"Only a little bread and milk for Henry," was replied. "Let me send you a cup of tea," urged the woman. "No, thank you. I don't wish any thing to night." The woman went away, feeling troubled. From her heart she pitied the suffering young creature, and it had cost her a painful struggle to do what she had done. But the pressing nature of her own circumstances required her to be rigidly just. Notwithstanding Mrs. Logan had declined having any thing, she sent her a cup of tea and something to eat. But they remained untasted. On the next morning Logan was sober, and his wife informed him of the notice which their landlady had given. He was angry, and used harsh language towards the woman. Fanny defended her, and had the harsh language transferred to her own head. The young man appeared as usual at the breakfast table, but Fanny had no appetite for food, and did not go down. After breakfast, Logan went to the shop, intending to go to work; but found his place supplied by another journeyman, and himself thrown out of employment, with but a single dollar in his pocket, a months boarding due, and his family in need of almost every comfort. From the shop he went to a tavern, took a glass of liquor, and sat down to look over the newspapers, and think what he should do. There he met an idle journeyman, who, like himself, had lost his situation. A fellow feeling made them communicative and confidential. "If I was only a single man," said Logan, "I wouldn't care, I could easily shift for myself." "Wife and children! Yes, there's the rub," returned the companion. "A journeyman mechanic is a fool to get married." "Then you and I are both fools," said Logan. "No doubt of it. I came to that conclusion, in regard to myself, long and long ago. Sick wife, hungry children, and four or five backs to cover; no wonder a poor man's nose is ever on the grindstone. For my part, I am sick of it. When I was a single man, I could go where I pleased, and do what I pleased; and I always had money in my pocket. Now I am tied down to one place, and grumbled at eternally; and if you were to shake me from here to the Navy Yard, you wouldn't get a sixpence out of me. The fact is, I'm sick of it." "So am I. But what is to be done? I don't believe I can get work in town." "I know you can't. But there is plenty of work and good wages to be had in Charleston or New Orleans." Logan did not reply; but looked intently into his companion's face. "I'm sure my wife would be a great deal better off if I were to clear out and leave her. She has plenty of friends, and they'll not see her want." Logan still looked at his fellow journeyman. "And your wife would be taken back under her father's roof, where there is enough and to spare. Of course she would be happier than she is now." "No doubt of that. The old rascal has treated her shabbily enough. But I am well satisfied that if I were out of the way he would gladly receive her back again."