nd then we did not want for clothes nor
victuals neither." Stock was melted almost to tears on finding that
this dirty beggar boy was Tommy Williams, the son of his old master.
He blessed God on comparing his own happy condition with that of
this poor destitute child, but he was not prouder at the comparison;
and while he was thankful for his own prosperity, he pitied the
helpless boy. "Where have you been living of late?" said he to him,
"for I understand you all went home to your mother's friends." "So
we did, sir," said the boy, "but they are grown tired of maintaining
us, because they said that mammy spent all the money which should
have gone to buy victuals for us, on snuff and drams. And so they
have sent us back to this place, which is daddy's parish."

"And where do you live here?" said Mr. Stock. "O, sir, we were all
put into the parish poor-house." "And does your mother do any thing
to help to maintain you?" "No, sir, for mammy says she was not
brought up to work like poor folks, and she would rather starve than
spin or knit; so she lies a-bed all the morning, and sends us about
to pick up what we can, a bit of victuals or a few half-pence." "And
have you any money in your pocket now?" "Yes, sir, I have got three
half-pence which I have begged to-day." "Then, as you were so very
hungry, how came you not to buy a roll at that baker's over the
way?" "Because, sir, I was going to lay it out in tea for mammy, for
I never lay out a farthing for myself. Indeed mammy says she _will_
have her tea twice a-day if we beg or starve for it." "Can you read,
my boy?" said Mr. Stock: "A little, sir, and say my prayers too."
"And can you say your catechism?" "I have almost forgotten it all,
sir, though I remember something about _honoring my father and
mother_, and that makes me still carry the half-pence home to mammy
instead of buying cakes." "Who taught you these good things?" "One
Jemmy Stock, sir, who was a parish 'prentice to my daddy. He taught
me one question out of the catechism every night, and always made me
say my prayers to him before I went to bed. He told me I should go
to the wicked place if I did not fear God, so I am still afraid to
tell lies like the other boys. Poor Jemmy gave me a piece of ginger
bread every time I learnt well; but I have no friend now; Jemmy was
very good to me, though mammy did nothing but beat him."

Mr. Stock was too much moved to carry on the discourse; he did not
make himself known