under her chin.

Just then, her boy awoke. Alice had laid him down on his bed, and
the first sight the little fellow saw, when he awoke, was his
mother's hair which almost covered him up.

"Why, Mother, how could you do so? How could you cut off your pretty
hair, and put on that ugly cap? What would father say? You said we
must do what we thought would please him. It would not please him to
have you cut off your pretty hair;" and the child burst into an
agony of tears.

"Would it not please him that you should have a spelling book and a
slate to write on, William? With this hair I can buy them for you. I
have no other riches now."

The poor boy still wept. The hair was more to him, at that time,
than all learning. He could not then have believed that the time
would come, when he would remember with gratitude his mother's
sacrifice for him and his little sister.

Alice gathered the locks, took from a drawer her last bit of blue
ribbon, and tied them, saying, "This is the way he liked to see my
hair tied when I was at my father's cottage. I shall never tie it so
again."

When the good vicar came to see Alice, as he did every day, she met
him with me all nicely done up in a paper in her hands, and asked
him if he would be so good as to take me to the hair dresser who had
advertised for hair, make the best bargain he could for her, and,