cle's
farmhouse, I am sure he will get you a new crutch. Pray, do try to go
there. I wish I was tall enough to carry you on my back.'

The sailor looked at him with tears in his eyes, and said, 'When I went
to sea five years ago, I left a boy behind me, and if I should now find
him such a good fellow as you seem to be, I shall be as happy as the day
is long, though I have lost my leg and must go on crutches all the rest
of my life.'

'What was your son's name?' the boy asked.

'Tom White,' said the sailor, 'and my name is John White.'

When the boy heard these names he jumped up, threw his arms round the
sailor's neck, and said, 'My dear, dear father, I am Tom White, your own
little boy.'

How great was the sailor's joy thus to meet his own child, and to find
him so good to those who wanted help! Tom had been taken care of by his
uncle while his father was at sea, and the sunburnt, lame sailor found a
happy home in the farmhouse of his brother; and though he had now a new
crutch, he kept the broken one as long as he lived, and showed it to all
strangers who came to the farm, as a proof of the kind heart of his dear
son Tom.

The Journal; or Birthday Gifts

It was the custom of Mr. Clayton to present gifts to his children on
their birthdays, and his gifts were of less or greater value, according
to their industry, improvement, and good conduct during the year. It was
also the wish of Mr. Clayton that his eldest son and daughter should
each keep a journal of all their actions. He did not desire to see this
journal himself, but he advised them to read over at the end of each
week what they had written, that the record of what was good might
incite them to other acts of virtue, and the history of their mistakes
and errors serve as a warning for the future.

This kind, indulgent father seldom had cause to punish his children;
they were indeed very good and docile children, always respecting the
commands of their parents, and loving each other with the true fondness
of brothers and sisters.

One only of these children went to school, and that was the eldest boy,
Laurence Clayton. The others were instructed by a governess at home.
Laurence was a fine boy, the hope and pride of his family. For nine
birthdays he had received gifts from the hand of his father as the
reward of his good conduct, and now his tenth birthday was approaching,
and Mr. Clayton had heard so pleasing an account of Laurence from his
scho