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Rh Leclair's heart at once. She offered him the most comfortable chair she possessed, and apologized for not having a fire in the little cylinder stove, stating that the room in which Harry lay was warmed by the fire in the kitchen. Then she asked him his name.

"Mother, tell him to come in," said a weak voice from the bedroom, and Mrs. Leclair at once led the way to the sick boy's side, Franklin close at her heels.

"I'm glad somebody has come for once," murmured the sufferer, as he held out his wasted hand. "Ever since I have been here no one has called but the doctor, and he only a couple of times."

"Don't the neighbors come in?" questioned Franklin.

"No, returned Mrs. Leclair. "They are not our kind of people, and we have never associated with them. They think us too proud, and I suppose we are in a way, for it is only since my husband's death that we came down to life in a tenement house. We used to own our own home and have plenty."

"It is hard to come down. I know something of it, for a few weeks ago I never expected to be employed in such a place as the Phoenix Electric Fan Works."

"The working people there are not very nice," sighed Mrs. Leclair. "Some of them treat Harry