The parent's assistant, or, Stories for children


Material Information

The parent's assistant, or, Stories for children
Stories for children
Physical Description:
3 v. : ; 15 cm.
Edgeworth, Maria, 1767-1849
Milligan, Joseph
Dinmore & Cooper
Published by Joseph Milligan
Place of Publication:
George Town
(Dinmore & Cooper, printers
Publication Date:
1st American ed.


Subjects / Keywords:
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Juvenile literature -- 1809   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1809
Juvenile literature   ( rbgenr )
fiction   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- George Town


Statement of Responsibility:
by Maria Edgeworth.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
All applicable rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier:
aleph - 020353396
oclc - 12308239
System ID:

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Full Text

4-7 T

-me Baldwin Library Umve-aity
~; ~Florida










!hnniore &# Cosper, P itee



.411 who have 772editatedon the art qfgoi,,-rninginankind, have been convinced that thefi"re Of C7nl,'i?-cs depends on the education of' youth

A TMOTTO front Arisiotle rm-v 1;,ar pedantic, but it was chosen nieveiv (i such high authoril*, to the folioNN 11, I; Sk Dr. Johiison.
I Education,' says lie, c
and'has lunt- been as -vell kncivii as ever it ('111 be. Endcavourin g to In""ke
xvise isuseless
InIN (, more knoivledge m I INc ()r s f ld
lildi-CII! w h j-t 11 3, ,rl
N 41 1,c lost before it i ;


er is never to be repaid.'* The remainder of this passage contains such an illiberal attack upon a celebrated female Writer, as ought surely to have been suppressed by Dr. Johnson's biographer. When the doctor attempted to ridicule this lady for keeping an infant boarding-school, and for condescending to write elementary books for children, he forgot his own eulogium upon Dr. WVatts, of whom he speaks thus :
SFor children he condescended to lay aside the philosopher, the scholar, and the wit, to write little poems of devotion, and systems of instruction adapted to their wants and capacities, from the dawn of reason, to its gradation of advance in the morning of life. Every: man acquainted with the common principles of human action, will look with veneration on the vriter, who is at one time combating., Locke, and at another time making a catechism for children in their fourth year. A veluntary descent from t ignite of science is perhaps the hardest lesson which humility can teach.'
It seems, however, a very easy tsk to write for children. Those only wo hae been interested in the education of a nily, vI ho have patiently followed children through i te fir.; processes of reasoning, who lhave

B ,swel' Life of Johnsonr

I 0 cc their t I feelLCk i L's
,:I, -, ; ca,;,
th( ."kilv
are fol I iurl, oll v hich tile Illtun, ta,, Le,
pt ntlcc, L-,I)d '11 ,ppiclcss dep'!1)(1, Cuil fcci t!IC
11ML Clan' L:rs and (illikilities of' Such all U11w
For a Icngth of liinc eilucation was ( lassc( t tile subjects "I vu ','ue tllll mel (I)LN

Ck ipccuLtloll ; but, of Lee, it has attz6l ccl
L iti proper station in cKpulincnwI philosu jiliy.
tc The sobcr Sense of Ijd tile enthutia-tic, eloquence of fl!)ussuti, iiLoe tt,
thi object tile attCli6on of phiiosopllers and Loll Mel) of genills. ALIly 1 (,I i ;,, liaNe bc 11 il
ventcd, st eral '11st olj,.,U oLiolls bale lx :
ioaeLe, and soine few facts hav( !)uen 01i bli'died.
n: Ili% Reil re-marks, that I if we cnii7, ( ')t ,i
a d stiflct md full hi--toly of ,![ th',
t J in the wind of a I Ild t,
and sebLiti 11 it
k I v nt
work, and how thev bro1w.,hi f(,ith zorl rip, 1, to ed all tile, \-,rious notions, opillijis, s(:Ilt iN 111 :Ilts V kic"I N. e fnd in I% 11en
C01-11C tO C,,!T)alic of reflection, tliis Nk, 1,
he n oi llistoc which %wlld
more IiAlt jIlto Ike

about them, since the beginning of the world'.'
Indeed, in all sciences the grand difficulty lhas been to ascertain facts; a difficulty, which in the science of education peculiar circumstances conspire to increase. Here the objects of every experiment are so interesting, that we cannot hold our minds indifferent to the result. Nor is it to be expected, that many registers of experiments, successful and unsuccessful, should be kept, much less should be published, when we consider, that the combined powers of affection and vanity, of partiality to his child, and to his theory, will act upon the mind of a parent, in opposition to the abstract love of justice, and the general desire to increase the wisdom and happiness of mankind.
Notwithstanding these difficulties, an attempt to keep such a register has actually been made : it was he n in he year 1776, long before DoctorR ootsmi puhblished. The design h s fr time to time been pursued to this present year; and though much has not been collected, every circumstance and conversation that has been preserved is faithfully and accurately related.
These notes have been of great advantage to the writer of the following stories; and

Dr. Reid on the I,- ect.d Powers of Man.

he will probably at some future time, be laid beIty fore the public, as acollectionof experiments ch upon a subject which has been hitherto treatS ed theoretically.
The following tales have been divided into
two parts, as they were designed for different 'g classes of children. The question whether
to society could subsist without the distinction
ia- of ranks, is a question involving a variety of
rid complicated discussions, which we leave to
ss the politician and the legislator. At present it at is necessary that the education of different ty ranks should, in some respects, be different: ry, they have few ideas, few habits in common;
si- their peculiar vices and virtues do not arise he from the same causes, and their ambition is
nd to beh directed to different objects. But justice, truth, and humanity, are confined to no t- particular rAnk, and should be enforced with
l equal care and aergy upon the minds of
6 young peop station; and itis hoped
n that 1 ever been forgotn ten in thle IJioo i tO
hAsthe idcas of children multiply, the language of their hooks should become less sinelse their taste will quickly be disgusted, o remain stationary. Children that live
S ith people who converse with elegance, will d ot be contented with a style inferior to what
they hear from every body near then


It 11)"', 'aI! 1 ,11
Ituge is 1 ictaplhol.ic-frona CIC com-] stiw ofthu mail'i ;11 tile nurscr -, IvIlo Illits a cro s infall" to sleep, to that of' tile Imlyin the (11.,I)Ving rown, wil(), with silly CiN-ili"Vtakes a cllil(i upon her ILLI) to entertain it by a rcpc ition fashion-tblc pflrase (tile temn is di ,
gracefully u.iturali!,c(l in our voc ibulm- ) COI tains as niuch 'lwl as abstra(- nlettpllor us call be found in the most 1'efintI litcriry IAnguage. Not- have, we reason to support" tfi it onc kind of iriet;ip!ior js mort, dill'icult thun unuther to be uwicr lood 1) V c!, iidrun thcv frequently hear tile most conkpliciaed nict'Lphorical uxpressions il C01INCI-sation, inch as alllulu to, our Elsinons and thc prejudice ; of' societY, Nvith which arc itaerly unac(itiainted.
All poeLic,d allusions have, hw% ci cr, bcca aVOidCd ill thiS bOOk ; Only SUC-11 SiLLEI, iole Ml e described as children C'ln easily imaLj, C., a:ld which Illay con' Cqlmlt &Jllterust t1w7l. -Cclings. Such CxalIljdle4m Virt & are as are not aboNL ihciWTonception of c-,ccllence, and thch- powcts of svmp.t1hy ,nd CnIukition.
Itisnoteaw to L-%u to
1( culv do Clclli
foswriwl so"Ile 11 I."iu' or p, -iO dic stozw Of Llyv I m rclicc, JCCt NVL,, to excl! c a sl) cil U li ii bccii 1,kkk:n 11) PrO-011"i''Il "I,


the eKertion, and to point out that people feel cheerful and happy whilst they are employed.
IV Vhe reward of our industrious boy, though it H be money, is only money considered as the
means of gratifying a benevolent wish. In a lie commercial nation, it is especially necessary
to separate, as much as possible, the spirit of
industry and avarice; and to beware lest we
introduce Vice under the form of Virtue.
In the story of Tarlton and Loveit, are represented the danger and the foly of that weakness of mind, and easiness to be led, which too often pass for good nature; and in t thle story of the False Key, are pointed out
some of the evils to which a well educated boy, when he first goes to service, is exposed,
from the profligacy of his fellow servants.
In the Birth-dlay Present, in the History of
Ae ademoiselle Panache, and in the chla1racter of Mrs. Theresa Tattle, the Parent's Assistant has pointed out e daners wici may a ise in education f4p a bad s- rvant, a silly
C .OvernesS, and a comon01l ac '1airtance.
S In the Barring-out, the 'reors to which a
high spirit and the love of p:rty are apt to lead, have been made the subject of correction ; and it is hoped that the common faul of making the most mischievous characters appear the most active and the most ingeni' 00, has been a much .s possible. av .


Unsuccessful cunning will not be admired and cannot induce imitation.
It has likewise been attempted in thes stories to provide antidotes against ill-h mour, the epidemic rage for dissipation, an the fatal propensity to admire and imitat whatever the fashion of the moment may dis tinguish. WVere young people, either in pub lic schools or in private families, absolutel free from bad examples, it would not be ad viseable to introduce despicable and viciou characters in books intended for their imn provement. But in real life they nzst se vice, and it is best that they should be earl shocked with the representation of What the: are to avoid. There is a great deal of diTer ence between innocence and ignorance.
To prevent precepts of morality from tirin, the ear and the mind, it was neccssary t make the stories in which they are introduce in. some measure dramatic; to keep aie hope, and fear, and cu sity, by some degre of in-ricacy. At the same time care has bee! taken to avoid inflaming the imagination, o exciting a restless spirit of adventure, by ex hibiting false viea s of life, and creating hope which, in the ordinary course of things, can not be realised.
Dr. Johnson-to recr to him, n, ot fiom i sprit of contradiction, but from a fear tha his authority shold eatchiish errors-Dr


e Jhnson says, that Babies do not like to
hear stories of babies like themselves; that le they require to have their imaginations raised
-ht by tales of giants, and fairies, and castles, and an iichantments.' The fact remains to be provtat ed : but supposing that they do prefer such di, tales, is this a reason why they should be in3u dulged in reading them ? It may be said that
tel a little experience in life would soon convince
them, that fairies, giants, and enchanters, are 10 not to be met with in the world. But why
in should the mind be filled with fantastic viS sions, instead of useful knowledge? Why
should so much valuable time be lost? Why should we vitiate their taste, and spoil their appetite, by suffering them to feed upon sweetmeats ? It is to be hoped, that the marn gic of Dr. Johnson's name will not have power to restore the reign of fairies.
ic But even when the improbability of fairy
tales is avoided, care should be taken to keep C objects in their just proportions, when we atS tempt an imitation of real life.
I Love, hatred, fear, and anger, are to be
Raised in the soul,' says an eminent poet, by
S shewing their objects out of their true pron portion, either greater than the life or less;
but instruction is to be given, by she wing n them what they really are.' 1h

And surely, a writer -%ho sincicrcy V. sh
to increase the happiness of rnankind,' find it easy to give up the farti that might Lb
acquired by eloquence, when it is injurioust V the cause of truth.

