was gratified to notice that he is not destitute of gratitude for
all you have done to improve his condition. He requested me to
express his thanks, also to your son, who he says first awoke in
him a desire to become an honest boy, and likewise to Mrs. Taylor.
Patrick is taking hold of his lessons with a will, and hopes to
write you soon.

"Respectfully yours,

"JOHNATHAN HAVEN."

This letter was read with great interest by all the family; but there
was no one who rejoiced so much at Pat's good conduct as Bertie.

Mrs. Curtis was greatly affected the night following to hear the
little boy thank God for helping Pat to be good and obey the
commandments.

About a fortnight later, Whitefoot stopped at the village post office,
and Bertie jumped from his carriage and ran in with a package of
letters for the mail.

"Look here!" exclaimed the girl, who delivered letters. "Is this for
you?"

The child glanced at it, laughing and blushing. It was a curious
shaped epistle, almost square, without an envelope, the name being a
rough imitation of printing, and spelled Birty Kertis, Oxford; care
Squier Kertis.

"I think it must be intended for you," said the girl, with an arch
glance. "It is post-marked Lexington."

"Oh, yes, it's mine!" exclaimed the boy. "It's from Pat Riley, I guess
he wrote it himself."

It was indeed from Patrick. I do not think my readers could decipher
it, if I copied the curious spelling, I shall, therefore, give it as
Mrs. Curtis, after considerable study, read it to Bertie.

"DEAR FRIEND:--There's a big boy here as knows how to write
tip-top. I and Tip (that's his name) are the most popular boys
in school. He's agreed to write this letter for me, 'cause I want
ye to know how I'm getting on; and there's something I want to
tell ye awful bad, 'cause I know ye'll like it. You was the first
one that ever spoke encouraging to me, and I'll never forget it
of ye as long as I know myself, nor then either. I'm going to try
and be a Squire like your pa; and then I'll take all the little
thieving fellows I can find, and help 'em to be good. Rich folks
don't know how hard 'tis for poor ones to keep from stealin' when
their stomach is as flimpsy as a rag. I know how to pity 'em, for
when mammy locked me up till I'd agree to steal again, there was
such a gnawing and gnawing, that