and Newton entered with his portmanteau in his hand;
but whatever noise he might have made was not sufficient to rouse
Nicholas, who continued in the same position.

With one glance round the shop Newton perceived that it was bare of
every thing; even the glazed cases on the counter, which contained the
spectacles, etcetera, had disappeared. All bespoke the same tale, as
did the appearance of his father--misery and starvation.

"My dearest father!" cried Newton, unable to contain himself any longer.

"How!--what?" cried Nicholas, starting at the voice, but not looking
round. "Pho! nonsense! he's dead," continued the old man, communing
with himself, as he again settled into his former position.

"My dearest father, I'm not dead!--look round--'tis Newton! alive and
well."

"Newton!" replied the old man, rising from his stool, and tottering to
the counter, which was between them, on which he laid both his hands to
support himself, as he looked into his son's face. "'Tis Newton, sure
enough! My dear, dear boy!--then you an't dead?"

"No, indeed, father; I am alive and well, thank God!"

"Thank God too!" said Nicholas, dropping his face on the counter, and
bursting into tears.

Newton sprung over to the side where his father was, and embraced him.
For some time they were locked in each other's arms; when Nicholas, who
had recovered his composure, looked at Newton, and said, "Are you
hungry, my dear boy?"

"Yes, indeed I am," replied Newton, smiling, as the tears coursed down
his cheeks; "for I have had nothing since breakfast."

"And I have had nothing for these two days," replied Nicholas, leaning
back to the wall in evident exhaustion.

"Good God! you don't say so?" cried Newton, "where can I buy something
ready cooked?"

"At the shop round the corner; there's a nice piece of boiled beef
there; I saw it yesterday. I offered my improvement on the duplex for a
slice; but he would not trust me, even for that."

Newton ran out, and in a few minutes re-appeared with the beef in
question, some bread, and a pot of porter, with two plates and knives
and forks, which the people had lent him, upon his putting down a
deposit. He laid them on the counter before his father, who, without
saying a word, commenced his repast: the beef disappeared--the bread
vanished--the porter-pot was raised to his mouth, and in a moment it was
dry!

"Never made a better dinner, Newton," observed Nicholas; "but I wish
there had b