The Stories, entitled, The Little Dog Tru.,
ty, The Orange Alan, and the Thi,,, and Ti'b Purple Jar, which were given in the forine edition, are transferred to a work for youngei
children, entitled,EARLY LESSON--


IN the pleasant valley of Asht ,. i e
Eved an elderly woman of the nar.- eof T,,, ton; she had a smallneat cottage, a "l was not a weed to be seen in h, i, It w ,-; iyon tier garden that she pen(led f'(-i- support: it consistedof sttai,- iry bcds, aiid (nic small border for t-,- The pink,, aaJ v,,ies she tied tin in nic(her to Cliftoi or
bt sold; as to her strawber, ies, bhe did n -,t nd them to market, because it was the cusi n-t for nurnl)- r, of people fror,-,
Cfifkoi), in tl,,c tiyr),.
hol-rics ard ci,'t! ;i the ull iii
Nt)-,,,- the willow Presto i s,)
iii,,tl v,.)od-humoured, t1l,
to see her %vas pll-as ('A W 1: 'tl Ohls rn. anci i

the money which she had saved was gpent i payi g f4r medicines. The winter passe away, while she was so weak that she could earn but little by her work; and, when th summer came, her rent was called for, an the rent was not ready in her little purse a usual. She begged a few months' delay, an they were granted to her; but at the end that time there was no resource but to se her horse Lightfoot. Now Lightfoot, though perhaps he had seen his best days, was a ve ry great favourite: in his youth, he had al ways carried the dame to market behind he husband; and it was now her little son Jem' turn to ride him. It was Jem's business t feed Lightfoct, and to take care of him; charge which he never neglected, for beside being a very good-natured, he was a vetr industrious boy.
It wili go near to break my Jem's heart said dame Preston to herself, as she sat on evening beside the fire, stirring the ember, and considering how she had best open th S matter to her son, who stood opposite to her eating a dry crust of bread very heartily fo supper.
Jem,' said the old woman, what a huna rv '
'That I am, brave and hungry"


sse Aye! no wonder; you've been brave hard
oul at work-Eh r '
t Brave hard! I wish it was not so dark,
a mother, that you might just step out and see
e the great bed Ee dug; I know you'd say it an was no bad day's wvork-and, oh mother!
A I've good news; farmer Ti uck will give us
se the giant-strawberries, and I'm to go for ug 'er to-morrow morning, and I'll be ba k I ve afore breakfast.' I a 'God bless the boy! how he talks! Four
I he mile there, and four mile back again, afore em' breakfast!'
>s t 'Aye, upon Lightfoot ycu know mother,
; very easily, mayn't I ?'
ide 'Aye, child.'
'Why do you sigh mother?'
'Finish thy supper, child.'
I've done,' cried Jem, swallowing the
S last mouthful hastily, as if he thought h. hiad ers been too long at supper-' and now for the th gieat needle; I must see and mend Lighthe foot's bridle afore I go to bed.' To work he set, by the light of the fire, and the dame having once more stirred it, began again with
a Jem, dear, does he go lame at all now
'What Lightfoot! Oh sla, no, not he ..
"er was so well of his lameness in all hi :
e'; grown quite ~oung again, I think, in


then hV5 so fat hie can hardly wag.,.
(;od bM1csx him, that's right; we niust scei Jern, and keep him fat.'
FTor hat mother?'
For Monday for-night at the fair. lie' to be-oid!'
'Li htfot! cried jem, and let the bri die fal froil his hand ; 4 and w7Y! mnotht sell Lightfoot?'
!,-Wt! no: but I mzust, Jeoin
Must who savs you mius, ~ ya vou mother"'
'I must, I say, child. Whv must not T I-ay my dtbts honesty-and must not I pav
myrent-and wa s nor i t call ed for 1It1 an, l og ago-nd have not I had timne and d not) I pom-,ise to Pay it for Certain Mi~
fortnight, 1 an a I )t two Pun'xbr
an -Ir a I ts get two ;uineas. So N. i
~ditistalkiii g cluld,' said the vid'y v 1t ing, he(r heal up(on her ain m, L", L -,,I

jem11 wax S"I1nt for a few; miuuteq.
Two guineas; ihat's a great, grea d I, I worked, and worked, and Avo-rkcd hard, I could lit ways earn two tn J- Monday fortni)ght-COUld 1, riotheri
Lo rd he ulp thee, no ;not au' vr th
et- todath.'


could earn somzcth;nv, though, I f-110,7,-I ,,l J-m proud! 4and I vl ri earn it be c,, k i little, it -,A ill tIle' Go my vcf4, tbest; so

bri "I'liat Pra sure of, iny clillcl,' said
thu (Ii-awing him to vards htr,;iv1
Iiiin ; 1yo wer6alvavs a good, inilw L;
01ili la(!, 1!,at I will say albre your face (r
I)clj' ml voiir back;-but it -vyon't do
l1i,1)t!,0Qt P:111 t go.
(0) t I jem tried w, y, struggling to F,11(:
V tcai-s. an(l N% ent, to bed without saying a
lilUrL,. But be t iftt crying v
rF no good, so Ile pi his c-,,
Jav aNvakc, con! i ler'ng what he could rc;:to s,N e the I)orse. I If I gtt (-N,( r ,j(j
little be still said to Likiself, It Av q be and who knows bit lai t rd Tfi7; ht.tlicn vait a bitlonge ? and v j11,t1:e ILall up in time; for a penn-,ir-iglit come to two guineas n tiir.e:,
But how to get the first penny Nv*a8
,rhen he recall cted, diat one day, wh,,,n lie hat! been s nt to Clifton to sellsome
1 0 vLn, 1,e 11 ad seen an old woman wil-h
bc ,Jde her, covereJ wi,-'IVP!
I OT I sio-necl to I ( k
and, be rii n f


some people bought the stones; one pal twopence, another threepence, and another ihpence for them; and Jem heard her s thac she got them among the neighbourin rocks: so he thought that if he tried, h might find some too, and sell them as sh had done.
Early in the morning he wakened full o this scheme, jumped up, dressed himself and having given one look at poor Lightfo in his stable, set off to Clifton in search of th old woman, to inquire where she found he sparkling stones. But it was too early in th morning, the old woman was not at her seat She turned back again disappointed. H did not waste his time waiting for her, bu saddled and bridled Lightfoot, and went t farmer Truck's for the giant-strawberries A gre~ part of the morning was spent ii putting them into the ground; and, as soor as th:at was finished, he set out again i quest of the old woman, whom, to his grea oy, he spied sitting at her corner of th street with her board before her. But thi old woman was deaf and cross; and when at las: Jvm made her hear his questions, he colt get no answer from her, but that she found the fossils where he would never fin any more.

pal But can't I ok where you looked? '
)the Look away obody hinders you,' rspid
r the old woman; and these were the only
r words she would say.
Jem was not, however, a boy to be easily
discouraged; he went to the rocks, and walk1 ed slowly along, looking at all the stones as
sel e passed. Presently he came to a plce
where a number of men were at work loosS ening some large rocks, and one amongst
h the workmen was stooping down, Loking
th for something very eagerly. Jem ran up, eat and asked if he could he!p hini Yes,' said
He the man, 'you can; I've just dropped, abu mongst this heap of rubbish, a fine piece of
crystal that I got to day.'
S 'What kind of a looking thing is it ? said
nes Jem.
tu ''White, and like glass,' said the man,
r and went on working, whilst Jern looked S very carefully over the heap of rubbish for
ea a great while. Come,' said the mnan, it's th gone for ever; don't trouble yourself any
thi more my boy.'
I a 't's no trouble; I'll look a little kngee
S we'll not give it up so soon,' said Jemi ;
sh after he had looked a little longer, he ;.unt
the piece of crystal.
'Thank'e,' said the man, you are a fine
little industrious fellow?.


t i neonraged by the tone of vice which the man spoke this, ventured to hn the same questions which he had as4 t!,e old woman. I One good turn desert anoi her,' said the man; we are going to ner just now, and shall leave off work; for me here, and I'll make it w orth v while.'
Jem m wated; and, as he was very at tively observing how the n orkmen went vith their woi, he heard somebody him give a great yawn, and, turning ro he saw stretched upon the grass, beside rive r, a boy about his own age, who he kn 1Vr" ell went, in the village of Ashton,
the ame of Lazy Lawrence; a name w he most justly deserved, for he never any thi~g from morning to night; I nci worked nor played, but sauntered or low ed about, restless and yawning. His fat was an alehouse-keeper, and being gene drunk, could take no care of his son, so Lazy Lawrence grew every day wome unrsc. However, some of the neig1o aid that he was a good-natured poor fell and would never do any hab ut 1hmelcf; whil't others, who were v often s'ok theirhlad', and t1J t
illness was the root of all ed 1!.

LAZY LAWRENCF4 What, Lav, rence cried JeTu to him,
lit: upon the grassP
Not quitc.'
Are vou aw:t! c w N Ot CIL, It(-,.'
Al fi lt ai-L N'OU (10ing tbCrC
A t w! at aic -ou tbinkin;z of?'

4 W'hat mA you Ue thcre
t don't kno %-hcf ausc I can't find
lbwly to plav nic to day-wiH y(,
and pti,-,-?
No I Fm LosV"
l,,L,,%,,,ren (-, Ent" r Eclf N ou art alwav- 1 usv. I v n, -L
for ll-,: li'm"- ) Int-ll
N t And U jcmt LliglM,--I v., t
cr i;f, N-OLI 102- -,,OI!d, to
0 Sr, C foir the

1111 hoin. I,,, v, n house.
Pan,"I (A f v 1--, h lhad
11111t Pj 11co i It
I J, t lic t lhc. 11


small basket, and gave them to Jcm to upon condtion that he should bring hii of what he got. Jem, pleased to be empl ed, w as ready to agree to what the manI posed, provided his mother had no obj to it. WIhn he went home to dinner, told his mother his scheme, and she smi and said he might do as he pleased, for was not afraid of his being from home 'You are not an idle bo,' said she, there is little danger of your getting into mischief.'
Accordingly, Tern that evening took stand, with his little basket, upon the ot the river, just at the place where pe Ilad ifom a ferry bou, and w here the turns to the wells, where numbers of pe perpetually pass to drink the wa :rs. chose his place well, and w:1 aioSt evening, offering his fossis unb rent duitv to every passenger; bu: at one son bought any. 'Holla!' crit d:me ors, who had Just rowed a :t to
'ear a had he:re vill -c n: l M :1Y4
carry tiese parcels for ut iuo y hoase.' Jen. r.:n 'c w:1 imn ntdy to por.v:~s, and dlii v ht h: as a :d to quickly. and :.K :5 .. m c. good nill,

and, when he wvas going away, stopped to ask hlim what he had got in his little basket; and whecn he sa hat they- were fossils, ht
e iminediatceW told Jern to follow him, for that
li; Nia going to carry some si'lus hie hadl
er broughtfront abroad to a lady in the neighbourI~od wvho was making a grtto. I Sh or will very likely buy your,, stones into the bax;Me gain;come along my I d, we can but try."
The lady lived bu t a vy little way ofF, Ito so ta they were soon at her house. She
wa lne in her parlour, and was sorting a ck hudeof feathers; of different colours; thev
b Jay o a sheet of pastebo)(ard upon a window'PC -et and it ha cu'ewd that ais the sailor was11
butldin ond the table to seoff his le, pe lekovd dow n the sheet of pas;te-board
i.d MC cared all the feathers.
o~s The lady looked very ornhc en
t observirg, he took the po, tvI
sewas busy looking over the sailor's bag e of shells, to gather together all the feather,,,
and sort theccor to their different colouirs, as he had seen them sortedl when ht
fis ane into thec room.
Wilerc is the: little boy you brought -with
d YO thuhtIaw hipm here just nov:
1 And herO I ami, in.'am, cried fernI,
from L!1nder the tabl th tome fe


remaining feathers n hich hc had picked f the carpet; I thought,' added he, point to the others, I had better be doing so thing than standing idle, ma'am.' S e s led, and pleased wvith his activity and s plicity, began to ask him several queStio such as, who he was, where he live," w employment he had, and how much a day earned by gathering fossils.
This is the first day I ever ti ied,' Jem. I never sold any Yet, and, if don't buy 'em now na':n, i'm afraid no dy else will, for I've asked every body k'Come then,' said the lady, laughing, that is the case, I think I had better tIn t all.' So emptying all the fiasils out of b:14ct, she put half a crown into it. Je c, sarkled with joy. 'Oh, thank ma'am,' said he, I will be sure and La you as man more to-morrow.
'Yes, but I de: pr nise you,' said to give V'ou baIf a crown to-nunrrow.' But, perhaps, though you don't prone

taihe la, onot
self I snev' at I will nc!t. f



meapt by tis, but answ-eredJ, 'Ib T!:i don't wish to be ile; vwhart I want s-i something every dlay if I knew how sure I don' wish to be idle. If you nall v'd know I did not.' 'Hwdo you mrean, if I kinez aZ/s'
Why I mean, if y-ou kwew aboutL4h foaot.,
'Who is Lightfooti'
&WhN,mPammy's horse,' added Jen,,~o
i19Out Of the window; I'1 mu t make at
home and feCed him afore it -g. t dark; h-'11 wondr what's gone with mne.
'Let him wonder r a few minutes liger, said the ladly, I'and tell use tho- rest of yotr

