The blue-eyed baby, who bore his father's name, could not understand the sorrowful faces about him, and, toddling up to the bedside, he put his little hands on the cold lips, and called "Papa! Papa!" till the weeping mother bore him out of the room.
"What will become of those poor, fatherless children?" said one neighbor to another.
"It is a strange providence," was the reply. "The mother is too young and too frail to carry on the farm alone. She will have to sell everything, and find homes for the children among her friends."
But Eliza Garfield was not the weak, dependent woman they had imagined. Moreover, she had one brave little helper close at hand.
"Don't cry, mother dear," said Thomas, making a great effort to keep back his own tears. "I am ten years old now, you know. I will take care of you. I am big enough to plough and plant, and cut the wood and milk the cows. Don't let us give up the farm. I will work ever so hard if we can only keep together!"
Noble little fellow! No wonder the mother's heart grew lighter as she watched his earnest face.
"You are not strong enough, dear child, to do all that," she said, "but God helping us, we will keep together. I will sell off part of the farm to pay our debts, and we shall then have thirty acres left, which will be quite enough for you and me to take care of."
It was now late in the spring, but Thomas managed to sow the wheat, plant the corn and potatoes and with the help of a kind neighbor complete the little barn his father had begun to build.
In cultivating the ground, his mother and sisters were always ready to help, and together they split the rails, and drove the stakes for the heavy fence around the wheat-field.
With such example of untiring industry and perseverance constantly before his eyes, it is no wonder the restless baby brother soon tried to lend a helping hand.