< BABES IN THE WOOD:
A NEZ ST~ B OF THEIR ADVENTURES.
GEO. S. APPLETON, 164 CHESTNUT ST.
4 *,Jnr To,-:
D. AIrPETN & CO., 200 BROADWAY.
Entered aeeordiun tl Act of Conas, in the year 180, by
GEORGE B. APPLETON, w
i the Clerk's OLee of the District Court of the United States, in and for the
Easter Distriet of Pensylanis.
---------T -- --
W 0 DI).
Mair years ago there lived in England
a gentleman and his lady. He was a good
&iman, kind to allaho knew him, and fond
of little boys and girls. His wife was of
Sweet temper, and very beautiful. They
6 WILLIAM AND JANB. w
did all they could for the'po4 never send-
ing any one away from the doo bf o came
to ask for bread. Year after year they
lived together; and every day they loved
each other more, and strove to render life
The good man had only two children-
a boy and a girl. The boy's name was
William, the girl's name Jane. T were
both very young, William being only three
years old, and little Jane not quite two.
The boy looked very much like hi father;
and Jane looked like her f Tor. These.4
children were always together; oee cold
not play, nor eat, nor sleep, unioes the
S PARENTS SICK. 7
other W01i ; and one day when Wil-
liam wvtken away for a few hours by
4iB father, poor little Jane cried until she
About this time the father grew sick,
.and day after day got worse. His lady
did all she could to cure him; but when
she saw that it wafof no use, she became
so aIad that she fell sick also. She
felt that her dar husband would die; and
this thought made her willing to lie down
and die with him. For they had lived to-
,. gether so log anA so l~ppiy, that the
#ought of parting wore dreadful than
. death, Yet, when she thought of her litU
8 THE UNCLE.
babes, she hoped that she mi stll live to
take care of them. But, like hby usband,
she grew worse every day; and soon both"
of them felt that they would be taken
away from their two little babes, and be
forced to leave them in the world with-
out father or mother. This was a cruel
thought; but they bore it as well as they
could, trusting that after they were dead,
their children would find some kind friend
who would pity their ad condition, and
provide for them a home. After talking
to each other long ab6ut it, they at last .
agreed to send for the gentleman's brother,
and give their little ones to his care.
LOV OP PARENTS. 9
See hibw.uch these good people loved
theit children, and how much pain they
*felt at the thought of leaving them in the
world among strangers. Children should
love their parents very much, for the care
that they take of them in childhood.
Sometimes little boys and girls forget how
kind their father afri mother have been to
them. Such children think that if they
could only get away from home, where
they neinot go to school, nor mind what
*would be said to them, that then they
would Wlhappy. But it is wrong as well
as wicked to think so. No one can ever
be happier than he is at his mother's houe,
10 LOVE O PAgtNTS.
where he has everything given-to him by
his parents, and has nothing to dp but y *
or go to school. If thee children should*
lose their father and mother, and have to
live among strangers, they would soon
begin to wish that they were back again
in their first home. The father and mo-
ther of William and Jare kpw this. They
knew that their poor little ones, whom they
had brought up so tenderly, wold4 never
be treated bytheir uncle or anm else,
as kindly as they had b ee lted 4a
home; and they were -afraidI 0.thsd
little ones would be allowed to go with
wicked children, and learn to swear, t.ii
UCHl[B LL. 11
a. to commit other bad deeds. This it
Q r 6ti made the good man and his wife
so sorrowful at e thought of dying; for
lad they had no children, they would have
cherfully lain down and waited for the
Still the father had taken every care to
provide for Jaqe and William. After find-
ing out the value of all his property, he
made'lis will, naming in it the sums of
Si chlie wanted eac child to have.
t6llr death this wil w to be given to
Ibhe'- l uncle, wh wasm to see that
e everytng was attended to exactly as he
ad directed. Often he lifted his little
12 THE UNCLI ABBIVES.
ones into bed with him, and talked to them
for a long while, about the Good Being J.
would watch over them, &d of heir uncle,
who was now to be their father. Willia
and Jane did not understand much thb ir
father said; but they felt that something
sad was about to happen, and they hid
their faces and cried very much.
When the uncle heard that the father
and mother of the children were sick, he
made all the baste be could to 1vt.tbnem
When he reached the bedside, the
man said, "Ah, brother, you seeAs&WiM
a time I can expect to live; but either
pain nor death gives me so much grief
T.HS DBAH BID. 18
as I feel at the thought of what these
^ dl b be will do without a parent's
care.". Then he stretched out his trem-
b4g hand, and. pointing to little William
aad s sister, said, "They will have none
but you to be kind to them; none but you
to see them clothed and fed, and to teach
them tojI g@djnd happy." Then the
mother spoke : "Brother, you must be father
and mothf, a well at uncle, to these poor
little ao aos. Teach Wilam to read;
*d tel him how good his dr father was.
