tribute of
praise to my own sister. I found that she was living in the family of an
aunt, and was devoted to benevolent objects of all kinds, but chiefly
interested in schemes for improving the temporal and spiritual condition
of seamen. O, my poor Louisa! I knew, at that moment, that love for her
miserable brother's memory had dictated these exertions.

"Yet even then I did not seek to see her. 'I will leave her in peace,' I
said to myself, 'for she thinks I am dead, and it would be better for
her if I really were.' Still, now that she was alone, I could not bear
to go so far from her again, and therefore made up my mind to enter the
fishing-service, that I might not long be absent from the city.

"You may remember the day that Captain Peck brought the Bibles on board,
which had been left for distribution by a lady of Boston. That lady was
my sister, and I trust that the bread which she thus cast upon the
waters may indeed be returned to her before many days. I have read that
Bible daily, first, because it was her gift, and then because I found
that it could give me more peace than I had ever known before in my
whole life. I shall go to my sister as soon as we return, and I feel
that she will not cast me away. I have so impaired my constitution, that
only a few years may remain to me; but whatever time I am spared shall
be spent in repaying as far as possible her unwearied affection.

"I have written this story with great reluctance, but my heart was
almost breaking from so long repressing its emotions. You are still
boys. Try, then, while it is in your power, to make those who love you
happy, instead of laying up years of remorse and misery by selfish
indulgence of your own wishes, at the expense of their comfort and
peace. Read now the book which I have so lately learned to prize, and
you will not have to look back upon the grave of a father whom you never
honored, and the counsels of a mother so long despised."

Poor Dick! Although he was so unkind, do you not feel very sorry for
him, Bennie? I long so to hear of his meeting with his sister, that I am
really impatient to return. David did not say much after reading this
story, but I know he thinks a great deal about it. Yesterday he said to
me,--"Did you ever know, Pidgie, that girls were so tender-hearted? I
think I must often have hurt my little sister's feelings. She is a good
little thing, and, though not quite so pretty as that picture of Louisa
Colman, y