'Ive no Story mna'azn to) td. 0b1 as many says mki-ust go to te iir Monday fortnight to be sold, if sec~ ... t th two guineas for her rent; and I should be Main sorry to part with him,-, for loehm anld he loves me; so I'll Worklehii will, all I can: to be sure, as rin I have no chance, such a li ttlef :3CdI o ,f earning two guineas afore "lna ot

B$ut are( you in Carlet !~in o vor
5'i y; 'iolu i ow thtre is. a se
d of diff.r not between picking i


nes :?md every day, art
y long.'
But,' said jem, I I would work evcr c-T and all day long.'
"17hen,' said the hadv T v,-ifl vive v
rk. Come re to-niorrow i, ni 195 !;If
-:7a-dener,,- s, to
,1- s, and I v pav ) uu si-, Intrrber you must be at t,,o'clock.'
jeni bow, d, thanIked her, and ,. -a
v ,.s latc in the'Zvening, and
to get home to feed
ed that he had proni -,-,a
--o 1-1,n to sell tEx 1 la
lialf of what -o
tiat lie
awavlie wc I i
-Iy -,V
ie 'ater side af)out a
ti' he canie to the inar'; lif,
come hol, fi 'M vol", z d v, as

-0U, knov-'
S"Wa il-- when -fie had
ta'-e half Gf it

A, ar, C that
c and that A f, ;



,-I tw sillings, and take this LJIF clOwn.
Swieopened an old glove e, and took out, '0 osigs ; and the ruan, as she opened
ht 7oe, put in his fingers, and took outa iite ivr pen. 'There, he. shall hax ~ nothe bar gain fcr his honesty. li-on~vis tole best policy. TIhere's a lucky pcn, 1r you, that I've kept ever since I uan

L~atyou ever go to part with it, do ied the woman.
nu eo What he will with it,
~ ar~uc dthe wife, I another
~ doj ~: ~ cllto huv ii~rr..
~' ~hat s whatI v o for.'

so o I. 0 ~. eI to bed, ime.u
~c xe '. el th n~roMg, and wNr

fou da r 'every clay ard
dax-hing' ni li lu ev-ry eve(ng "71 .he came oat- ta5 ,-kinhr ga-r'e, ia
-t hi-, work. A atshe said to her gr ner, Thi ilebo oks very* hard.*
(e7er lado goa a little boy about t%
rouns, ai te Iidne;he's taI o ,lt me con e by whe-n I iUan


hehsgpt tv. The as much done as aoh
I do ; yts twice as much, ma'am ; fo
kek hc-he beg-an at this here rose Dos
-~ nw h'sgot to where you stand, ma'-. i rd wis the day's wvork thait t'othe r bo
~AJe' three years older too, did to-dav
I a, uas are J en-is fairly, and it's twi!c as -cluch, I'1m- Sire7.'
XWel, said he lady to Tier gardener, show ine how Pcinch is a fair, good day's work fh a boy of his ago.'
Comec at six o'clock, and go at six wy
aotthis much ma'am,' said the gardeer, ra -ik~ng off a piece of the border withl hi s

Then, litl o1' said the lady s nauch shall be ouLr tasK every day; thie r'Ifr wI mAk t off fo r you- a-nd 1hen oa've done, the rst of the day, VOU ma;l dif vatvoU Please ".'
rem was extren-vely glad of ti u h
'ti day he had flashed his teh < or
S'lc O he had all thie rest of tla eAvi1r;
o~~~e hisef Jer wa as fond of play asan
~Jebo coldb-e, ind, when he was at It
~~1cyrcl ,v .it llte aernjess and gaiety V~
so a son aPCh had "n~e I,
tar i~ Lihtfetanti put by the, sxN 1
vr:- thatbv, r atosh Av


Sroand in the vllage, where he found a parSof boys playing, and amongst thern Lazy Lawrence, who indeed was not playing, bat lounging upon a gate with his thumb in his mouth. The rest were playing at cricket, Jem joined them, and was the merriest and most active amongst them ; till, at last, when anite out of breath with running, he was obliged to give up to rest himself, and sat down upon the stile, close to the gate on which Lazy Lawrence was swinging.
SAnd why don't you play, Lawrence said he.
I'm tired,' said Lawrence.
Tired of what ?'
I don't know well what tires me; grandmother says I'm ill, and I must take something. I don't know what ails me.'
I Oh, pugh! take a good race, one, two, three, and away, and you'll find yourself as well as ever. Come, run-one, two, three, and away.'
Ah, no, I can't run indeed,' said he, hanging back heavily ; you know I can play all day long if I like it, so I don't mind play as you do, who have only one hour for it.'
SSo much the worse for you. Come now, c2


I'm q1te fresh again, wvill you have one gan at ball ? do.'
'N o, I tell you I can't; I'm as tired .s :fI had been working all day long as hard as a horse.'
Ten times more,' said Jew, for I have been working all day long as hard as a horse, and yet you see Im not a bit tired; only a little out of breath jist now.'
'That's vt odd,' said Lawrence, and yawned, for want of some better answer; .hen taking out a handful of halfpence-' see :hat I got from father to-day, because I askd bhim just at the right, time, when he had
r:k a glass or two; then I can get any hing I want out of him. See! a penny, wo-pence, three-pence, four-pence-th re's eight-pence in all; would you not be happy f you had eight-Pened'
'Why, I don't know.' said Jem laughing, fr you don't seem happy, and you /mue ght-pence.'
'That does not signify, though-I'm sure
ou only say that because you envy n- S
o don't know what it is to have eight- 5 penc:-you never In:d more than two-pence or three-pence, at a time, in all your life.'
jm smniled. Oh, as to that,' said he V 'yoen are :nistakep, fLr I hav e at this very


,me more than two-pence, three-pence, or eight-pence either; I have-let me see,ones, two shillings; then five day's work, that's five sixpences, that's two shillings a sixpence, in all makes four shillings and six pence, and my silver penny, is four and seven-pence. Four and seven-pence !'
You have not !' said Lawrence, rouised so as absolutely to stand upright, four and seven-pence have you? Shlw it me, and then I'll believe you.'
Follow me then,' cried Jem, and I'l soon make you believe me ; come.'
SIs it far?' said Lawrence, following halt running, half hobbling, till he came to th. slabe, where Jem shewed him his treasure.
'And how did you come by it ? honesSHonestly! to be sure I did; I earned it alL'
SLord bless me, earned it! well, I've a great mind to work; but then it's such ho: weather; besides grandmother says I'm not strong enough yet for hard work ; and besides, I know how to coax daddy- out of money when I want it, so I need not work But four and seven-penc ; let's see, what will you do with it 11?'
That's a secret,' said Jem, looking great.


c a~n gi ess ;I know whal I'd d- h
iit Nv mine. First, I'd buy p kets lo gingerbread; then I'd buy ever so nirw upples and nuts; don't you love n.ts ? I buy nuts enough to last me from this time to Christmas, and I'd make little Newton crack 'em for me, for that's the worst of mts, there's the trouble of cracking Well, you. never deserve to have a nut.'
But you'll give me some of yours,' sai Lawrence in a fawning tone, for lie thought it easier to coax than to work-' yo-u: give me some of your good things, won't yu
I shall not have any of these good things,' said Jem.
Then what will vou do with al your mney *
'Oh, I know very well what to do n ith it; but, as I told you, that's a secret. and I shan't tell it any body. Come now, let's go back and play-their gan:e's up, I dare say.'
Lawrence went back with ha full of cut, and out of humour with himself a his eight-oence. If I had fur ands vzn-pence,' said he to himself, I certainly
shI he happy !'
e next lay, as usual, Jem jumped up
-ie six o'clok and v-e:t ;o h s we.


,jili1st azy Lawren ,e struntered about witi. what to do with birnseE in
'Out knoNA'Ing v.
tile course or lays he laid out six-p C,! 1iij money in w-," 'Id gingerb),
as thk I- e foup d h in,
d byhis co.npanions but at
,,ii.,d day he spent his Li t hl '
it v c mfo i L
-as gone, u -t
-pted him N- !ry _v,
-to pay f jr tht
-3 f" idier as lie
i- he Icard his V; IT
id at first he though- rl t -.,,as druiaK
he op-ned the 'I" LO

c on the c r 't iC
lis cN.Cs ol
Ve U071' !I)r
L-.t-wrcn( looked alie u-c of h s senses, vinti,
alWz -Incru-' mj rem lrsc' L '! t.
a dozen bottics bur ,,, wid th, f
estcrsh-e evcIer
NWki, Glir; not I ord, i tl
to carry tht-se b o V:'
t I charge you to -,A- 11 c, ar you lazy tascal (t


,es7 sad Larrrence, scratching his he
And why was it not done ? I ask you c(Id nis father with renewed anger, as ano thtr Lottie burst at the moment. Wh
uyoul standd there for, you lazy brat? v.
d7n' you mnove ? I sa-x--no, no,' catchi!xp
hdofhim, I I believe y ou can't move ; b"' IL1 make yout.' And he shook him, t] Lawrence was so giddy he could not tan''What had you to think of? what had -,to do) all day long, that v on could net c --!n my cyd er, my WVorctestersh~re cyden to t cellar when I bid you ? But go, you"lln ren good forany thing, you are suen(:
-ay rascal-get out ofmy sIght !' So sa-.
~n epusghed him out of the house dcuo and Lawec leaked off, seeing that th:i
xasno timetoae his petition for hal

r11e nex-,t day he saw the nuts a ga -m, an7 7"
whigfor -them more than ever, went ho V inhopes That his, father, as he said to him re coldb in a betterc humour. But the cv a
wa tl re-sh in his recoliectioia
th mn xi Lwrnebean to whi rIer
wordhalp~niy,'in his ear, his father sxvo,
.vi6h a lodoath, I Iwill not give von a hlf~ i penny, no-, not a fatbthng, for a mnh tl
Ve~ olt want ruoney, go v orit fn)-i


I've had enough of your laziness-go work! At these terrible words Lawrence burst intotears, and, going to the side of a ditch, sat down and cied for an hour ; and when he had cried till he could cry no more, heexerted himself so far as to empty his pocket. to see whether there might not happen to be one halfpenny left; and, to his great joy,. ini the farthest corner of his pocket one halfpenny was found. 'With this he proceeded to the fruit woman's stall. She was busy weighing out some plums, so he was obliged to wait; and whilst he was waiting, he heard some people near him talking and laughIng very loud. The fruit woman's stall was at the gate of an inn-yard; and peeping through the gate in this yard, Lawrence saw a postillion and stable-boy about his own size playing at pitch-farthing. He stood by watchin, them for a few minutes. I begun but with one halfpenny,' cried the staok-boy with an oath, and now I've got twcpence E added he, jingling the halience in his aistc coat pocket. Lawrence wasn mo d a th sound, and said to himself If I wi:h one halfpenny, I may end like ith ha~ ing twopence; and it is easi ay at
pitch-farthing than to work.' ,
So he stepped forward present his half-