And i -Jane-oh, brother, how can I
part Vh ber I Watch over her -tech
her at night on your knee; tell her of her
14 THE DBATHBED.
father and mother when they qre both in
the cold grave-and oh, teach thep both
to be good t"
This sad part of our tory is hur
in the old ballad which tells of tjs ior.
Now, brother," said the dyipg man,
"Look to my children dear,
Be good unto my Boy and girl,
No friends else have they here.
STo God and you I reconinend '
My childrenhere this day, '"
But little while be sure we have
Within this world to stay.
THR DEATHBED. 15
You must be father and mother both,
And uncle all in.one,
fi kabws what will become of them
.- Wh fh I "a'dead and gone."
-With &at bispake their mother dear:
Oh brother? kind" quoth she,
You are tie man most bring our babes
To wealth miseryr.
"And if you keep them carefully
Then G6d wil you reward;
But tyou otherwise shall deal,
God will your deeds regard."
16 THE DEATHBED.
All this time the babes stood by tAe
bedside, crying as though their hearts
would break. Then the uncle said, "4ow
it grieves me to see you, my brother 'and
sister, in this sad state Perhaps te.is
still hope of your getting well; but i we
should happen to lose you, I will do for
your children all that you have desired.
I will be father, mother, add uncle to them.
William shall learn to read;'and I will
often tell him how good his father was, that
he may turn out as good himself, when he
grows to be a man. Jane shall be used
with the most tender care, and she shall
often sit upon my knee while I tell her
THE DEATHBED. 17
about you both. But, brother, you have
said nothing of your money; tell me
something about that, for you know I want
to do q1 I can with it, to make these little
The dying man looked sad when he
heard this. He looked for a little while
at the uncle, and then said, Do not talk
about money, brother; it grieves me to
hear of, it, for this is a solemn hour, when
all worldly things ought to bi*i1ven from
the mind. Here is my will AlSWill tell
you what I have done for these d iichil-
dren. Oh, brother, let me only ask of
you that you would care for them when I
18 THE DEATHBED.
am gone; think of your dead brother--
who will care for them if you do not!"
Then the little boy cried and wrung his
hands; and little Jane cried too/ Lift
them up to me," said their father..' The
uncle lifted them up, and the poor little
fellow kissed his father again and again,
and sobbed over his shoulder. ", Poor
children," he said, I will soon be gone
from you; but your uncle will then be
your father." The uncle wanted to take
them away, but William crept close into
his father's arms, and little Jane hid her-
self in her sick mother's bosom. Thin
they lay still, for they were too young
THE DEATH. 19
to tnow what death was. The father and
mother pressed their cold lips on them and
hugged them closely, until at last the little
boy and his sister went to sleep. Then
their their said : Take them away, bro-
ther-death is coming fast-I feel it-I
will never see my dear children again."
Then he stretched out his limbs, his eyes
grew dim, and he tried to speak to his
wife, but could not She too was dying-
at last all was still. The uncle felt his
Brother's pulse, but it did not beat. They
were dead, and their babes were or-
phans. The uncle shed a few tears at
20 THE UNCLE.
this sad sight, and then went to look at
Before going any further, I must tell
you what kind of a man this uncle was,
Ever since he was a boy, he had been in
business, so that he had got together a
great deal of money, and had houses, and
goods, and ships, and lands. But he was
not like his brother-the dying man.'" He
made the people whom he hired, work very
hard, and did not pay them as they ought
to have been; and he hoarded all the
money he got in large bags, which were
put in deep vaults, so that no one but him-
self might ever see them. His wife was
THE UNCLE. 21
a good woman; but he did not love her,
and often abused her if she asked him
for a little money, to get something with.
This man had two sons, who were as mi.
serly and wicked as himself; for he bad
taught them to love money from the time
they were children. They attended to
a part of his business, and often sailed in
hispps from one country to another, so
as to make more money. He was very
hard to the poor people who lived in his
houses; for if they did not pay their rent
on the very day it was due, he abused
them dreadfully, seized all their goods, and
turned them out of doors. Once he took
from a poor widow woman a fine cow,
which was all she had to provide food for
her children with; and when her two
little boys kneeled down before him and
begged for mercy, he kicked them out of
doors, and turned their mother out of the
hut she had lived in. When beggars came
to his gates, he turned the dogs loose on
them, and laughed to see the poor crea-
tures run. Everybody supposed that he
would come to some bad end, on account
of his cruelty to the poor.
His brother did not know how bad this
wicked man was; he knew that he had
always loved money, but he did not sup.
THE WILL 28
pose that he was cruel, or miserly. If
he had, he would rather have left William
and Jane among strangers. He believed
that their uncle would take good care of
them, send them to school when they got
large enough, and treat them at all times as
if they were his own children. We shall
soon see if what he believed was true.
The uncle found that his brother had
left William the sum of three hundred
pounds a year, when he should be twenty-
one years old; while Jane was to have
five hundred pounds in gold, to be paid
on the day that she should be married.
