e.

"Not quite yet, if you please," said Frederick.

"Come, say what you'll have, Fred! Take a pull at this 'ere old
Jamaky? The real critter, Fred, the real critter--none of your Boston
pisin stuff. Or what do you say to a double and twisted horn of brandy
what's jist come from France?"

Fred hesitated. Strange enough that he should hesitate. Was he
charmed, as a bird is said to be charmed by a black snake, so that he
could not move?

"It is time to be off, Fred. Take my advice, and come along," said
Samuel.

"You little chicken-hearted baby!" Peter broke in, "hold your tongue,
if you don't want it pulled out by the roots."

"Wait half a minute," said Frederick to his companion. "Peter, pray
don't talk so to Samuel. He is one of the best fellows that ever
lived."

"Well, he ain't worth minding, any how. Come, now, are you going to
drink or not? Take some punch? That's the stuff. There ain't no spirit
in it hardly. Or may be you'll have some gin."

And the butcher's boy poured out a glass half full of gin and water,
and passed it to Frederick, while he took good care to prepare another
glass for himself. Peter drank. _So did Frederick_--not because he
loved the liquor, but because he was good-natured. He did it to oblige
his former school-fellow. I said he did it because he was
good-natured. I ought rather to have said, perhaps, that it was
because he had not courage enough to do right. I am not sure but that
is a more correct reason than the other.

Poor Frederick! From the moment he drank that glass of gin, he felt
unhappy. All day long he thought of what he had done, and it robbed
him of all his peace.

"But never mind, Fred," said his companion, "you are sorry you did it,
and you will never drink any more. Let that comfort you."

I will drop the thread of Frederick's history here, for the present.
Perhaps I may take it up again, though, by and by. The reason I have
given any sketch at all of this boy's adventures, I frankly confess
it, is that by comparing him with Samuel, and noticing where he
stumbled, and how he stumbled, you might learn exactly what those
traits of character were by which the latter was able to get over the
difficulties he met with, and to resist the temptations that
surrounded him.

CHAP. XI.

LIFE IN A FACTORY.

Have you ever been inside of a cotton factory, reader? If so, you need
not be told what sort of a place it is. I remember very well how I
felt the first ti