Our young readers will wish to know whether Frank kept his resolution of never delaying the performance of duties; and if they will pass over with us the lapse of some six or seven years, and take another peep at him as a young man of seventeen, they will, we think, be able to answer the question to their own satisfaction.
Frank was now the only earthly protector of his mother and sister, for Mr. Wilbur had been removed to the spiritual world about two years before. He had left but little property; and Mrs. Wilbur found it better to leave her pleasant home in the village, and hire rooms in the town to which Frank and Clara used to love to go when they were children. Frank was very desirous to earn something to aid in their support; and his mother at length found a good situation for him in a large shipping-store. His salary was small, however; and Mrs. Wilbur and Clara were obliged to take fine sewing to do, and, even with this assistance, found it difficult to maintain themselves comfortably.
“To-morrow I shall be seventeen, mother!” suddenly exclaimed Frank, as he sat thoughtfully gazing into the fire one evening after his return from the store.
“Yes, my son,” answered his mother. “You are almost a man.”
“And I ought to be able to take care of you and Clara, mother. My salary is too small. I know that my services are worth more than Mr. Lewiston pays me.
“That may be, Frank; but he gives you as much as it is customary to allow boys of your age. I do not know that we ought to expect him to do more.”
“I cannot bear to have you and Clara work so constantly, mother. I am the one to work.”
His mother smiled affectionately upon him as she replied,—
“You do work for us all the time, Frank, and we love to look to you for help; but it cannot be supposed that, at your age, you can support us entirely.”