o have one separated
from the rest, they sent for the youngest from the parish where it was
taken in, and had them all brought up together.

It would take up too long a part of this story to give a particular
account with what a charitable tenderness this good person, who was but
an uncle-in-law to them, managed that affair; how careful he was of
them; went constantly to see them, and to see that they were well
provided for, clothed, put to school, and, at last, put out in the world
for their advantage; but it is enough to say he acted more like a father
to them than an uncle-in-law, though all along much against his wife's
consent, who was of a disposition not so tender and compassionate as
her husband.

You may believe I heard this with the same pleasure which I now feel at
the relating it again; for I was terribly affrighted at the
apprehensions of my children being brought to misery and distress, as
those must be who have no friends, but are left to parish benevolence.

I was now, however, entering on a new scene of life. I had a great house
upon my hands, and some furniture left in it; but I was no more able to
maintain myself and my maid Amy in it than I was my five children; nor
had I anything to subsist with but what I might get by working, and that
was not a town where much work was to be had.

My landlord had been very kind indeed after he came to know my
circumstances; though, before he was acquainted with that part, he had
gone so far as to seize my goods, and to carry some of them off too.

But I had lived three-quarters of a year in his house after that, and
had paid him no rent, and, which was worse, I was in no condition to pay
him any. However, I observed he came oftener to see me, looked kinder
upon me, and spoke more friendly to me, than he used to do, particularly
the last two or three times he had been there. He observed, he said, how
poorly I lived, how low I was reduced, and the like; told me it grieved
him for my sake; and the last time of all he was kinder still, told me
he came to dine with me, and that I should give him leave to treat me;
so he called my maid Amy, and sent her out to buy a joint of meat; he
told her what she should buy; but naming two or three things, either of
which she might take, the maid, a cunning wench, and faithful to me as
the skin to my back, did not buy anything outright, but brought the
butcher along with her, with both the things that she had chosen, for
him t