"He will be very glad to have you for a faithful friend," said Mrs. Robertson; "but look, you must not teach him any thing bad, or tempt him to do wrong. He is my only child, and my dearest wish is to see him a noble, pure, Christian man." "I wont teach him any 'arm as I knows to be 'arm," said Hal, putting out his hand to ratify the bargain. It was a rough, hard hand, but Mrs. Robertson took it kindly as she answered, "God help you to keep your promise, Hal;" and so their interview closed. When Monday morning came, Hal Hutchings was up and dressed almost as early as Mrs. Robertson herself. Into the kitchen he walked, hearing the good lady's voice in that direction. "I'm going now," he said, "and I just looked in to bid you good-by." "Stop and take breakfast with us, wont you, Hal? You shall not go away hungry." Some crisp cakes of codfish and potatoes were getting the last coat of brown in a frying-pan over the fire, and a huge loaf of Boston "brown bread" was on the table near at hand. "I wouldn't mind a slice of that bread and one of them cakes, if you would let me sit down here and eat 'em," said Hal. Mrs. Robertson understood the boy's unwillingness to take a meal with strangers who had been raised in habits of greater refinement than his own. She kindly made a place for him where he was, and he soon rendered it evident that bashfulness had not taken away his appetite. "I don't want you to leave us," said Mrs. Robertson. "I should like to have you stay here until we can find something for you to do. I want to teach you to be a good Christian boy, the right kind of an American." "I don't want to be beholden to anybody," said Hal with decision. "I worked my way over, and I haven't begged a penny since I came. I don't mean to, unless I'm starving. Mrs. McKinstry has let me her little room. I've paid for it for this month, and I don't mean to lose my money. But I like your teaching, ma'am. It takes hold of me different from any thing I ever heard before." "Come in on Sunday evenings then, Hal. I am always at home then, and I should love dearly to teach you, and help you to be a good boy. Will you come?" said Mrs. Robertson. "I will, ma'am, I will," said Hal; and making a rude attempt at a bow, he took his leave. CHAPTER IV. THE PATRIOT'S WORK. Mrs. Robertson and her son were sitting at their pleasant breakfast-table together. "Blair," said the mother, "you want to be a patriot. Here is some work for you to do for your country. We must try to make a good American citizen out of Hal, and a good Christian at the same time. The poor fellow is deeply grateful to you, and you will have a powerful influence over him." "I can't bear the English," said Blair warmly. "I don't like any foreigners, for that matter. It don't seem to me they are the right stuff to make American citizens out of. Give me the native-born Yankee, free and independent from his cradle upwards. That's my way of thinking."