But if thechildren should happen to die
24 A NEW HOME.
before coming of age, the uncle was to
have all their money. Then the will di-
rected that the gentleman and his wife
should be buried in the same grave.
The two children were now taken to
their new home, at the house of the
uncle. Here they saw their aunt, who
was very kind to them. For a while the
uncle used them very well, and seemed as
if he wished to do all that their father
had asked of him. But the" little boy
could not forget his first home, and the
kind smiling faces of his father and mo-
ther. Often he asked to be taken home;
and sometimes he would sit down with
WICKED THOUGHT. 26
little Jane in his arms, and cry until they
both fell to sleep. By and by their uncle
ceased to talk with them as much as he
had done, and it last he took scarcely any
notice of them. In about a year he had
forgotten the dying words of their father
and mother, and his promise to be father,
mother, and uncle, all in one. Then a
frightful thought came into his mind,
almost too wicked to mention. He be.
gan to wih that the little boy and girl
would die, so that he could get all their
money for himself. This he thought about
ni'h and day, and even dreamed of it
*while he was asleep. He often said to him-
26 LOVE OF MONEY.
self that perhaps they would die soon, and
then the money would be his; but as this
did not happen, he thought it would be best
to have them put to death. t Oh, how soon
he had forgotten the words o( his dead
brother! One day he said within himself,
" It would not be very hard for me to kill
them so that nobody would know any-
thing about the matter; and then the
money will be'mine at once." The love
of money had made him a murderer in
his heart-a murderer, too, of his own
This shows us to what great crimete .
love of money will lead. When this uncle
%OVB OF MONEY. 27
first began to hoard up money, he did not
thiA that he would one day be a murder-
er. He woued have trembled at such a
thought. But'then bi always loved mo-
ney; he, 'u never so happy as when
counting hisgold and silver, or putting it
into bags; and it seemed to him as if the
more wealth a man had, the more happy
he was. Next he thought that if money
Made peqo so happy, it was no harm to
use everylort to get money. So he
cheated a little in business, told what was
not true, was hard on his tenants, and
abused beggars when they asked for some-
thing to eat. Then he went a step fur.
28 LOVE OF MONEY.1
their. He borrowed money, and kept it,
picked up money that did not belong to
him whenever he could get q chance, and
cheated all who hao dealings with him.
When William and Jaap cK to his
house, he did not think of doig any harm
to them; yet he said to himself that he
thought he should be paid for the trouble
they would give him. This was a mean
thought; none but a miser would have
wished to be paid for takingcre of two
little orphans; besides, how osuld he have
the heart to think of taking the money
which had been left to them by their kind
HONWTY THE BEST POLICY. 29
We shall see, by and by, that it would
haA been better for this man if he had
d&ne as hepromised to do. Wicked per-
sons, after all they to do, fare very badly
in the W o(tep they lose, in a single
day, all they hoarded up for years.
Good men shun them; and their own
thoughts torment hem so much that they
often do not ee a single happy day.
'4 Riches cannot mate people happy; but
the poorest person can be so all, the year
round, if he learns to love his fpw-men,
and to do good to all around him. Hence
S its not a good sign to see little boys or
little girls very fond of money; for if this
80 THE THICK WOO.
feeling grows stronger as they grow older,
it may lead them to become miers, ahd to
commit acts which are too dreadful to be
named. Who *od not rather be the
father of the little balbe, hl ir uncle,
who wished to kill them thakeInight get
their money! i
When the cruel uncle had made up his
mind to kill the babes, hlsoon contrived
a way to have it done. At some distance '
from his house was a dark thick wood,
where very few persons dared to wlk
even in the day-time, because many tra-
vellers had been killed there, and thtir
pockets rifled of money. All these mur-
THE TWO RUFFIANS. 81
ders wen y two sturdy' ruffians,
whom the wholJcountry around were
afraid of, because the police were not able
to catch them, nor to find out wherb they
hid. the uncle determined to hire these
wicked csotures to kilike little babes;
so he#ached them out, gave them a large
sub of money, and made them promise to
dg the most cruel deed that was ever yet
done under the sui. After this, he began
to get everything ready for sending the
children away. His wife wasver sorry;
for she did not like to part with the poor
little ones, whom she loved very much.
BIt h tdld-an artful story to her, that he
82 THE CHILDREN SENT AWAY.
was going to send tha p.Lohdon, to a
friend of his who woultake care of them,
and give them many comforts which he
could not, and send them to the best kinds
of schools. Then he said to the children:
" Would you sot like, my pretty ones, to
see the famous town of London-.gwhere
you,William, can have a fine wooden horse
to ride upon all day long, and a whip to
make him gallop, and a bright sword to
wear by your side And you, Jane, shall
have pretty frocks, and dolls, and "many
other pretty playthings, and a nice gilded
coach to ride about the streets." All
these fine words pleased the childreqn-
THE JOURNEY. 88
" Oh yes, I will go, uncle I" said William.
"And I will go, tdl" said Jane, and the
little girl clapped her hands with joy.
