They lived in a very plain way, but Mrs. Rushton was an
excellent manager, and they had never lacked the common comforts of
life. The husband and father had followed the sea. Two years before, he
left the port of Boston as captain of the ship _Norman_, bound for
Calcutta. Not a word had reached his wife and son since then, and it was
generally believed that it had gone to the bottom of the sea. Mrs.
Rushton regarded herself as a widow, and Robert, entering the factory,
took upon himself the support of the family. He was now able to earn six
dollars a week, and this, with his mother's earnings in braiding straw
for a hat manufacturer in a neighboring town, supported them, though
they were unable to lay up anything. The price of a term at the writing
school was so small that Robert thought he could indulge himself in it,
feeling that a good handwriting was a valuable acquisition, and might
hereafter procure him employment in some business house. For the
present, he could not do better than to retain his place in the factory.
Robert was up at six the next morning. He spent half an hour in sawing
and splitting wood enough to last his mother through the day, and then
entered the kitchen, where breakfast was ready.
"I am a little late this morning, mother," he said. "I must hurry down
my breakfast, or I shall be late at the factory, and that will bring
twenty-five cents fine.
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