1-,.i;.Y LAWftENCE.

p nny ofTeriti,1-1c)w 6 up-vvith the stal-' ,,-:
-.vh,-I,',,fi er looJJn -, hind full in the face, ac(, -.pted d, c proposal, and tbrevv his haffpcirp y nU the ai,
i or tail F cried he.
iead,' replied Lawrence, and it
b( id. He sized the penny, surprisi-,, a Iiisown success, ard would havegoje inst knt
to avc lairl it out nuts ; but the st, !A
stopped him, a-ind tempted him to
ain. This time he lost he thre.- o;--ai
a--d won ; aLd so he went on, solilet k I)L 2!
but rno-it frequently winning -I' ial the morning ias gone. At last, ON, he nced to w;n t icc run.' -n-,
h ir, -,-If ns- faster of three I)al,: "IC '-I U'd Oav ro morc,. TI e
Y or he
r and L 2'-, h

farthing tbe P
IT, rot as :I,-,
rot' 1'-- C o:'-, either.' Sa, down to c 1- It!
'I the
hilEt he cat, lh
"I 'COW the Stable-bo,

frightened and


ed him; for Lawrence, though a lazy, had not yet learned to be a zvicked boy. But, by degrees, he was accustomed to their swearing and quarrelling, and took a delight and interest in their disputes and battles. As this was an amusement which he could enjoy without any sort of exertion on his part, he soon grew so fond of it, that every day he returned to the stable-yard, and the horseblock become his constant seat. Here he found some relief from the insupportable fatigue of doing nothing, and here, hour after hour, with his elbows on his knees, and his head on his hands, he sat the spectator o wickedness. Gaming, cheating, and lying, suon became familiar to him; and, to com
ee his ruin, he formed a sudden and clos4 innimacy w ith t ble-boy with vl he: had first begun to g.a-a very I c The consequences o~this intim e shall prescantly see. But it is now inq ire rha 1ittde Jem has been s 1.
One day after he ha his ta-k,
the gardener asked him while
to heji hin to carry some era m o into the : alL Jem, ael ays active and c&ig ix;. read:ilv stayed from play, and was ca.
y i a heavy- wer pot, whe his mi ee:: zro: ed the hol. What a e' 'i 1)



te-r!' said she,'I you aremkiger w dqcn't you wipe your shocs upon the mi-at jem turned round to look for the mat, hesaw none., I Oh,' said the lac Y, recolle ngherself,'I I can't blame yoeu, fourth no mat.'
INo rnam said the gntrJner,' o don't know when, if ever, the man vill; brii home those mats you bespoke, in'i.
II am very sorry to hear that,2 said t lady,'I I wish we could find some L-dy w--N would do them, if he can't. I shouldI care what so rt of mats they were, so t one-- coul wiA- pe one's feet on them.'
Jem-i, as het ws-sweeping away the IEt
whnhhard theset last words, said to h ~ef,'pehasI could make a mat.' U all Nhe way h Uos he trudged' alo ng wli
-ir h- was thinking over ashm ma ,kin rg mnats, which, 'howe-ver bold ita
aper edid not despair of executing, I ptIetnce and( 1instrv. Many -te- the ficuis which his iV)~tceye' Isie esv btt he1 ftwithin hi mself that spiritr, w i 1pur I en on to) grr:t eterpr; es- and in,

e C 'tupIeo m ssblt


.Cnt shapes, and he thought that if he, C.i "'l fiid some way of plaiting heath fimlytoether, it would make a very pretty greet, ftmat, which would do very well1 for one, Swipe one's. shoes on. About a mlile fm his mother's house, on the common whi-'ch je1n rode ove-,r when he went to farmecr I rack's for the gMant-straw berfiis, 1he re;,,Isee to have seen a great quantity of
ths eth ; and, as itwas now only t 'Ck in the evening, he knew th-at he: sh~Jhave time to fieed Lihfosoe h:,Oto tl, comn, ret'n ndmk
4sta of his, skI heore hew ttbe

,non, andI there in gahee as : much

Lut whttiT, what tim-e, what pan It
riot hm, beore he couddmk thin
a miat! Twxentv tmus he was d to~ t3i aside the hea~th, and g ive upws r uj~ct, firon imlpatienCe ofreatd& pit owmnis, But still he pesjr_ ~ zhn
etcan Le tcomli-e s tot toli
adto.Two houish okd eoeh
b. etoed. All his pcvhwstenx
h tithsnt;nhhialaid


other five; he conquered his grand difficult tv of fastening the heath substantially tog other, and at length completely finished a mat which far surpassed his most sanguine ex pectations. He was extremely happy-sung danced round it-whistled-looked at it again and again, and could hardly leave of looking at it when it was time to go to bed ie laid it by his bed-side, that he migh see it the moment he awoke in the morning.
And now came the grand pleasure of carrying it to his mistress. She looked full as much surprised as he expected, when she saw it and when she heard who made it. After having duly admired it, she asked hia how much he expected for his mat.
Expect! nothing ma'am,' said Jernm; !I meon to give it you, if you'd hve kit ; I did ot mean to sell it. I made it at my play hour, and I was very happy making it and I'm very glad too that you like it; and if you please to keep it ma'am-that's ai.'
B that's not all,' said the lady ; spend youzr time no more in weeding in my garden 706 can employ yourself much better; yot shah have the reward of your ingenuit: as we L as f your industry. Make as m)y rmore such mats as you can, and I will tak care and dispose ef them tfor you


4 Thank'e, maam,' said Jem, making his best bow, for he thought by the lady's looks that she meant to do him a favour, though he repeated to himself, I dispose of them, what does that mean P
The next day he went to work to mak'e more mats, and he soon learned to make them so well and quickly, that he was surprised at his own success. In every one he inade he found less difficulty, so that instead of making two, he could soon make four, in a day. In a fortnight he made eighteen.
It was Saturday night when he finished, and he carried, at three journeys, his, eighteen mats to his mistress's house ; piled them all up in the hall, and stood with his bat off, with a look of proud humility, beside the pile, waiting for his mistress's appearance. Presently a folding door, at one end of the hall, opened, and he saw his mistress, with a great many gentlemen and ladies rising from several tables.
Oh! there is my little boy, and his mats,' cried the lady; and, followed by all the rest of the company, she came into the hall. Jem modestly retired whilst they looked at his mats ; but in a minute or two his mistress beckoned to him, and, when he D2


came into the middle of the circle, he sr that his pile of mats had disappeared.
Well,' said the lady smiling, what d you see that makes you look so surprised
'That all my mats are gone,' said Jem. but you aie very welcome.'
'Are -,ve said the lady; 'welltake tour hat, and go home then, for you se that it is getting late, and you know I Ligh foot will wonder what's become of you.'
Jem turned round to take up his ha which he had left on the floor. But ho his countenance changed the hat was hea vy with shillings. Every one who had ta ken a mat had put in two shillings; so tha for the eighteen mats he had got thirty-si shillings.
SThirty-six shillings !' said the lady five and seven-pence I think you told ;n you had earned already: how much doe that make? I must add I believe, one oth six-pence to make out your two guineas.'
'Two guineas !' exclaimed Jem, no quite conquering his bashfulness, for at t moment he forgot where he was, and sa nobody that was by. 'Two guineas!' cri ed he, clapping his hands together-' O Lightfoot !-oh mother! Then recollect ing him-nself, he saw his mistress, whom h


Iow looked up to quite as a friend. I Will thank them all,' said he, scarcely daring to glance his eye round upon the company, will you thank 'em, for you know I don't know how to thank 'emr rightly.' Every body thought, however, that they had been thanked rightly.
'Now we won't keep you any longer; only,' said his mistress, I have one thing to ask you; that I may be by when you shew your treasure to your mother.'
Come, then,' said Jem, come with me

Not now,' said the lady laughing, but I will come to Ashton to-morrow evening; perhaps your mother canr find me a few strawberries.'
SThat she will,' said Jem; I'll search the garden myself.' He now went home, but felt it a great restraint to wait till tomorrow evening before he told his mother. To console himself he flew to flthe stable : Lightfoot, you're not to be sold to-morrow! poor fellow!' said he, patting him, and then could not refrain from counting out his money. Whilst he was intent upon this, Jem was startled by a noise at the door: somebody was trying to pull up the latch. It opened, and there came in Lazy Law-


rence, with a boy in a red jacket, who ha a cock under his arm. They started whe they got into the middle of the stable, an wh n they saw Jem, who had been at fir hidden by the horse.
We-we-we came'-stammered Laz Lawrence-' I mean, I cam to-to-to
To ak you,' continued the stable-boy i a bold tone, whether you will go with us t the cock-fight on Monday? See, I've a fi cock here, and Lawrence told me you wer a great friend of his, so I came.'
Lawrence now attempted to say some
thing in praise of the pleasures of cock-fight g ing, and in recommendation of his new om panion. But Jem looked at the stable-bo with dislike, and a sort of dread; then turn ing his eyes upon the cock with a look o compassion, said in a low voice to Lawrence Shall you like to stand by and see its eye pecked out '
I don't know,' said Lawrence, as t that; but they say a cock-fight's a fine sight and it's no more cruel in me to go than an .t other; and a great many go; and Ive no thing else to do, so I shall go.' I
But I have som-thing else to do,' sa Jem, laughing, o I shall not go.'
But,' continued Lawrence, 'you kio


Monday is the great Bristol fair, and cne must be merry then, of all days in the Near.'
One day in the year, sure there's no harm in being merry,' said the stable-boy.
I hope not,' said Jem ; for I know, for mY part, I atn merry every day in the year.' That's very odd,' said Lawrence; 'but I know for my part, I would not for all the world miss going to the fair, for at least it will be something to talk of for half a year after. Come, you'll go, won't you? '
4 No,' said Jem, still looking as if he did not like to talk before the ill-looking straw, ger.
SThen what will you do with all yur
money ?'
I'll tell you about that another time,' vhispered Jem; 'and don't you go to see that cock's eyes pecked out; it won't make you merry, I'm sure.'
If I had any thing else to dirt mel' sId Lawrence, hesitating and yawrinr.
SConme' cried the stable-boy, seizig his stretching arm, come along,' cried he; ad, pulling him away from Jcm, upon v~ Febr he cast a look of extreme contempt, e l im alone, he's ro. the sort.'
6 hat a toi you are said he to Le rem h' + e moment he got him out of L -*



bie, vo might have known be wudi go-else we should soon have timdh out of his four and seven-ptnce. Bet came you to taut of four and sev en-peac I saw in the manger a hat full (f silver.'
Indeed !' exclaimed Lawrence,
s, indeed-but wydid yol. st
"A s hen we first got in? o, i hIi
to l)-eh~, ;n us all up.'
F-,~ s ashamed,' said? L~xe

Ashamd bt you must rot 'tl shame_ nov, You:are in for it, end I Th et ou of:yon owe us half a oxnre
e,and I must he paid oaih ;s
and et he oney somec how or ct
After acoe~d~ahle puse he ardie,
an~,ee fr i~h&Xinevr miss half a cr
Pa o ll tht s Je.