, And will' wr.see dear father there I"
asked the little boy. The uncle looked
at him, but did not answer. Then Jane
began ,o cry, for she remembered some-
thingof her mother and father. I will
see father, I will see mother," she said,
and'looked up in her uncle's face, as the
tears stood in her sweet blue eyes. Their
uncle felt bad for a little while; but as he
had a heart as hard as stone, he soon for-
got what Jane had said, and gotthe little
ones ready for their journey. A few days
84 TUr JOURNEY.
after this, they were put into fipe coach;
one of the ruffians g' in-next; and the
oter one drove the coach: At first the
children were afraid; but after awhile they
began to whisper to each other about the
fine horse they were tp have, and the dolls,
and new clothes, and especially about see-
ing their father and mother. At l~at they
talked out loud, and then asked the man,
if it was far, and if he had ever sep their
father. He did not want to talk, so he
said no, so angry, th~the child~wA were
afraid. For some timqk they did not talk
any more but kep peeping up in his
face to see if e lookOed ros Then
RUFFIAN HESITATES. 86
William w*,red.to Jane, and aftr a
while he loke upl fhe murderer's face
and told him that he would let him ride on
his poay sometimes, when he got to Lon-
don. Now this man had once been kind
and lovely, like the little children; and
tbhr ft voies made him think of that
happ?4teand fS what a bed man he was.
Then he thought of the wicked deed that
he wa about to commit, and he asked
hiMn|lf what bese innocent ones had ever
done kbi tiA he should. kill them.
Tht lager they talked, the worse he felt;
until when they 9ke so joyfully about
their father,he could scarcely prevent him.
86 RUFFIAN HESITATES.
self from crying. He did kot feel so be-
cause he was afraid of being found out;
but he felt that he was doing wrong, and
injuring those who had" no one to care for
them, and were too young to know the
wickedness that was being practised upon
them. At last he thought that he would ask
the other murderer to spare their lives,
and take them back to their uncle.
When the coach came to the dark thick
wood, the ruffian that was driving, stopped.
He then jumped to the"ground, the one
inside got out, and next they lifted Wil-
liam and Jane out. Now," said one of
the robbers, "you may go a little way and
THE CONSULTATION. 87
gather flowers, and when we call you,
come to us." The children were very
gAd to see the trees and flowers, and
they ran toward a spot where some vio-
lets were growing at the foot of a tree.
The two men now leaned against a tree,
and began to talk about what they had to
do. WeCan take them into the gloomi-
est part of the woods," said the one
who had driven, and cut their throats
with the knife you have in your pocket.
Then we will bury them under the big.hol-
low oak tree that grows there, and nobody
will ever know it." But the one who
had been sitting between the children
88 THE CONSUNiTATION.
said: "For my part, since I have seen
their innocent faces, and heard their sweet
voices, and seen how they love each othb,
I have no heart to do the cruel deed. Let
us fling away this knife, and send the chil-
dren back to their uncle." *' I will do no
such thing," answered the other. What
are their sweet voices or anytng else to
us, so we get the money '" Think that
they are only children," said his company.
ion-" orphans too, who cannot help them.
selves !" But the cruel robbed did not care
for this, so he said: Who cares if they
are orphans I have seen you cut a man's
throat before to-day; and are you afraid
THBE QUARREL N
of two crying children 1 You may turn
coward if you choose; but as for me, I'
hive the money."
The other robber was a bold man. He
would not let any one call him a coward;
so he said: You are as great a coward
as I am. It is not because I am afraid
that 1 spoke, for I am afraid of no man."
Then the other murderer was very angry,
and said that he would kill the children,
and that nobody wogld hinder him. Hie
Was just going toward the place': i e
Williaeand Jane were, so that he might
uMider em, when the other one stepped
bbre him and said: Stop, you shall not
40 THE BOBBBE8 FIGHT.
touch the children." Who will hinder
me V" said the other, with a voice choked
"I will," said the one who had rode
with the children; and as he spoke he drew
the great knife out of his pocket. The
other murderer jumped at him, caught him
by the throat, and tried to take the knife
from him; but he watched a lucky time,
and then stabbed him to the heart. He
fell down dead at the murderer's feet.
What a dreadful sight wa this! Here
was another crime done which had begun
in the love of money. Both these men
had for years followed no trade but that
THE -OBBERS. 41
of robbing and murdering; and so'har-
dened were theii hearts, that they found it
as easy to kill a man, as a butcher does
an oa, They lived more like wild beasts
than men, and their eyes looked so fierce,
that scarcely any one dared look them in
the face. Sometimes they broke into
houses at night, murdered all that were
.inside, and set the house on fire. They
would lie in the road at night, and shoot at
travellers or their horses, as they passed
by, and sometimes they stopped carriages,
dragged gentlemen or ladies out, robbed
them, ald threw their dead bodies into
4f THI OP5RES.
