s picked up by some of the people, who carried him home to the
hospital.

I have but one more circumstance to relate. I was one day sitting with
Bessy and my children, at the old cottage on the beach, Bramble and my
father were smoking their pipes on a bench which they had set up
outside, when one of the Deal boats landed with passengers. As they
passed by us one old gentleman started, and then stopped short, as he
beheld Bessy.

"Mine frau!" he cried, "mine frau dat was in heaven!"

We stared very much, as we did not comprehend him; but he then came up
to me and said, "I beg your pardon, mynheer, but what is dat young
woman?"

"She is my wife," replied I.

"I was going to say dat she was my wife, but dat is impossible. Look
you here, sar."

The old man pulled a miniature out of his breast, and certainly the
resemblance to Bessy was most remarkable.

"Now, sar, dat was my wife. Where did you get dis young woman?"

I requested him to walk into the cottage, and then told him the history
of Bessy.

"Sar, my wife was coming home with her child in a brig, and the brig was
never heard of. It was supposed that she did perish, and every one else
too. Sar, this lady must be my daughter."

"I'm sorry that we have no proofs to offer you," replied I; "she had
only bed-clothes on when she was taken into the boat, and there is
nothing to establish her identity."

"I am content, sar; she must be my daughter. She was in a brig with her
mother, and she was saved the very same year that her mother come home.
There, sar, look at this picture; it is the same person. I want no more
proof--she is my daughter."

Although this was what might be called only collateral proof, I did
agree with the old gentleman that it was very strong; at all events, it
was sufficient for him, and he claimed Bessy as his child. Had he
claimed her to take her away, I might have disputed it; but as he loaded
her with presents, and when he, died, which he did three years
afterwards, and left twenty thousand rix dollars, of course I was
perfectly satisfied with his relationship.

So much for what has occurred since the time I married; and now, as the
reader may, perhaps, wish to know something about the present condition
of myself and family, I must inform him that my father and Bramble are
still alive, and flourishing under their grey hairs. My sister has four
children, and her husband is now a dean: they do say that, from the
interest of