come to thtavfo orJ~ 'tuonv tat h ha ~xokedso hrd or4


can't go to the cock-tight, or the fair either, if you don't; and I tell ye we don't meal to steal it ; we'll pay it again on Monday ight.' Lawrence made no reply, and they parted without his coming to any deternuHere let us pause in our story-we are almost afraid to go on-the rest is very shocking-our little readers will shudder as they read. But it is better that they should know the truth, and see what the idle boy came to at last.
In the dead of the night Lawrence heard some body tap at his window. He knew ,wl who it was, for this was the sigal agreed upon between him and his wicked companion. He trembled at the thoughts of what he was about to do, and lay quite still, with his head under the bed-clothes, till he heard the second tap. Then he got up, dressed himself, and opened his window It Nas almost even with the ground. His companion said to him in a hollow voice, Are you ready i He made no answer, but got out of the window and followed. When he got to the stable, a black cloud w,- ja~t passing over the moon, and it wa 4uie dark.
\ere are you ? whispered Lawrence,


groping about,' where are you? pei S
I am here; give me your hand.'
Lawrence stretched out his hand. '
that your hand .' said the wicked boi Lawrence laid hold of him; 'how cold
Let us go back,' said Lawrence ;
is time. yet.'
It is no time to go back,' replied th
other opening the door; you've gone too fa now to back : 'and he pushed Lawrence int the stable. Have you found it ? TAk' care of the horse. Have you done ?-wha are you about. Make haste, I hear a noise, said the stable-boy, who watched at the'door
I am feeling for the half crown, but
can't find it.'
'Bring altogether.' He brought Jem'
broken fiower-pot, with all the mo ey in I to the door.
The black cloud was now passed over th
moon, and the light shone fall upon them, WhAt do we stand here for said th table-boy, snacing the flower-pot out 0t .aw'ence's trembiig hands, and pukd hni
away from the~ door.
Good God!' cried Lawrencewoa t a 1. You said 7r



CroNVn, and pay it back on Monday-you said I ou'd only take half a crown P
'!Iold your tongue,' replied the other walking on, deaf to all remonstrances-- if 1 am to be hanged ever, it shan't be for half a crowNl-Lawrence's blood ran cold in his veins, and he felt as if all his hair stood on end. Not another word passed. His accomplice carried off the money, and Lawrence crept with all the horrors of guilt upon him to his restless bed. All night he was starting from frightful dreams; or else, broad awake, he lay listening to every small noise, unable to stir, and scarcely daring to breathe; tormented by that most dreadful of all kinds of fear, that fear which is the constant companion of an evil conscience. He thought the morning would never come; but when it was (lay, when he heard the birds sing, and saw ev cry thing look cheerful as usual, he felt still more miserable. It was Sunday morning, and the bell rang for church. All the children of the village, dressed in their Sunday clothes, innocent and gay, and little Jem, the best and gayest amongst them, went flocking by his door to church.
Well, Lawrence,' said Jem, pulling his c he passed, and saw Lawrence lean-

LAZY LitE 7"''

~ng a~ ~ ~ lihi 's doo., wl ile x'cu Ior so bla-ck ~
cmsid Low.,rence, dur~z
',!Isy ha I look Hlaik :
Na'l then,' said J,:m, yoa 1L)kwh en-ou 'i no-w, if that will o vn 0,1', tune s pale as Pde elie Lawrence, riot kno-win what he said; and turned ar~la aNI v, hie dared not stand anoth-er look of jem's concIjj!Ious that guilt wivas writ-en in his face he shunned 'every eye. Ile would no) hai ve given the world to have thrown of tL!i load of guilt which lay upo n his mind ; h1 longed to follow Jern, to fall upon his knee-, and confess all;- dreading the incment-wh Jem should discover his loss, Law-rer c dared no)t stay at home, and not kno in what to do, or whel~re to go, he mechanicaJ hy went to his old haunt at the stable-yardJ anti lur ked thereabouts All day, with his acconplicre, w\ho tried in vain to quiet his f-ar and ralie his spirits, by talking of the- icx
days ockfht. It was agreedI, thiat a soon as the duhsk of the evening camre o, they shnouldl go together into a certain ionel
filand their divide their booty.
In the mean time Jern, when he retu-ind
from church, was very full of busine ss, 1


p 'rjug for 1C ( l 17,'-jti C 91 of
Iost ul L! de (l Ined hiS
iuothcr I id, i' ,I, 0 i :,, the
1.46CIA 111-1c, i, 1: n to
Search t1IC S"I"i b -rl W:jv, niv
J ho-, ; iii( rry you Li-e t-) ( .i% is
nioulcr Wh-n he cat-ne in XVI u L ;C ;tl,,Mleryies, and was jumping aboit y' t
filly. 'Now kecpthosespiiiv cfyoids, J 1111 till'You want 'em, and don't ici, it cunx Up,-,n vou all at once. Have it in mind that
io -iiioyrow's Lir day, and 111 -'1-1
I bid farmer Truck call for !-,"m to P, 1,t ; he said ht'd take h-i i i0i
his own, and he'll be he.-e J, St mid
ItLm 1 now how it will 1)c ivi'l-I VG"', 'T I
So do I cried
secret with great -(;flF1, Ll t a3iLl tiiinhiiiig head over heeis I'Uur un-, s i A
t,,rria--e passed the irid ,;w- ,' at
the ClOor. jtm rai. mt ; IL A is hl-s She came in smiling, mid,-,o(,n ma k dw o' l iveman smile too, by FrmslrI of every t,, ng in the hou B,, L e sl,.-l
however iri) fl, v Wl -]'C
deern,-,: the time, :IC PI'Uil-11 (_1
mes, and of iiiAate., Arial-r Ikl-. -t,,; ti i, i4Run, 1,:-- A 2',


' I hope it's our milk-woman vith crea for the lady.' No; it was farmer Trui come for Lightfoot. The old woman's coui tenance fell. Fetch him out, dear,' said sh turning to her son; but jem was gone;h flew out to the stable the moment he sa the flap of farmer Truck's great coat. S ye down fuarner ,' said the old woman, aft they had waited about five minutes in e pectation of Jem's return. You'd best s down, if the lady will give you leave; fo he'll not hurry himself back again. M boy's a fool, madam, about that there hors Trying to laugh, she added, I knew ho Lightibot and he would be loth enough t part-he won't bring him out tiUll the la minute; so do sit ye down, neighbour.'
The farmer had scarcely sat down, whe Jem, with a pale wild countenance, cam back. What's the matter ?' said his mis tress. God bless the boy !' said his mothe, looking at him quite frightened, whilst he tried to speak, but could not. She went up to him, and then leaning his head against her, he cried, It's gone !-it's all gone ind, bursting into tears, he sobbed as if hi little heart would break.
What's gone, love?' said his mother.


c 31y two guineas-Lightfoot's two guineas. I went to fetch'em to give you, mam,my! but the broken flower-pot that I put thlm in, and all's gone !-quite gone!' repeated he, checking his sobs. I saw them safe last night,and was shewing 'em toLightfoot; and I was so glad to think I had earned tem all myself ; and I thought how surprised you'd look, and how glad you'q be, and how you'd kiss me, and all !'
His mother listened to him with the greatest surprise, whilst his mistress stood in silence, looking first at the old woman, and then at Jem, with a penetrating eye, as if she suspected the truth of his story, and was afraid of becoming the dupe of her own compassion. 'This is a very strange thing!' said she gravely. How came you to leave all your money in a broken flower-pot in the stable? How came you not to give it to your mother to take care of ?'
SWhy don't you remember,' said Jem, looking up in the midst of his tears; why, don't you remember you your own self bid me not tell her about it till you were by ?'
And did you not tell her?'
Nay, ask mammy,' said Jem, a little offended; and, when afterwards the lady went


on questioning him in a severe manner, as she did not believe him, he at last made answer.
Oh, Jem! Jem! why don't you speak to the lady? said his mother.
I have spoke, and spoke the truth," sai Jem, proudly, I and she did not believ mie.) Still the lady, who had lived too long in th world to be without suspicion, maintained 1 a cold manner, and determined to wait th event without interfering, saying only, th she hoped the money would be found; and advised Jem to have done crying.
I have done,' said Jem,' I shall cry n more.'
And as he had the greatest comman over himself, he actually did not shed ano ther tear, not even when the farmer got u to go, saying, he could wait no longer. Je silently went to bring out Lightfoot. Th lady now took her seat where she could se a;1 that passed at the open parlour window The old woman stood at the door and several idle people of the village who had gathered round the lady's carriage examining it turned about to listen. In a minute or two jem appeared, with a steady countenance leading Lightfoot; and when he came u p


without saying a wrrd, put the bridle into farmer Truck's hand.
He has been a good horse,' said the farIner.
He is a good horse!' cried Jem, and threw his arm over Lightfoot's neck, hiding his own face as he leaned upon him.
At this instant a party of milkwomen went by ; and one of them having set down her pail, came behind Jem, and gave him a pretty smart blow upon the back.-He looked

P. And don't you know me?' said she.
'I forget,' said Jem; 'I think I have seen your face before, but I forget.'
Do you so ? and you'll tell me just now,' said she half opening her hand, that you forget who gave you this, and who charged you not to part with it too.' Here she quite opened her large hand, and on the palm of it appeared Jem's silver penny.
,,Vhere exclaimed Jem, seizing it, I oh where did you find it? and have you-oh tell me, have you got the rest of my money?'
I don't know nothing of your moneyvI don't know what you would be at,' aid the milkwoman,
I But, where, pray tell me, where did you find this ?'


With them that you gave it to, Is1 pose,' said the milkwoman, turning awv suddenly to take up her milk-pail. But no Jem's mistress called to her through t window, begging her to stop, and joining I his entreaties to know how she came by t r silver penni.
Why, madam,' said she, taking up th corner of her apron, I came by it in an od way too. You must know my Betty is sic a
so I come with the milk myself, though it not what I'm used to; for my Betty-yo C
know my Betty,' said she turning round t the old woman, my Betty serves you, she's a tight and stirring lassy, ma'am, I c assure '
Yes, I don't doubt it,' said the lady i patiently; but about the silver penny ?'
Why that's true; as I was coming alo
all alone, for the rest came a round, and came a short cut across yon field-No, y P can't see it, madam, where you stand; but ti you were here-' a
I see it-I know it,' said Jem, out
breath w ith anxiety.
Well-well-I rested my pail upon th stile, and sets me down awhile, and the comes out of the hedge-I don't know we how, for they startled me o I'd like to ha


thrown down my milk-two boys, one about the size of he,' said she pointing to Jem, and one a matter taller, but ill-looking like, so I did not think to stir to make way for them, and they were like in alesperate hurry; so, without waiting for the stile, one of n pulled at the gate, and wv it would not open (for it was tied with a7.etty stout cord) one of 'em whips out with his knife and cuts it
Now have you a knife about you, sir ?' continued the milk-woman to the farmer. lie gave her his knife.
SHere now ma'am, just sticking as it were here, between the blade and the haft, was the silver penny. He took no notice, but when he opened it, out it falls; still he takes no heed, but cuts the cord as I said before, and through the gate they went, and out of sight in half a minute. I picks up the penny, for my heart misgave me thabit was the very one husband had had a long jneand had given against my voice to he,' pointing to Jem; and I charged him not to part with it; and, ma'am, w-hen I 101k8d I knew it by the mark, so I thought I would shew it to be.' again pointing to Jemn, 'and let him give it back to those it belongs to.'