All thil wIa &didr; yet it all Vdmng
from the love' amoey. These men
would not wotk, but tipy would have
money; so there wis A ray of getting
it, but by leading the life they 4id. But
they had one good habit-they never stole
from poor persons. Sometimes they even
gave money to the persons who had been
turned out of their cottages by the babes'
uncle. They had often tried to rob this
uncle, because they knew that he was
very rich; but his moley-bags were kept
in such strong vaults, and his locks were
so heavy, that though they one broke
into his house, they were not able to do
anyttig, and i4ti I one
they robbed dft of .l)^ OK the high
way; and weotlit | ed im, but just
then some offid' in lght. But
when they oet poet ~i they let them
pass by. A gteat Maty ffioes of the
law were out continually asehing for
thise men, and a great tewatd was of-
feredfor any one who would bring them
to justice, dead or alive. The old uncle
wanted.to get this reward; ahd his set.
vants were out all the tiim, hoping to
catch the robbers. Now, when he hired
these m&h to kill the children, he gave
them half the money they asked, and
44 THE ROBBERS.
promised to give them the other half as
soon as they should return from the woods.
But he thought within himself that he
would slily inform the officers of justice
of them, have them taken up, and so get
the reward. He did not believe that they
could make people think that he had told
them to kill the children, even if they
should say so; because no one knew his
feelings toward these orphans. But you
see that one of the murderers was killed,
and the other did not return; so this
wicked uncle was not able to get the
While the two ruffians were quarrelling,
CHILD% FRIGHTENED. 45
the childreauoere picking flowers, which
William put in little Jane's hair. They
were very happy, fat was summer time,
and the birds wvan singing sweetly in the
trees, and the su dsbne bright and warm.
But in a short timtthey heard the loud
words of the lArderrs, and on looking
at them, saw that they were angry.
Then those little cbidren began to be
afraid, all when they Aw the robbers
fighting together, they and wrung
their -hads. At last An they saw
twrerdeftr fall, nd that blood was run-
* mdown among the leaves and grass,
iysto*iped crying and sat down and hid
46 UNOM3TA .# ,
their faces in each other'*bow Uttle:
Jane sobbed and trebmial bet herbi
held her fast in his ,
AU this time the aW. BNsAMdi by
the tree whem he b U t kiltlhe other
one, and thiakingl. i* : : it h the
children. HM piti tiiiil ra M
every moment, whM la daw h v helptg
they were, and thatity loved embh c
so much. & killedd tbum, e could
have gone to tl" .'ot unlde and got
a bag of monw o~a trouble; hut some.
thing seemed to mbdd ipa ack, s tht he
would have beem willing to. I t~ep
rather than hurt one of ea. D B
h. fhagu .r4.ta4 up.
What' was hhe ,thb cildrqut
AAe mking l this quetion
t*ri tmiii..ia|sy n l~te in in the
pu.m I7-4.ThensA b wqnt up
Sdlks Li them-
liA other' arms, and said is a
kind vo- mp CGpp Iby pretty ones;
you pst take jTofay hands and go a
littiay yay ipo." The poor
children, Am& dwMi friht, got up and
irde of h W itni d ThRey
^llltAthey were to o Willed, and
48 THE CHILDREN *0BSin lN.
their limbs shook witf fear, wWie'the tear
ran down their cheeks. They waed on
further and further through the thick
woods, until they had gone nearly two
miles. Then the man'stopped, pnd setting
them dow* under a tree, told them to wait
till he came back ApO Oext town,
where he would go and get them some
In the words of the ballad:-
,And he that was of mildest mood,
Did slay the other.there;
Within an unfrequented wood,
The babes did quake fot fear.
1B~, rEN FORSAKEN. 49
He took the children by the hand,
tears standing in their eye,
And bade them straightway follow him,
And look, they did not cry.
And two long miles he led them on,
While tA for food complain;
SStay here," quoth he, I'11 bring you
When I come back again."
