ot sing it much better
than Wilder,"[4] These words John never forgot; and he owned to this
writer, about six years ago, that they still tingled in his ear, though,
at the time they were uttered, he did not know who was meant by Wilder.
The person who said this patted him on the head, stroked down his hair,
affectionately, and added "You are a dear boy. May God Almighty bless
and prosper you!" The other gave him a crownpiece, and desired him to
keep it for his sake. Had he given him a hundred crowns they would have
been nothing to the honied words of the former. In truth, the leading
foible of Hodgkinson through life, was vanity--the great taproot of all
his irregularities and errors. He was quite agog to learn who those two
men might be: he asked, but no one knew them--they were strangers. In
the afternoon, however, they were joined by some players who were
performing in the town; and from one of those he learned that the two
strangers were from Ireland--He who gave him the crownpiece being a
gentleman of the name of Comerford, a merchant--he who gave him his
blessing, a Mr. Dawson, a player of Dublin, who was an acting assistant,
and a kind of purveyor for the manager of the theatre in that city, and
stepfather to the celebrated William Lewis. The Mr. Wilder alluded to
was many years an actor and singer in Dublin and the original Linco and
colonel Oldboy of that city.

That crownpiece John had put into the hands of his mother, to keep.
Having taken his resolution to leave Manchester, and seek his fortune,
he went home, took the crown piece from the place where it was
deposited, and getting up before break of day next morning, put on his
best clothes, packed up a shirt, and took leave of Manchester. His first
notion was to go to sea, to which end he took the road to Bristol,
knowing that his master would, by means of the constant intercourse
between Manchester and Liverpool, readily detect him if he went that
road--an event more terrible to him than death; the penalty for runaway
apprentices being very severe and disgraceful. It was on this occasion
he dropped the name of MEADOWCROFT, and adopted the much less elegant
one, of Hodgkinson.

Here the reader will naturally pause, in order to reflect upon the very
extraordinary picture now presented to him. A boy of little more than
fourteen years of age, unschooled; little better than illiterate;
destitute of useful knowledge; cut off from parents, friends and
connexions