It b,1,i7i1--; il--) u-., iaid jem, tiel gav- it tf)
E:il cr! those bo i 11
robbed i,,;m. i v4 lio hav e all 11 I'S

Odd t1ley go?' c
tl,,e ladly, call- to an(' him to t, kc

d TYLICk, de
t, tile a-y, a, 3
vZil have 'eru
ti,-Y -ere goric m.pur,-i, of t1hi, tacly who was c,--, lq

WITAL she 1-,:td
I t I v ith him that evtn'- .
ofti-, b ;;,Lofthe carria.-c the cc ,c-,,, naii Tlltldi, f ..- pnoduceda new saddle an,1L !)ci
J,2 i-,'s ey -s sparkled when s
wa3-thrown upon Lightfoot's back I tb
it ') i -(-)ur horse yourself, jem,' ,L"J the PU 6 it is yours'.) ho
C aftnied reports of Uglitfoot's to
accoltr ments, of the jju surt of -,,micl 101
:ci l cld tl- fine.and generous la-ly N% h(-) W' ge stti-V11.-, at darne Preston's w'-i -A- ouicl-3prcaj t1irough the vii1aZe,' and cli w, c-


fr'on their houses. They crowded ronId Jen to hear the story. The children a,,ciayli, who were all fond of him, ex, 0 dthe strongest indignation against the ; eves. Every eye sv as on the stretch; aud now some, who had run dow n the lane, cae back shouting, 'here thyg they've
g the thieves !' W
The footman on horseback carried one ,v before him ; and the farmer, striding
-agged anther. 'I he latter bad on a red jacket, which little Je At this instant there was a disturbagg In the crowd. A man who was half drunk pushed his way forwards, swearing uhat no body should stop him ; that he had a right to see ; and he wou/d see. And so he did; for, forcing through all resistance, he staggered u to the footman just as he was 1iftin down the boy he had carried before 1h. Imil-I tell you I will see the thief!


cried the drunken man, pushing up the hat. It was his own son. Lawrec exclaimed the wretched father. The sh sobered him at once, and he hid hi* facL his hands.
There was an awful silence. Lawre fell on higee, and in a voice that co scarcely beard, made a full confession all the circumstances of his guilt.
'Such a young creature so wicked! W could put such wickedness into your hea
'Bad company,' said Lawrence.
And how came you-what brought.. into bad company ? '
I dont know except it was idleness.'
While this was saving, the farmer emptying Lazy Lawrence's pockets; when the money appeared, all his fo C
companions in the village looked at other with astonishment and terror. T parent grasped their little hands closer, cried, Thank God! he is not my sonoften, when he was little, we used as lounged about, to tell him that idleness b the root of all evil.'
As for the hardened wretch his acc
jplice every one was impatient to have sntto gaol. He had put on a old, i ti
lent countenance, till he heard La wre


confession; till the money was found upon him; and he heard the milk-woman declare, that she would swear to the silver penny which he had dropped. Then he turned pale, and betrayed the strongest signs of fear.
4 We must take him before l usice,' yidt the farmer, 'and he'll h lodged in l3ristol gaol.'
'Oh!' said Jem, springing forwards when Lawrence's hands were going to be tied, let him go-won't you-can't you let him go ?
4 Yes, madam, for mercy's sake,' said Jem's mother to the lady, 'think what a disgrace to his family to be sent to gaol.'
His father stood by, wringing his hands in an agony of despair. It's all my fault,' cried he : I brought him up in idleness.'
But, he'll never be idle any more,' said Jem; won't you speak for him, ma'am ? '
Don't ask the lady to speak for him,' said the farmer; it's better he should go to bridewell now, than to the gallows by and by.'
Nothing more was said, for every body felt the truth of the farmer's speech. L~arence was sent to bridewell for a month, and the stable-boy was transported to Botany Bay.


During Lawrence's confinement, Teu ten visited hin, ad card hill such I presents as he couldI Miord, to give; Jem could afford to be genci ouis because was ;ndustriozis. Lawr ence's heart touched by hI 's lrinudinss, cd his exa 1 struck hini orcibix, fat, when his finemnent -; cndeUJ he resolved to set mediately to work,; and, to the astons mea.t of ail who knew him, soonr became marka frx i'"Justc'y ; h va mfOund ec and it oaestablished a new cha, ter, and. ,Lr ever lost the name of Lawrence.




YOUNG Hardy was educated by Mr. Freeman, a very good master, at one of th Sunday schools in shire. He was hencst, obedient, active, and good-natured; that he was esteemed and beloved by his master, and by his companions. Beloved by a11l his companions who were good, he 4ic not desire to be loved by the bad ; nor as he at all vexed or ashamed, when idle, mis cievous, or dishonest boys attempted to p,_age or ridicule him. His friend Loveit, on the contrary wished to be universally liked; and his highest ambition was to be thought the best natured boyin the school:and so he was. He usually went by th.e name of /,r Loveit, and every body pitied him when he got into disgrace, which he frequently did; for though he had a good d isposition, he was often led to do things, which he knew to be wrong, merely because he could never have the courage to sa ,o ; be



cause he was afraid to offend the ill-nature and could not bear to be laughed at by foo
One fine autumn evening, all the b were permitted to go out to play in a p1 sant green meadow near the school. Love and another boy called Tarlion, be :a play a gani at battledore and shuttecoc and a large party stood by to look on ; they were the best players at battledore a shutdecock in the school, and this was a r of skill between them. When they
kpt i up to three hundred and twenty, t game became very interesting: the anrus the combatants grew so tired, that they cou scarceV wield the battledores:-the sihut cock began to waver in the air ; now it most touched the ground, and now, to th astonishment of the spectators, mounted. gain high over their heads ; vet the stroke became feebler and feebler; and 'no Loveit!' now Tarlton !' resounded all sides. For another minute the vic-t was doubtful ; but at length, the setting Su shining fall in L:oveit's face, so dazzled eyes, that he could no longer see the shu :ec'ock, and it fell at his feet.
Aftxr the first shoutforTarlton's trim was over, every body exclaimed, 'Po Loveit !-he's the best natured fellw .


the world what a pity that he did not stand with his back to the sun.'
'Now I dare you all to play another game with me,' cried Tarlton, vauntinglv; and as he spoke, he tossed the shuttlecock up with all his force: with so much force, that it went over the hedge, and dropped into a lane, which went close behind the field. Hey-day!' said Tarlton, what shall we do now?'.
The boys were strictly forbidden to go into the lane; and it was upon their promise not to break this command, that they were allowed to play in the adjoining field.
No other shuttlecock was to be had, and their play was stopped. They stood on the top of the bank peeping over the hedge. I see it yonder,' said Tarlton ; I I wish any body would get it. One could get over the gate at the bottom of the field, and be back again in half a minute,' added he, looking at Loveit.
But you know we must not go into the lane,' said Loveit, hesitatingly.
'ugh!' aid Tarlton, 'w hy now what harm could it do ?'
'I don't know,' said Loveit, drumming upon his battledore ; 'but-' r2


You don't know, man! why then w are you afraid of ? I ask you.'
Loveit coloured, went on drumming, an again, in a lower voice, said he dil ~hwnozw.' But upon Tarlton's repeating, i b more insolent tone, I ask you, man, w you're afraid of ?' he suddenly left off dru ruing, and looking round, said, he was a 1 afraid of any thing that he knew of.'
Yes, but you are,' said Hardy, comic c
f forward. a
Am I,' said Loveit; 'of what, pray, a I afraid ? '
Of doing wrong !' s
'Afraid ,f doing wrongg' repeated Tal t ton mimicking him, so that he made eve body laugh. Now hadn't you better sa afraid of being flogged?' v
No,' said Htardy, coolly, after the lan g
had somewhat subsided, I am as II I
afraid of being flogged as you are, Tarlto t but I meant-'
No matter what you meant; why shou
xyou interfere with your wisdom, and j meanings; nobody thought of asking y.c stir a step for us; but we asked Loveit, cause he's the best fellow in the world.'
And for that very reason you shou t
not ask him, because you know he can't r fuse you any thing.'


,Indeed though,' cried Loveit, piqued, 'there you're mistaken, for I could refuse it J chose it.'
Hardy smiled ; and Loveit, half afraid of his contempt, and half afraid of Tariton's ridicule, stood doubtful, and again had recourse to his battledore, which he balanced most curiously upon his forefinger.
Look at him !-now do look at him!' cried Tarlton ; did you ever in your life see any body look so silly! Hardy has him quite under thumb ; he's so moralv afraid of Parson Prig, that he dare not, for the soul of him, turn either of his eyes from the tip of his nose ; look how he squints !'
'1 don't squint,' said Loveit, looking up, Land nobody has me under his thumb ; and what Hardy said, was only for fear I should get into disgrace : he's the best friend I have.' Loveit spoke this with more than usual spirit, for both his heart and his pride were touched.
,Come along then,' said Hardy, taking him by the arm in an affectionate manner ; and he was just going, when Tarlton called after him' Ay, go along with its best friend, and take care it does iot get into a scrape,: good by, Little Panado!'


Who do they call Little Panado ?' s
Loveit, turning his head hastily back. I
'Never mind,' said Hardy, 'what d it signify ?'
No,' said Loveit, to be sure it d not: signify; but one does not like to called Little Panado: besides,' added after going a few steps farther, 'they a' think it so ill-natured.-I had better go back l and just tell them, that I'm sorry I ca I
get their shuttlecock ;-do come back wi

No,' said Hardy, I can't go back: you'd better not.'
But, I assure you, I won't stay a mnite e wait for me,' added Loveit ; and be su back again- to prove that he was no Litt I Panado. 01
Once returned, the restfollowed of cours ft for to support his character for good-natu hwvas obliged to yield to the entr eaties his companions, and to shewhis spirit, lea over the gate, amidst the acclamations of th little mob. He was quickly out of sight.
Here,' cried he, returning in about f a] minutes, quite out of breath, Fie got th shuttlecock; and FA tell you what FIve seen s cried he, panting for breath.
'What ?' cried every body, eager .b

e age,7


Why just at the turn of the corner, at the end of the lane-' panting.
SWell,' said Tariton, impatientlv, do go onl.
SLet me just tale breath first.'
SPugh! never inind your breath.
Well then, just at tle turn of the corner, at the end of the lane, as I was looking.. about for the shuttlecock, I heard a great rustling somewhere near me, and so I lc oked wheree it'could come from ; and I saw in a nice little garden, on the opposite side of the ,ay, a boy, about as big as Tariton, sit-ting in a great tree, shaking the branches ; and ar every shake down there came such a shower of fine large rosy apples, they made my mouth water: so I called to the boy, to beg one; but he said, he could not give me one, for that they were his grandi'aher's; and just at that minute, from behind a gooseerry bush, up popped the uncle---the grandfather poked his head out of the window; so I ran off as fast as my legs would carry me, though I heard him bawling after me all the way.'
I And let him bawl,' cried Tariton, he shan't bawl for nothing; I'm determined we'll have some of his fine large rosy apples before I sleep to-night.' At thi scch, a


geii,-,' 'Silence ensu,,fd; everv bodv k" th, i r -ves fixed oron Tarlton, except LOW it, vvil") looked down, apprehensi, J a'
I L-- dr ivn on Touch farther
J!" s-aid he to I
1% 1 as Harc!- iold ne, I had btt,,n- It
rome !,,ack
'te *i bisgarditfss of-.- onf6sionjar,
IMI led, I Bi,,,t bc f : say any more, I li, Wt have rv) spic- st us. if th(!i----,
,17!-' One 01 YOU be.flogged" let Iii)
march off t!ils inc nt Lo% -A
bi- h; s lips, w;sh,, d to go, but ('()U
to, nacive first. He tv:,1-1-1 t(t wh ti
c-, r y bociv els, Would do;-P Iirc
so Lovelt s,,(Ycj st;II.
50;ell t7*v -' cried Tarlton, -I 1,
to tne bov !,C%'L h-i-n, ,hen to tll t r-.e
and L --on won't !- I
I'll stand I-Y
C A, and hi p i -)' .s,
and I"' I
I-, k tilt th 1,t- 'M c e button of i
-r 'him, when Tat it 0 1 'I In
un, I(o !!,):- out his hand, I Come, !,(,vel lacl, in for it: stand by me, and- F L
i ,I hv Vail." 01