When the man was out of sight, the
poor little orphans again lay down in each
other's arms, and began to cry. At last
when they had waited a long while, and
50 THE CHILDREN FOR ii
the man did not come, William sat up and
said: The man will com soo, dear
Jane." ,* And will he bring -ome cakes
for us, Willy 1" said Jane. *, By and by
he will," said William. So these children
waited longer, and then Jane said: "I wish
I had some cakes, Willy.e But the man
did not come, and the little girl began to
cry, for she was hungry. c" Dpot try,
dear Jane," said William, and he put his
little arms around her neck; but Jane only
cried more, and said: Oh, I amjo hun-
gry, Willy-I want my supper." The
little boy did all he could to comfort her,
and at last said: % Let us go out of this
TffI CHILDREN FORSAKEN. 51
dark place, and hunt for dear father's
houe, 'iwae we ean get something to eat,
and see i~the, aid have a nice warm bed
to lie in." Then his little sister was glad,
an( clapped her hands, and her brother
wiped the ters from her eyes. They
joined their hands together, and walked
up and down the wood, trying to find a
path. would have melted a heart as
hard as stone, to see how lonely they look-
ed, and how they started when the wind
shook the trees over their heads. At last
they began to pick blackberries from the
bushes, to eat them; and this they did till
they could reach no more. William gave
62 THE CHILDREN FORSAKEN.
the last ones to his sister, because.she was
smaller than he was. All day this noble
little fellow tried to comfort little Jane,
giving her the largest berries, lifting her
over roots and stones, and carrying her if
his arms. Do not cry, Jane," he kept
saying, "we will soon be at father's
house." But night came on, and then he
begkn to be sad too, became hdbas only
a child. So when Jane said: How hun-
gry I am, Willy-I cannot keep from cry-
ing," William began to cry too. It was
so dark, they could not see. where to go;
so they lay down on the cold ground, and
put their arms around each other's necks.
THE CHILDREN DIE. 68
There they cried until they fell asleep;
and when they awoke it was still dark,
nor was there anything for them to eat, so
they starved to death.
Their death is thus told in the balled:-
Their pretty lips with blackberries
Were all besmeared and dyed,
And when they saw the darksome night,
Thgy sat them down and cried.
Thus wandered these poor innocents,
Till death did end their grief;
In one another's arms they died,
As wanting due relief.
54 THB UNOLE.
No burial this pretty pair
Of any man receives,
Till robin redbreast piously
Did cover them with leaves.
Thus were these pretty harmless babes
murdered; and as no one knew of their
death, so there was no one to dig a grave
and bury them.
All this time the wicked uncle thought
they had been killed as he ordered, ms o t / ,
told all persons who asked him about bem
that they had died in London of the small
pox. Then he took all their money to him.
self, and lived upon it, as if he had got it ho--
nestly. But riches got by robbing orphan%
THE tUfCtE. .6
do their owmer ery little good; and so
this cruel man fopd. His wife soon got
sick which gave him a great deal of trou-
ble; and in a ttlbe: while she died. Be-
sides, he was vbry unhappy; all the time
he thought that he saw the bleeding chil.
dren before his eyj, so that he could not
attend this daipan instead
of growing richer, he every day became
poorer. And what added to his grief, his
: Souns, who had gone on board a ship to
seqheir fortunes, were both drowned at
sea. This wicked man was made so
wretched that life became a burden to
When things had gone on in this man-
ner for some years, the ruffian who had
taken pity on the children, robbed a man
in the very wood where the babes had
died. He was pursued, taken, and put in
prison. Then he was tried before a judge,
found guilty, and conc d to be hanged.
As soon as beJund ot t hedt die,
he sent for the keeper of the priAn6, and
told to him all the crimes that he ba bee
guilty of in his whole life.
At last he came to the story of poor
little William and Jane. He said that he
had often passed through that wood after.
wards, and thought each time of the bi-
dren that he had left there. One day,"
said he, as I was passing by some bushes,
I saw many robin, very busy with leaves
in their mouths. There were also a num.
ber up the trees, each with a leaf in its
mouth. Then I stooped down, and ab-
what a sad sight I I have seen many per-
sons die without once shedding a tear, but
now the tears came to my eyes, flowing fast-
er and tster, the more I looked at that sad
sight before me. There, on the ground
in one another's arms, lay the infants whom
I had left for some one to take up; and
the robin redbreasts had almost covered
them with leaves. I could see their faces
through the leaves. Their cheeks were
lying against each other, and both looked
as if they were only asleep. I wished
that I had left them at some house, but it
was then too late to wish.. Then I thought
that I would dig them a grave, but I was
afraid to touch them, lest, after all, they
might spring up at me. The birds too
looked as if they did not want me there;
and so I left them and hurried from the
spot. My heart bleeds when I think of
them, and often since I have tried to rob
their old uncle. I cannot die without tell-
ing this sad story about the two little ones,
who everybody has been told died of the
FATE OP THE UNCLE. 69
small pox is ondea. I know that they
are lying in the woods .now; for their
bodies did not decay, ad the leaves were
dropped green and fresh on them every
The ball thus tells the fate of the
wicked uncle, and of his two sons:-
And now the heavy wrath of God
Upon their uncle fell;
Yea, fearful fiends did haunt his house,
Did in his conscience dwell.
His barns were fired, his goods consumed,
His lands were barren made;
His cattle died within the field,
And nothing with him staid.
60 FATE OF THE UNCLE.
And in a voyage to Portugal,
Two of his sons did die,
And to conclude, himself was brought
To want and misery.
He pawned and mortgaged all his land,
Ere seven years came round;
And now at length this wicked act
Did by this means come out.
The fellow that did take in hand
These children for to kill,
Was for a robbery judged to die,
Such was God's blessed will.
FATE OF THE UNCLE. 61
Who did confess the very truth,
As here hath been displayed;
Their uncle having died in jail,
Where he for debt was laid.
Thus the4tory of the two children be-
came known; and at the same time the
ruffan told in what part of the woad he
had left them to starve. But before this
the uncle had been thrown in jail for debt.
