``Not my mother!'' he exclaimed. ``Who, then, ismy mother?''

　　``I cannot tell you, Frank. I never knew. Youwill forgive me for concealing this from you for solong.''

　　``No matter who was my real mother since I haveyou. You have been a mother to me, and I shall alwaysthink of you as such.''

　　``You make me happy, Frank, when you say that.

　　And you will look upon Grace as a sister also, willyou not?''

　　``Always,'' said the boy, emphatically. ``Mother,will you tell all you know about me? I don't knowwhat to think; now that I am not your son I cannotrest till I learn who I am.''

　　``I can understand your feelings, Frank, but I mustdefer the explanation till to-morrow. I have fatiguedmyself with talking. but to-morrow you shallknow all that I can tell you.''

　　``Forgive me for not thinking of your being tired,mother,'' and he bent over and pressed his lips uponthe cheek of the sick woman. ``But don't talk anymore. Wait till to-morrow.''

　　In the afternoon Frank had a call from Sam Pomeroy.

　　``The club is to play to-morrow afternoon againsta picked nine, Frank,'' he said. ``Will you be there?''

　　``I can't, Sam,'' he answered. ``My mother is verysick, and it is my duty to stay at home with her.''

　　``We shall miss you--that is, all of us but one.

　　Tom Pinkerton said yesterday that you ought toresign, as you can't attend to your duties. Hewouldn't object to filling your place, I fancy.''

　　``He is welcome to the place as soon as the clubfeels like electing him,'' said Frank. ``Tell the boysI am sorry I can't be on hand. They had better getyou to fill my place.''

　　``I'll mention it, but I don't think they'll see it inthat light. They're all jealous of my superior playing,''

　　said Sam, humorously. ``Well, good-bye, Frank.

　　I hope your mother'll be better soon.''

　　``Thank you, Sam,'' answered Frank, soberly. ``Ihope so, too, but she is very sick.''

　　The next day Mrs. Fowler again called Frank tothe bedside.

　　``Grace is gone out on an errand,'' she said, ``andI can find no better time for telling you what I knowabout you and the circumstances which led to myassuming the charge of you.''

　　``Are you strong enough, mother?''

　　``Yes, Frank. Thirteen years ago my husband andmyself occupied a small tenement in that part ofBrooklyn know as Gowanus, not far from GreenwoodCemetery. My husband was a carpenter, andthough his wages were small he was generallyemployed. We had been married three years, but hadno children of our own. Our expenses were small,and we got on comfortably, and should have continuedto do so, but that Mr. Fowler met with anaccident which partially disabled him. He fell froma high scaffold and broke his arm. This was setand he was soon able to work again, but he mustalso have met with some internal injury, for his fullstrength never returned. Half a day's work tiredhim more than a whole day's work formerly haddone. Of course our income was very much diminished,and we were obliged to economize very closely.

　　This preyed upon my husband's mind and seeing hisanxiety, I set about considering how I could helphim, and earn my share of the expenses.

　　``One day in looking over the advertising columnsof a New York paper I saw the following advertisement:

　　`` `For adoption--A healthy male infant. The parentsare able to pay liberally for the child's maintenance,but circumstances compel them to delegatethe care to another. Address for interview A. M.'

　　``I had no sooner read this advertisement than Ifelt that it was just what I wanted. A liberalcompensation was promised, and under our presentcircumstances would be welcome, as it was urgentlyneeded. I mentioned the matter to my husband, andhe was finally induced to give his consent.

　　``Accordingly, I replied to the advertisement.

　　``Three days passed in which I heard nothing fromit. But as we were sitting at the supper table atsix o'clock one afternoon, there came a knock at ourfront door. I opened it, and saw before me a tallstranger, a man of about thirty-five, of darkcomplexion, and dark whiskers. He was well dressed,and evidently a gentleman in station.

　　`` `Is this Mrs. Fowler?' he asked.

　　`` `Yes, sir,' I answered, in some surprise`` `Then may I beg permission to enter your housefor a few minutes? I have something to say to you.'

　　``Still wondering, I led the way into the sitting-room, where your father--where Mr. Fowler----''

　　``Call him my father--I know no other,'' saidFrank.

　　``Where your father was seated.

　　`` `You have answered an advertisement,' said thestranger.

　　`` `Yes, sir,' I replied.

　　`` `I am A. M.,' was his next announcement. `Ofcourse I have received many letters, but on the wholeI was led to consider yours most favorably. I havemade inquiries about you in the neighborhood, andthe answers have been satisfactory. You have nochildren of your own?'

　　`` `No, sir.'

　　`` `All the better. You would be able to give moreattention to this child.'

　　`` `Is it yours, sir?' I asked`` `Ye-es,' he answered, with hesitation.

　　`Circumstances,' he continued, `circumstances which I neednot state, compel me to separate from it. Five hundreddollars a year will be paid for its maintenance.'

　　``Five hundred dollars! I heard this with joy, forit was considerably more than my husband was ableto earn since his accident. It would make uscomfortable at once, and your father might work whenhe pleased, without feeling any anxiety about ourcoming to want.

　　`` `Will that sum be satisfactory?' asked thestranger.

　　`` `It is very liberal,' I answered.

　　`` `I intended it to be so,' he said. `Since there isno difficulty on this score, I am inclined to trust youwith the care of the child. But I must make twoconditions.'

　　`` `What are they, sir?'

　　`` `In the first place, you must not try to find outthe friends of the child. They do not desire to beknown. Another thing, you must move from Brooklyn.'

　　`` `Move from Brooklyn?' I repeated.

　　`` `Yes,' he answered, firmly. `I do not think itnecessary to give you a reason for this condition.

　　Enough that it is imperative. If you decline, ournegotiations are at an end.'

　　``I looked at my husband. He seemed as muchsurprised as I was.

　　`` `Perhaps you will wish to consult together,'

　　suggested our visitor. `If so, I can give you twentyminutes. I will remain in this room while you goout and talk it over.'

　　``We acted on this hint, and went into the kitchen.

　　We decided that though we should prefer to live inBrooklyn, it would be worth our while to make thesacrifice for the sake of the addition to our income.

　　We came in at the end of ten minutes, and announcedour decision. Our visitor seemed to be very muchpleased.

　　`` `Where would you wish us to move?' asked yourfather.

　　`` `I do not care to designate any particular place.

　　I should prefer some small country town, from fiftyto a hundred miles distant. I suppose you will beable to move soon?'

　　`` `Yes, sir; we will make it a point to do so. Howsoon will the child be placed in our hands? Shallwe send for it?'

　　`` `No, no,' he said, hastily. `I cannot tell youexactly when, but it will be brought here probably inthe course of a day or two. I myself shall bring it,and if at that time you wish to say anything additionalyou can do so.'

　　``He went away, leaving us surprised and somewhatexcited at the change that was to take place inour lives. The next evening the sound of wheels washeard, and a hack stopped at our gate. The samegentleman descended hurriedly with a child in hisarms--you were the child, Frank--and entered thehouse.

　　`` `This is the child,' he said, placing it in my arms,`and here is the first quarterly installment of yourpay. Three months hence you will receive the samesum from my agent in New York. Here is his address,'

　　and he placed a card in my hands. `Haveyou anything to ask?'

　　`` `Suppose I wish to communicate with you respectingthe child? Suppose he is sick?'

　　`` `Then write to A. M., care of Giles Warner, No.

　　---- Nassau Street. By the way, it will be necessaryfor you to send him your postoffice address afteryour removal in order that he may send you yourquarterly dues.'

　　``With this he left us, entered the hack, and droveoff. I have never seen him since.''