For two years past the steady confinement to his desk had told sadly upon the faithful bank cashier, and the stooping form, hollow cheeks, and hacking cough could no longer be disregarded.

For a long time good old Dr.Wing had said, "You must move South, Elmer; you can't stand it up here much longer." Both Mr.Elmer and his wife knew that this was true; but how could they move South?
where was the money to come from?
and how were they to live if they did?
Long and anxious had been the consultations after the children were tucked into their beds, and many were the prayers for guidance they had offered up.
At last a way was opened, "and just in time, too," said the doctor, with a grave shake of his head.

Mrs.Elmer's uncle, Christopher Bangs, whom the children called "Uncle Christmas," heard of their trouble, and left his saw-mills and lumber camps to come and see "where the jam was," as he expressed it.

When it was all explained to him, his good-natured face, which had been in a wrinkle of perplexity, lit up, and with a resounding slap of his great, hard hand on his knee, he exclaimed, "Sakes alive! why didn't you send for me, Niece Ellen?
why didn't you tell me all this long ago, eh?
I've got a place down in Florida, that I bought as a speculation just after the war.

I hain't never seen it, and might have forgot it long ago but for the tax bills coming in reg'lar every year.