The news of the robber's confession soon
reached his ears. Already the many ills
that had happened to him, had made him
broken-hearted; and now the news of
4e poor children starving to death was
too dreadful for him to bear. So he
62 BODIES FOUND.
stretched himself upon the cold ground in
his cell, and would listen to no words of
comfort, but died in horrible torment.
When the people heard this sad story,
they ran to the woods and bean to search
for the bodies of William and Jane.
They were found in each other's arms, all
covered over with leaves which the robin
redbreasts had brought in their mouths to .
cover them with. These leaves had made
a sort of grave so close end warm, that
the bodies of the little innocents had
been kept by them from decay.
You that executombe made,
Or for that olce seek,
Of children that be fatherless,
' d infants mild and meek,
Take you example by this thing,
And yield to each his right,
Lest God with this same misery
Your wicked minds requite.
. 4 ._:..-'fc:-... .,... . .-... .
GOMM L AMPLXTO. 14 CIESNUT ST.
U0010M APPLWWE mWS SUT IO PU i m.
Eittk 2nik's first Book,
CBIEPLY IN WOIEM OF ThRB LXBTT
BY HER MOTHER.
One Volume qure 16mo. Price 60 cents.
This little volume will commend itself to parts, a book for
children who have just mastered the alphabet.
Bob ttjp SquirreL
ILLUSTRATED WITH TWELVE ENORAVINGS
BT I mTae m RA7m.
One Volume square 1mo. Price 0S cents.
lob's adventures ae full of interest, and no child cn fil to be
mused d permanently benefited by the perusn of them. The
boek is designed for a child from six to ten yeas of age.
mm & mzAmmfts aV as fuomaons
"O, hpwl bsidbmd I Vwhm swt hai of panure
Aln phMbml the Is oft of lth ho mb-M. L.
BY MRS. ANNA BACHE.
One Volume square emo. Illmstrad with original designs.
4St 41ib'tri Etrful companion;
THa ANIISamIM AD ISTICTION Of T omU nFonL
One Volume 19mo. Price 6 ets.
m L APLm f JVUSs W AMS UXAIMn
A ISRIKE OF TALII
Iamm w Is a IO e Igot.
PRETTILY ILLUSTRATED BY CROOMF.
One Volim lam. Pric 7 ets.
"We fd in thiv od m al t U lfs SOo Wr's other pro-
ductiom, the mw linly latiBet, tS bwysat pod hsmor,
the &mr -etyl agdI vllueas Lg.alenht abr oteer-
vatioa sa duoeriim,th= ilm I yioable1 fol-
liem of tday, sd the -% He akig the Woe"u of
mUsIKrsad r, uigre." -W iue* Awiwas.
LIFE AND WANDO12lNOSt
ILLUSTRATED WITH TEN DEOIyS IY CROOME.
One Volum square 1is. P-rie 80 cent.
An iurtivctW and umai wrime, that wil be rad by evrr
"shi wit ps."
94CI 41*64 -lwwJti Back;
0il TAMR -Ap u2 4 "M tmin!.
BY ?ARO.- A. 1ttAk.
ILLUIT3ATUP O URl U4 3305k TllS.Z
oft Val... Iq. 1"& PA1SS moSs.
l)t 41)ilbk lDelight;
A GIFT FOR ALL SEASONS.
EDITED BY A LADY.
o s bonam r 1 v mI-.
0. Volumam square tOmo. Price I0 Mat..
OCh Vahmel rse 19iso. Price O e6n90
mOWU I. Am uPsnL s O aTu U rmuoiTnM.
CHEAP JUVENILE WORKS.
WASTE NOT, WANT NOTi
TWO STRINGS TO YOUR DOW.
o r MStA WIIb. I er
One Volum m q la 1. ]dis $6 mats.
INDUSTRY AND IDL~EMW OONTRASTED.
W MAMA 3DAWOUM
One TVomM mquir 1lime. Pru 2s tets.
AMIABILITY AND INDUSTRY REWARDED.
BY MAMA InewaS.M
Om Volm spquaot lmo. Prio M e0s.
THE FIRESIDE STORY BOOK
LAZY LAWREIE," "WAITE OT, WANT NOT MA "THE M ACUEET."
On Volume 1mo.. Priest r0 eats.
mmmi. APLIVS aIwMa ~mu.&muu.I
*i~rnuma's ]ibt Ztorlts
LITTLE BOYS AND GIRLS.
A SUMIZ OF ZZAWG 1MMONs TAX= lEO TEN KN1D AMD
ADAPTED TO TIM oAPACM OF VL Tomto C.*mmN.
NIRst=te% Whe uvuems 3ou uop
One Volume square l6mo. Price. 80 ceat.
Aimm & A.PgW aaM iaW MEIMML
Beautiful Cot Books,
1FO ALL GOOD CHILDIBN.
mrr LUS as, s% Im Vn V WU Tasm, am mmaUwL
am bb ur smeo.
wM rwr a arr.
wAm sae ]1ase Ama Iem% a as B I
lq iha, DWeclahwe Wi uis l cLb.
