"But, mamma, you are sick, and Will makes so much, and you ought not to work."
But Mrs. Raymond was firm in her resolve, and when Will came creeping into his little room in the early morning, he was astonished at finding his mother lying in his bed, awaiting him.
In vain he argued; she would not hear of his continuing his night-work, and so Will Raymond left his place and looked for something else to do.
But nothing came in his way; times were hard, and but a few pennies a day were all the mother and her children had to live on.
Will seldom ate at home, saying that he got plenty at the lunch-counters during the day, and he left the scanty food for his mother and sister; but this his mother soon began to disbelieve, as the boy looked really ill and was growing thin.
"To-day is Thanksgiving Day, Will, so we must have a good dinner," said Mrs. Raymond, with a forced smile, one morning, after a most meagre breakfast.
"Oh, mamma!" said Will, and his heart was too full to say more.
"My son, I have a gold-piece—a three-dollar piece given me years ago, and which I have held on to until now, never counting it in thinking of my finances; but I wish you to take it and go to some good market and invest a dollar at least in a good dinner;" and the poor mother turned away to hide her tears, for the faces of her children told her plainly that they were hungry—yes, very hungry, as she was herself.
Will took the piece of gold, when his mother had taken it from its hiding-place, and placed it carefully in his pocket.
Then he started out upon his errand.