But poor Franks had not got so far yet as to see this, and the feeling of the approach of old age helped to relax the springs of his hopefulness. Also, his wife had not recovered from her last confinement. The baby, too, was sickly. And there was little receptivity for acrobatics in the streets—coppers came in slowly. But his wife’s words were always cheerful, though their tone was a little mournful. Their tone came of temperament, the words of love and its courage. The daughter of a gamekeeper, she was regarded by the neighbours as throwing herself away when she married Franks. But her husband was an honest and brave man, and she never repented of giving herself to him, even when life was the hardest.

For a few weeks they did pretty well in their new lodging. They managed to pay their way, and had food enough—though not quite so good as husband and wife wished each for the other and both for their children. The boys had a good enough time of it. They had not yet exhausted their own wonder in London. The constant changes around made of their lives a continuous novel, a romance, and being happy they could eat anything and thrive on it.

The lives of father and mother are like an umbrella over those of their children, shutting out all care if not all sorrow, and every change is welcomed as a new delight. This is true in all classes, yet I suspect perhaps that imagination, fancy, perception, insight into character, the sense of adventure, and many other powers and feelings are more likely to be active in the children of the poor, to the greater joy of their existence, than in others.

John Franks, according to his light, was a careful and conscientious parent. His boys were strongly attached to him, never thought of shirking their work, and endured a good deal of hardness and fatigue without grumbling. Their mother opened their eyes to see that their father took more than his full share and did his best for them. They were greatly proud of their father and believed him not only the top man in his profession, but the best man that ever lived in the world besides. To believe so of one’s parent is a stronger aid to righteousness than all other things whatever, until the day-star of the knowledge of the great Father rises in the heart to know whom, in like but better fashion, as the best more than man and the perfect Father of men, is the only thing to redeem us from misery and wrong, and lift us into the glorious liberty of the sons and daughters of God.