; my father forgot to lecture me for my ill humour, or
to enquire into the cause, and we were soon seated by the side of the
tombstone. No lesson went on that day; no talking of pretty mamma
sleeping in the green grave; no jumping from the tombstone to the
ground; no merry jokes or pleasant stories. I sate upon my father's
knee, looking up in his face, and thinking, "_How sorry papa looks_,"
till, having been fatigued with crying, and now oppressed with
thought, I fell fast asleep.

My uncle soon learned from Susan that this place was our constant
haunt; she told him she did verily believe her master would never get
the better of the death of her mistress, while he continued to teach
the child to read at the tombstone; for, though it might sooth his
grief, it kept it for ever fresh in his memory. The sight of his
sister's grave had been such a shock to my uncle, that he readily
entered into Susan's apprehensions; and concluding, that if I were set
to study by some other means there would no longer be a pretence for
these visits to the grave, away my kind uncle hastened to the nearest
market-town to buy me some books.

I heard the conference between my uncle and Susan, and I did not
approve of his interfering in our pleasures. I saw him take his hat
and walk out, and I secretly hoped he was gone _beyond seas_ again,
from whence Susan had told me he had come. Where _beyond seas_ was I
could not tell; but I concluded it was somewhere a great way off. I
took my seat on the church-yard stile, and kept looking down the road,
and saying, "I hope I shall not see my uncle again. I hope my uncle
will not come from _beyond seas_ any more;" but I said this very
softly, and had a kind of notion that I was in a perverse ill-humoured
fit. Here I sate till my uncle returned from the market-town with his
new purchases. I saw him come walking very fast with a parcel under
his arm. I was very sorry to see him, and I frowned, and tried to look
very cross. He untied his parcel, and said, "Betsy, I have brought
you a pretty book." I turned my head away, and said, "I don't want a
book;" but I could not help peeping again to look at it. In the hurry
of opening the parcel he had scattered all the books upon the ground,
and there I saw fine gilt covers and gay pictures all fluttering
about. What a fine sight!--All my resentment vanished, and I held up
my face to kiss him, that being my way of thanking my father for any
extraordinary favour.