Indeed Tariton,' expostulated he, with out looking him in the face, I do wish you'd gite up this scheme; I dare say all the aples are gone by this time;--I wish you wrould-do, pray give up this scheme.'
SWhat scheme, man! on hav'n't heard it yet; you may as well know your text be fore you begin preaching." The corners of Loveit's mouth could not refuse to smile though in his heart he felt not the slightest inclination to laugh. Why I don't know you, I declare I don't know you to-day,'said Tarlton ; you used to be the best natured, moat agreeable lad in the world, and would do any thing one asked you; but you're quite altered of late, as we were saying ust now, when you skulked away with ,Hardy: come; do man, pluck up a little spirit, and be one of us, or you'll make us all hate you.'
SHate me!' repeated Loveit, with terror; no, surely, you won't all hate me! and he mechanically stretched out his hand which Tarlton shook violently, saying, Ay, iow, that's right.'
'Ay, now, that's wrong! whispered Loveit's conscience; but his consence was of no use to him, for it was always overpowered by the voice of numbers; and


though he bad the wish, he never had power to do right. Poor I ku he would not refuse us? cried his conpa ons; and even A iton, the neit he sh t
hands with him, despiw-d hi is crt e that weakness of mid is despised both the good and by the bad.
The league being thus former, Tarl b
ass : all the airs of a commander, plaine:a 1. s, and laid the plan of tack upon the poor old man's pletr It wan the only one he bad in the woril We shall not dwell upon their conos! Ao for the aeent of cantx di-ons is oft~ Li~n .ic d
idle boys to in them.
There was a small window at the end the back staircase, through which, bet nine and ten o'clock at night, Tarlton, companied by L 'vei- ft a. notber boy, cr n out. It was a moonlight night, and, af crossing; the field, and climbing the gate, a erected by Loveilt, vvho now resolved to through the affair with spirit, they proceed a ed down the lane with rash, yet fearful St At a distance Loveit saw the white-wast cottage, and the apple-tree beside it: sl
;oickcned their pace, and with some 7
cult' scrambled through the hedge wa b


enced the garden, though not without being scratched and torn by the briars. Every thing was silent. Yet now and then at every rustling of the leaves they started, and their hearts beat violently. Once as Loveit was climbing the apple-tree, he thought he heard a door in the cottage open, and earnestly begged his companions to desist and return home. This however he could by no means persuade them to do, until they had filled their pockets with apples ; then, to his great joy, they returned, crept in at the staircase viadow, and each retired, as softly as possible, to his own apartment. J.oveit slept in the room with Hardy, l om he had left fast asleep, and whom he now was extremely afraid of wakening. AlI the apples were emptied out of Loveit's pockets, and lodged with Tarlton till the morning, for fear the smell should betray the secret to Hardy. The room door was apt to creak, but it was opened with such precaution, that no noise could be heard, and Loveit found his fi-end as fast asleep as when he left him.
Ab,' said he to himself, Ihow quietly he sleeps! I wish I had been sleeping too.' The reproaches of Loveit's conscience, however, served no other purpose but to


torment him; he had not sufficient stren of mind to be good. The very next ni in spite of all his fears, and all his penite and all his resolutions, by a little fresh 0 cule and persuasion he was induced to company the same party on a similar ex dition. We must observe, that the nece ty for continuing their depredations becal stronger the third day; for though at fiha only a small party had been in the secret, t1o degrees it was divulged to the whole sch and it was necessary to secure secresy ra
sharing the booty. le
Every one was astonished that Had
with all his quickness and penetration, h not yet discovered their proceedings; ha
Loveit could not help suspecting, that ha
was not quite so ignorant as he appeared be. Loveit had strictly kept his promise secresy, but he was by no means an ar boy; and in talking to his friend, conscio go that he had something to conceal, he w L
perpetually on the point of betraying hi self; then recollecting his engagement, t
blushed, stammered, bungled; and u to
Hardy's asking what he meant, would li
swer with a silly guilty countenance, that h hi did not know; or abruptly break off, saying
* Oh nothing! nothing at all !'


It was in vain that he urged Tarlton to perohit him to ccn, t his friend; a gloom overspread Tarlton's brow when he began to speak on the subject, and he always returned a peremptory refusal, accompanied with some Such taunting expression as this---' I wish we had noth1 to do with such a sneaking fellow. He'l betray us all, I see, before we have done with him- Well,' said Loveit t, himself, I so I am abused after all, and called a sneaking fellow for my pains; that's rather hard to be sure, when I've got so little by the job.'
In truth he had not got much, for in the division of the booty only one apple, and a half of another which was only half ripe, happened to fall to his share; though, to he sare, when they had all eaten their apples, he had the satisfaction to hear every body declare they were very sorry they hd forgotten to offer some of theirs to 'poor Loveit.! '
In the mean time the visits to the apple tree had been now too frequently repe,-trd to remain concealed frcm dhe old man, who lived in the cottage. He used to examine his only tree very frequently, and missing numbers of rosy apples which he had watcaedripening, he, though not much prone to


suspicion, began to thin th something going wrong; espl was made in his hedge, nd there veral small footsteps in his flower
The good old man was not at d to give pain to any living creature to children, of whom he was fond. Nor was he in the least a for though he was not rich, he d to live upon, because he had been dustrious in his yot:11; and he w very ready to part with the litt nor was he a cross old man. if would have made him angry, it w been the seeing his favourite tree r he had promised himself the I giving his red apples to his grand on his birth-day. However he look the tree in sorrow rather than in leaning upon his staff, he began to what he had best do.
If I complain to their master,' sa himself, they will certainly be flog that I should be sorry for; yet the not he let to go on stealing, that w worse still, for that would surely bri to the gallows in the end. Let me s ay, th: will do; I will borrow farm er


dog Barker, he'll keep them off, I'll answer for it.'
Farmer Kent lent his dog Barker, cautioning his neighbour at the same time, to be ure to chain him well, for he was the fiercest mastiff in England. The old man, with farmer Kent's assistance, chained him fast to the trunk of the apple-tree.
Night came; and Tarlton, Loveit, and his companions returned at the usual hour. Grown bolder now by frequent success, they came on talking and laughing. But the moment they had set their foot in the garden, the dog started up; and shaking his chain as he sprang forward, barked with unremitting fury. They stood still as if fixedI to the spot. There was just moonlight enough to see the dog. Let us try the other side of the tree,' said Tarlton. But to which ever side they turned, the dog flew round in an instant, barking with increased fury.
He'll break his chain and tear us to pieces,' cried Tarlton; and struck with terror, he immediately threw down the basket he had brought with him, and betook himself to flight with the greatest precipitation.
Help me! oh, pray, help me! I can't get through the hedge,' cried Loveit in a G2


lamentable tone, whilst the dog growled deously, and sprang forward to the ex mity of his chain.-' I can't get out for God's sake, stay for me one minutes Tarton!'
He called in vain, he was left to stru through his difficulties by himself; an all his dear friends, not one turned hak help him. At last, torn and terrified, h through the hedge, and ran home, des his companions for their selfishness. could he help observing, that Tarlton, all his vaunted prowess, was the first to away from the appearance of danger. I next morning he could not help reproach the party with their conduct.
Why could not you, any of you, stay minute to help me?' said he.
W'e did not hea" you call,' answered o I was so frightened,' said another, Would not have turned back for the w world.'
Andyou, Tarlton ?
J aid Tariton ; had not I enoug do to take care of myself, you block Ie Every one for himself in this world!' i
'So I see,' said Loveit, gravely.
We an! is there any thing stran
i i that ?


SStrange! why yes, I thought you all loved me?'
Lord, love you, lad so we do; but we love ourselves better.'
Hardy would not have served me so, however,' said Loveit, turning away in disgust.
Tarlton was alarmed. I Pugh!' said he, what nonsense have you taken into yo ur brain? Think no more about it. We are all very sorry. and beg your pardon; come, shake hands, forgive and forget.'
Loveit gave his hand, but gave if rather coldly. 'I forgive it with all nmy heart,' said he, 'but I cannot forget it so soon .
Why th you are not such a good hunioured fellow as we thought you were. Surely you cannot bear malice, Loveit?'
Loveit smiled, and allowed that he certainlv could not bear malice.
Well then, come; you know at the hottom we all love you, and would do any thing in the world for you.' Poor Loveikfattery ed in his foible, began to believ thatfy did love him at the bottom, as they said, and even with his eyes open consented aain to be duped.
How strange it is,' thought he, th 1 hould set such value upon the love othose

d' C? :2 ;v .,;


I despise! When I'm onceout of this sc I'll have no more to do with them, I'm4 termined.'
Compared with his friend Hardy, hisn associates did indeed appear contemptible for all this time Hardy had treated him uniform kindness, avoided to pry into secrets, yet seemed ready to receive his c fidence, if it had been offered.
After school in the evening, as he standing silently beside Hardy, who was ing a sheet of paper for him, Tarlton, in I brutal manner came tip, and seizing h( by the am, cried, Come along with Loveit, I've something to say to you.'
I can't come now,' said Loveit, dra away his arm.
'Ah, do come now.' said Tarlton voice of persuasion.
Well, I'll come presently.'
'nay, but do, pray; there's a good fell come now, because I've something to say you.'
'What is it you've got to say to me wish you'd let me alone, said Loveit; yets the same time he suffered himself to be I away.
Tarlton took particular pains to humro him and bring him into temper again:a


even though he was not very apt to part with his play-things, went so far ais to say) Loveit, the other day youi wanted a top; 111 give you mine, if you desire it.'
Loveit thanked him, and was overjoyed at the thoughts of possessing this top.
S But what did you want to say to me just

SAye, we'll talk of that presnty-not ,et-when we get out ofhearg?
Nobody is near us,' said Lovet .
Come a little farther however,' said farlton, looking round suspiciously. SWell now, well?' You know the dog that frightened us so last night
SIt will never frighien us again.'
Won't it ? How so?'
Look here,' said Tarlton, drawing frinom his pocket something wrapped in a blue handkerchief.
SWhat's that? Tarn pened it. Raw meat!' exclaimed LovI ow came you
by it?'
Tom, the servant boy Tom for
me, and I'm to give him six-pence 'And is it for the dog


'Yes; I vowed I'd be revenged on hi and after all this he'll never bark again.'
Never bark again! What do you mea Is it poison i' exclaimed Loveit, start back with horror.
Only poison for a dog,' said Tarlto confused; you could not look more sho ing if it was poison for a Christian.'
Loveit stood for nearly a minute in p found silence. Tariton,' said he, at tI in a changed tone and altered manner, did not know you; I will have no more do with you.'
Nay, but stay,' said Tarlton, catch hold of his arm, 'stay; I was only joking
Let go my arm, you were in earnest.' But then that was before I knew th was any harm. If you thing there's harm-'
If!' said Loveit.
'Why you know, I might not know; Tom told mnie it's a thing that's often done ask Tom.'
'I'll ask nobody! Surely we know bet what's right and wrcng than Tom does.'
But only just ask him, to hear what he say.'
I don't want to hear what he'll say,' c ed Loveit1 vehemently. 'The dog will d


in Vgonies-in horrid agonies! There was a dog poisoned at my father's, I saw him in the yard. Poor creature! he lay, and howled, and writhed himself--' Poor creature Well, there's no harm done now,' cried Tarlton, in an hypocritical tone. But though he thought fit to dissemble with Loveit, he was thoroughly deterrmined in his purpose.
Poor Loveit, in haste to get away, returned to his friend Hardy; but his mind Vas in such agitation, that he neither talked por moved like himself; and two or three times his heart was so full that he was ready to burst into tears.
'How good-natured you are to me,' said he to Hardy, as he was trying vainly to entertain him; but if you knew-' Here he ,topped short, for the bell for evening prayer rang, and they all took their places, and knelt down. After prayers, as they were going to bed, Loveit stopped Tarlton,IVell!' asked he, in an inquiring manner, ixing his eyes upon him;-' Well!' replied Tarlton in an audacious tone, as if he meant to set his inquiring eye at defiance. What do you mean to do to-night ?' 'To go sleep, as you do, I suppose,' replied Tarlton, turning away abruptly and iyhis'ing as he walked off.


