ce, thou
strange medley of inconsistence! but you shan't stay after your time in
the house.

Nay, pray, sir, pray, sir, said the good old man, relent a little.
Ads-heartikins! you young gentlemen are made of iron and steel, I think;
I'm sure, said he, my heart's turned into butter, and is running away
at my eyes. I never felt the like before.--Said my master, with an
imperious tone, Get out of my presence, hussy! I can't bear you in my
sight. Sir, said I, I'm going as fast as I can.

But, indeed, my dear father and mother, my head was so giddy, and my
limbs trembled so, that I was forced to go holding by the wainscot all
the way with both my hands, and thought I should not have got to the
door: But when I did, as I hoped this would be my last interview with
this terrible hard-hearted master, I turned about, and made a low
courtesy, and said, God bless you, sir! God bless you, Mr. Longman!
and I went into the lobby leading to the great hall, and dropt into the
first chair; for I could get no farther a good while.

I leave all these things to your reflection, my dear parents but I can
write no more. My poor heart's almost broken! Indeed it is--O when shall
I get away!--Send me, good God, in safety, once more to my poor father's
peaceful cot!--and there the worst that can happen will be joy in
perfection to what I now bear!--O pity

Your distressed DAUGHTER.

LETTER XXIX

MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER,

I must write on, though I shall come so soon; for now I have hardly any
thing else to do. I have finished all that lay upon me, and only wait
the good time of setting out. Mrs. Jervis said, I must be low in pocket,
for what I had laid out; and so would have presented me with two
guineas of her five; but I could not take them of her, because, poor
gentlewoman, she pays old debts for her children, that were extravagant,
and wants them herself. This, though, was very good in her.

I am sorry I shall have but little to bring with me; but I know you
won't, you are so good!--and I will work the harder, when I come home,
if I can get a little plain-work, or any thing, to do. But all your
neighbourhood is so poor, that I fear I shall want work, except, may
be, dame Mumford can help me to something, from any good family she is
acquainted with.

Here, what a sad thing it is! I have been brought up wrong, as matters
stand. For, you know, my good lady, now in heaven, loved singing an