Iy p bedEAS weamsWr t of a fay mlp.
tase ds mwr Mamem, has LMSe Os er.
new SNr 4 Uaewh a ndbba athm.
vny urniEr TAM, PIii4M oM
Two 'Taom go PN~ mt&~u
UTwLE Law Fm UIm LEuNEx
in wesis atm ow wom.
BY MRS. BARWKLL,
ON volume spur. Imue. PRfr cO .. n"
eomeO &. APmSMg aIVTms emsm t om.
WITH ORIGINAL DESIGNS SY CROOME.
MURAD THK UNLUOKY.
THE MANUPFATU RES.
THi QRATfrUL NBQrO.
One Volum 1tIM. Prie 75 cents.
"'The writigp dat ri edg Um br L ra ly ben approached,
and nome hve excelled her. Br lerie ae so natural, and are
told with ech truthfhlas, that the reder become completely
3! MAA ]DAlWOREW
IMImU e D Wm oallM nc=m $r DABy EllY.
Prie 75 cmts.
"If we wired to do a yonag pena good while offering ame-
meat, to improve the beart while engagin the attention, Mnd to
give him or her little books which convey o fble or distorted no
tis of lifA-Mari Edgeworth i our author."--ae.
3 . IASL LPNAPS NM.S IAMSM I
Dtiint anb Aoral Songp,
FOr TEH UBV OF CRILDRKN,
rr UAA WAwW, 3.D.
zIam"a w"r a mmaru .a 0 - m na m a r JM
OM eleant vehu 1m. Prie 18 e0.
4 This ill be a eomtMt ritutre for the min. of ch dlMi t.t
they My w mv mtg to thk of whum aleo, d ig ever to
thenelve. This may ometimm give their thought diviMn tuaa
ead rn a young mditatioa. Thus they will not be fred to ek
relief fr a emptiame of mind out of the loom ad dI.Ing am.
tets of the age."-Beres frpe AauAr's Pr.bfe.
I110L ACIOa"lft IIY VWN60NINM
Ivtttilu satrakbb juvtu*Z.
DUTY Is SAFITTI
On. r. 1. M9
TNINIK 4110U V64 ACTI
0aY.3. q ~mi rlse. DuutuSh Pflo. "ft.
ACI, T1E SAILOR BOY,
of me-o-4aMot inWOQD.&
~il- nu~rrt~ cuws mv MEua
ftadA Win Im Awe "Arai PI bw m*w'- pw to ft
o"Iramm I. Ifto. ftwiii'sw
ma. hmmmU I mm .uL
(let rie Storg Book;
Trw inum.& OIm MUa, manu AM mamUA
SILICT TALUS JlN Tlit IM LIs.
a t mele sarm spogems.
M0T Volhnm *q r Imo. alf leh I0 ete. cloth eztm Oah
QGORGUIS dOUARNY ,
anb of gappintes.
BY A LADY.
OMfth tehm umm eto. ] gram,
0 Volume Iqu los. PriN cas.
mowa *. APmnawis aVvLmma WWIuATNM
4te Book of 2nimall;
MIIMIMD "rO TM mXrTU rAmmi nr Awr U
BY R. BILBY.
ILLUSTRATED WITN TWELVE DMiSI OF ANIMALS.
One Tlme se Mas. Price 0 cents.
TUh volme is ieiede beth a a ehtd erl lingl booa
er th young, abm*ui with Assedte. o the Qrdpeds, and
ilbated with -M w em Med &ip.
the qappp t)ilen;
A TALE OF HOME
ILLUSTRATED WITH ELEGANT ENGRAVIIGS.
One VoeM sq ar l1mo6. Prie 50 et.
A veaipeting volume hfr children from ix to twelve yeur
awwtutz for tip XPxstr5,0
37~ .A~~ du'uW- 3hm."
ILLUSTRATED WITH StXtUVgN- DKSIiNS.
OM Volume pwe 1k..m ?eo.w et& mqsused
COIMEB PLEAM -0 F0 TE TM
ON* Tebme squm ISM prim in wit cIsb
amm a. AMONOW .2suuain
IN h NEW AUV 9 io hr
plot'*? In 23 313 As303"*. 312 Z1333.
-MM IPns -U Aow u
N=ims I ow uor o r=a
rau mnnolor AOU=
GEORK S. ipg;%L- 1*09"B, JUVENILE PULII*
rX.-O L z I.V,
a n ay~:i
VP IN DO ENS SSO*
.i, 1O N T.1
ATORN Is P.
,e .i~l'd g it~ l~ 1' ?;~SbL
.. N) SST. .~
YOM:r. a1N~NW N Ila
_~; ~;tW~i~i~ I OZb~ sb'LOROt 'P6
'-dw,.. 5'.'-. jW '.7, t- r7