Oh, he has certainly changed his mi said Loveit to himself, else he could whistle.' About ten minutes after this he and Hardy were undressing, HardV denly recollected that he had left his kite out upon the grass. Oh,' said he
-will be quite spoiled before morning '
Call Tom,' said Loveit, and bid bring it in for you in a minute.' rhey I went to the top of the stairs to call Tom one answered. They called again lo is Tom below?'
I'm here,' answered he at last, co out of Tariton's room with a look of mi embarrassment and effrontery. And was receiving Hardy's commission, Lo saw the corner of the blue handker hanging out of his pocket. This e fresh suspicions in Loveit's mind; but, out saying one word, he immediately oned himself at the window in his r which looked out towards the lane; the moon was risen, he could see if any passed that way.
'What are you doing there?' said H after he had been watching some time; don't you come to bed?'
Loveit returned no answer, but contf standing at the window. Nor did he


long in vain; presently he saw Torn gliding slo-ly along a by-path, and get over the gate into the lane.
He's gone to do it!' exclined Loveit aloud, with an emotion which he could not cotmnand.
Who's gone ? to do what ?' cried HardV, starting up,
I How cruel! how wicked!' continued Loveit.
What's cruel? what's wicked ? speak out at once !' returned Hardy, in that commanding tone, which, in moments of danger, strong minds feel themselves entitled to assume towards weak ones. Loveit instantly, though in an incoherent manner, explained the affair to him. Scarcely had the words passed his lips, when Hardy sprang up, and began dressing himself without saying one syllable.
For God's sake, what are you going to do?' said Loveit in great anxiety. 'They'll never forgive me! don't betray me! they'll never forgive me! pray speak to me! only say you won't betray us!'
I will not betray you, trust to me,' said Hardy; and he left the room, and Loveit stood in amazement: whilst, in the mean time, Hardy, in hopes of overtaking Tom


before the fate of the poor dog was decic ran with all possible speed across the i dow, and then down the lane. He came with Tom just as he was climbing the into the old man's garden. Hardy, toont out of breath to speak, seized hold of h dragged him down, detaining him with a grasp whilst he panted for utteranceWhat, master Hardy, is it you? wh the matter ? what do you want?'
II want the poisoned meat that -you h in your pocket.'
Who told you that I had any such thin said Tom, clapping his hand upon his gui pocket.
'Give it me quietly, and I'll let you 0
Sir, upon my word I haven't! I didI don't know what you mean,' said T trembling, though he was by far the stron est of the two; indeed I don't know you mean.'
You do,' said Hardy, with great indig tion, and a violent struggle immediately co menaced. The dog, now alarmed by voices, began to bark outrageously. was terrified lest the old man should c out to see what was the matter ; his stre forsook him, and flinging the handkerct' and meat over the hedge, he ran away


aPli peel. The handkerchief fel witin ,e reach of the dog, who instantly snapped 'a a t t; luckily it did not come untiecd. Hardv saw a pitchfork on a dunghill close beside him, and seizing upon it, stuck it into the handkerchief. The dog pulled, tore, growledI, grappled yelled; it was imnpossible to get the handkerchief from between his teeth; but the knot was loosed, the meat uinperccived by the dog dropped out, and while hedragged off the handkerchief in triumph, Hlardy with inexpressible joy plunged the pitchfork into the poisoned meat, and bore it ,,ll-fa
Never did hero retire with more satisfaction from a field of battle. Full of the pleasure of successful benevolence, Hardy tripped Joyfully home, and vaulted over the window-sill, when the first object he beheld was Mr. Power, the usher, standing at the head of the stairs, with a candle in his hand.
Come up, whoever you are,' said ir. William Power, in a stern voice; I thought I should find you out at last. Come up, whoever you are!' Hardy obeyed without reply. Hardy!' exclaimed Mr. Power, starting back with astonishment; is it vo Mr. Hardy repeated he, holding the li gt tohis face. Why, sir,' said he in a sne-


ing tone, 'I'm sure if Mr. Trueman here, he wouldn't believe his own eyes; for my part, I saw through you long si I never liked saints for my share. Will please to do me the favour, sir, if it isA too much trouble, to empty your pocket Hardy obeyed in silence.
'Hey day! meat! raw meat what ne
'That's all,' said Hardy, emptyingi pockets inside out.
'This is all,' said Mr, Power, takin the meat.
I Pray sir,' said Hardy, eagerly, I let meat be burned, it is poisoned.'
I Poisoned!' cried Ir. William P0 letting it drop out of his fingers ; wretch!' looking at him with a mena air, I what is all this ? speak I' Hardy ws lent. I Why don't you speak' I cried shaking him by the shoulder impatien Still Hardy was silent. I Down upon y knees this minute, and confess all, tell where you've been, what you've been dol and wh~o are your accomplices, for I ki there is a gang of you: so,' added he, pr ing heavily upon Hardy's shoulder, '0do) upon your knees this minute, and con the whole, that's your only way now to off yourself. If you hope for viV pardo.,


can tell you it's not to be had without asking fO Sir,' said Hardy in a firm, but respectful voice,' I have no pardon to ask, I have nothing to confess, I am innocent; but if I were not, I would never try to get off myself by betraying my companions.'
Very well, sir very well! very fine! stict- to it, stick to it, I advise you-and we shall see. And how will you look to morroWy, Mr. Innocent, when my uncle the Doctor comes home?'
As I do now sir,' said Hardy, unmoved. J-Iis composure threw Mr. Power into a rage too great for utterance. 'Sir,' continued Hardy, Iever since I have been at school, I never told a lie, and tlaerefore, sir, I hope you will believe me now. Upon my word. and honor, sir, I have done nothing wrong.'
INothing wrong? Better and better! what, when I catched you going out at night?'
That to be sure was wrong,' said Hardy, recollecting himself ; but except that-'
IExcept that, sir! I will except nothing. Come along with me, young gentleman, your time for pardon is past.' Saying these words, he pulled Hardy along a narrow passage to at small Closet, set apart for desperate of-

TARLTONfenders, and usually known by the name the Black Hole. "There sir, take up y lodging there for to-night,' said he, pus him in; to-morrow I'll know more, or know why,' added he, double locking door, with a tremendous noise, upon his soner, and locking also the door at the of the passage, so that no one could h access to him.
So now I think I have you safe !' Mr. William Power to himself, stalking with steps which made the whole gallery sound, and which made many a guilty he tremble. The conversation which had sed between Hardy and Mr. Power at pt head of the stairs had been anxiously list ed to, but only a word or two here and the, had been distinctly overheard. The loc of the black hole door was a terrible so
-some knew not what it portended, others knew too well; all assembled in< t morning with faces of anxiety. Tarlto and Loveit's were the most agitated. Ti ton for himself ; Loveit for his friend, 1 himself, for every body. Every one of t party, and Tarlton at their head, surroundl him with reproaches and considered him the author of the evils which hung ov them. 'How could you do so? and whyd]


IO say any thing to Hardy abo,t it? when ou had promised too! Oh what shall we all do! what a scrape you have brought us into Loveit, it's all your fault !' 'All mn! fiilt!' repeated poor Loveit, with a sign; ,well that is hard.'
Goodness! there's the bell,' exclaimed a 0,mber of voices at once. Now for it!' They all stood in a half circle for morning prayers; they listened; Here he is coming No -Yes-Here he is!' And Mr. William power, with a gloomy brow, appeared, and walked up to his place at the head of the room. They knelt down to prayers, and the moment they rose, Mr. William Power, laying his hand upon the table, cried. Stand still, gentlemen, if you please.' Everv body stood stock still ; he walked out of the circle; they guessed that he wa3 gone for Hardy, and the whole room was in commotion. Each with eagerness asked each what none could answer, Has he tI!d? '' WitWhat has he told ? -' Who ha he told of?'--- I hope he has not told of me ?' cried they.
I I'll answer for it he has told of all of us,' said Tarlton.
And I'll answer for it he has told of ncne of us,' answered Loveit, with a sigh.


'You don't think he's such a fool, 'ne can get himself off,' said Tarlton.
At this instant the prisoner was led and as he passed through the circle, e eye was fixed upon him; his eye turned on no one, not even upon Loveit, who led him by the coat as he passed. Every felt almost afraid to breathe.
Well sir,' said Mr. Power, sitting in Mr. Trueman's elbow chair, and pla the prisoner opposite to him ; 'well sir, have you to say to me this morning '
Nothing, sir,' answered Hardy, in a cided yet modest manner; nothing what I said last night.'
'Nothing more?'
Nothing more, sir.'
'But I have something more to say you sir, then; and a great deal more promise you, before I have done with y and then seizing him in a fury, he was going to give him a severe flogging, i the school-room door opened, and Mr. T man appeared, followed byan old man wh Loveit immediately knew. He leaned u his stick as he walked, and in his other carried a basket of apples. When they c within the circle, Mr. Trueman stop, short. Hardy!' exclaimed he, with a vo


S-anfeigned surprise, whilst Mr. William power stood with his hand suspended. I Aye, Hardy, sir,' repeated he. I told him you'd hot believe your own eyes.' Mr. Truemnan advanced with a slow step. I Now sir, give me leave,' said the usher, eagerly drawing him aside and whispering. SSo, sir,' said Mr. T. when the whisper ,as done, addressing himself to Hardy with a voice and manner, which, had he been guilty, must have pierced him to the heart, I find I have been deceived in you. It is but three hours ago that I told your uncle I never had a boy in my school in whom I placed so much confidence; but, after all this show of honor and integrity, the moment my back is turned, you are the first to set an example of disobedience to my orders. Why do I talk of disobeying my commands, you are a thief!
I, sir !' exclaimed Hardy, no longer able to repress his feelings.
'You, sir! you and some others,' said Mr. Trueman, looking round the room with a penetrating glance-' you and some others-'
Aye, sir,' interrupted Mr. Wiliam Power,' get that out of him if you can-ask him.'


I will ask him nothing; I shall nel put his truth or his honor to the trial ; and honor are not to be expected amor' thieves.'
I am not a thief! I have never had thing to do with thieves,' cried Hardy, dignantly.
Have not you robbed this old m don't you know the taste of these apple said Mr. Trueman, taking one out of basket.
No sir, I do not ; I never touched bf that old man's apples.'
Never touched one of them! I supthis is some vile equivocation you h-, done worse, you have had the barbarity, baseness, to attempt to poison his dog;t poisoned meat was found in your pocket night.'
I The poisoned meat was found in pocket, sir, but I never attempted to po the dog, I saved his life,'
Lord bless him,' said the old man.
Nonsense cunning !' said Mr. Pov I hope you wort let him impose upon so Sir.'
'No, he cannot impose upon mte, I hay proof he is little prepared for,' said