The home of Mrs. Sarah Pitkin, a widow well on in years, was situated onan eminence overlooking the Rat River, near the town of Ottsville in thestate of Vermont. It was a humble dwelling much the worse for wear, yetexceedingly dear to her and her only child, Lemuel.While the house had not been painted for some time, owing to thestraitened circumstances of the little family, it still had a great dealof charm. An antique collector, had one chanced to pass it by, would havebeen greatly interested in its architecture. Having been built about thetime of General Stark's campaign against the British, its lines reflectedthe character of his army, in whose ranks several Pitkins had marched.One late fall evening, Mrs. Pitkin was sitting quietly in her parlor,when a knock was heard on her humble door.She kept no servant, and, as usual, answered the knock in person."Mr. Slemp!" she said, as she recognized in her caller the wealthyvillage lawyer."Yes, Mrs. Pitkin, I come upon a little matter of business.""Won't you come in?" said the widow, not forgetting her politeness in hersurprise."I believe I will trespass on your hospitality for a brief space," saidthe lawyer blandly. "Are you quite well?""Thank you, sir--quite so," said Mrs. Pitkin as she led the way into thesitting room. "Take the rocking chair, Mr. Slemp," she said, pointing tothe best chair which the simple room contained."You are very kind," said the lawyer, seating himself gingerly in thechair referred to."Where is your son, Lemuel?" continued the lawyer."He is in school. But it is nearly time for him to be home; he neverloiters." And the mother's voice showed something of the pride she feltin her boy."Still in school!" exclaimed Mr. Slemp. "Shouldn't he be helping tosupport you?""No," said the widow proudly. "I set great store by learning, as does myson. But you came on business?""Ah, yes, Mrs. Pitkin. I fear that the business may be unpleasant foryou, but you will remember, I am sure, that I act in this matter as agentfor another.""Unpleasant!" repeated Mrs. Pitkin apprehensively. "Yes. Mr. Joshua Bird,Squire Bird, has placed in my hands for foreclosure the mortgage on yourhouse. That is, he will foreclose," he added hastily, "if you fail toraise the necessary monies in three months from now, when the obligationmatures.""How can I hope to pay?" said the widow brokenly. "I thought that SquireBird would be glad to renew, as we pay him twelve per cent interest.""I am sorry, Mrs. Pitkin, sincerely sorry, but he has decided not torenew. He wants either his money or the property."The lawyer took his hat and bowed politely, leaving the widow alone withher tears.(It might interest the reader to know that I was right in my surmise. Aninterior decorator, on passing the house, had been greatly struck by itsappearance. He had seen Squire Bird about purchasing it, and that is whythat worthy had decided to foreclose on Mrs. Pitkin. The name of thecause of this tragedy was Asa Goldstein, his business, "ColonialExteriors and Interiors." Mr. Goldstein planned to take the house apartand set it up again in the window of his Fifth Avenue shop.)As Lawyer Slemp was leaving the humble dwelling, he met the widow's son,Lemuel, on the threshold. Through the open door, the boy caught a glimpseof his mother in tears, and said to Mr. Slemp:"What have you been saying to my mother to make her cry?""Stand aside, boy!" exclaimed the lawyer. He pushed Lem with such greatforce that the poor lad fell off the porch steps into the cellar, thedoor of which was unfortunately open. By the time Lem had extricatedhimself, Mr. Slemp was well on his way down the road.Our hero, although only seventeen years old, was a strong, spirited ladand would have followed after the lawyer but for his mother. On hearingher voice, he dropped the ax which he had snatched up and ran into thehouse to comfort her.The poor widow told her son all we have recounted and the two of them satplunged in gloom. No matter how they racked their brains, they could notdiscover a way to keep the roof over their heads.