d--but duty appeased--

"Buy a song, young woman, to sing to your sweetheart, while you sit on
his knee in the dog-watch--

"But duty appeased, 'tis the heart of a lamb."

I believe there are few people who do not take a strong interest in the
English sailor, particularly in one who has been maimed in the defence
of his country. I always have; and as I heard the poor disabled fellow
bawling out his ditty, certainly not with a very remarkable voice or
execution, I pulled out the drawer behind the counter, and took out some
halfpence to give him. When I caught his eye I beckoned to him, and he
entered the shop. "Here, my good fellow," said I, "although a man of
peace myself, yet I feel for those who suffer in the wars;" and I put
the money to him.

"May your honour never know a banyan day," replied the sailor; "and a
sickly season for you, into the bargain."

"Nay, friend, that is not a kind wish to others," replied I.

The sailor fixed his eyes earnestly upon me, as if in astonishment, for,
until I had answered, he had not looked at me particularly.

"What are you looking at?" said I.

"Good heavens!" exclaimed he. "It is--yet it cannot be!"

"Cannot be! what, friend?"

He ran out of the door, and read the name over the shop, and then came
in, and sank upon a chair outside of the counter. "Japhet--I have found
you at last!" exclaimed he, faintly.

"Good heaven! who are you?"

He threw off his hat, with false ringlets fastened to the inside of it,
and I beheld _Timothy_. In a moment I sprang over the counter, and was
in his arms. "Is it possible," exclaimed I, after a short silence on
both sides, "that I find you a disabled sailor?"

"Is it possible, Japhet," replied Timothy, "that I find you a
broad-brimmed Quaker?"

"Even so, Timothy. I am really and truly one."

"Then you are less disguised than I am," replied Timothy, kicking off
his wooden leg, and letting down his own, which had been tied up to his
thigh, and concealed in his wide blue trowsers. "I am no more a sailor
than you are, Japhet, and since you left me have never yet seen the salt
water, which I talk and sing so much about."

"Then thou hast been deceiving, Timothy, which I regret much."

"Now I do perceive that you are a Quaker," replied Tim; "but do not
blame me until you have heard my story. Thank God, I have found you at
last. But tell me, Japhet, you will not send me away--will you? If
your dress is changed, you heart