signifies!—he's here, and I hold him by the hand. Where's the other good gentleman? Beaum. Here very happy to see such worthy people made so. Harf. He has been my dearest friend for a great many years, and I am beholden to him almost as much as to you two. Mary. Has he? God bless him, and reward him! Harf. I am grieved to think what you must have suffered from hardship and poverty. But that is all at an end; no workhouse now! John. God bless you! then I shall be happy still. But we must not be burdensome to you. Harf. Don't talk of that. As long as I have a shilling, it is my duty to give you sixpence of it. Did you not take care of me when all the world forsook me, and treated me as your own child when I had no other parent; and shall I ever forsake you in your old age? Oh, never-never! Mary. Ay, you had always a kind heart of your own. I always used to think that our dear Ned would, some time or other, prove a blessing to us. Harf. You must leave this poor hut, that is not fit to keep out the weather, and we must get you a snug cottage, either in this village or some other. John. Pray, my dear sir, let us die in this town, as we have always lived in it. And as to a house, I believe that where old Richard Carpenter used to live in is empty, if it would not be too good for us. Harf. What, the white cottage on the green? I remember it—it is just the thing. You shall remove there this very week. Mary. This is beyond all my hopes and wishes. Harf. There you shall have a little close to keep a cow-and a girl to milk her, and take care of you both -and a garden, well stocked with herbs and roots— and a little yard for pigs and poultry—and some good, new furniture for your house. John. O, too much! too much! Mary. What makes me cry so, when so many good things are coming to us? Harf. Who is the landlord of that house? John. Our next neighbour, Mr. Wheatfield. Harf. I'll go and speak about it directly, and then come to you again. Come, Beaumont. God bless you both! John. God in Heaven bless you! TWENTY-FOURTH EVENING. PERSEVERANCE AGAINST FORTUNE. THEODORE was a boy of lively parts and engaging manners; but he had the failing of being extremely impatient in his temper, and inclined to extremes. He was ardent in all his pursuits, but could bear no disappointment; and if the least thing went wrong, he threw up what he was about in a pet, and could not be prevailed upon to resume it. His father, Mr. Carleton, had given him a bed in the garden, which he had cultivated with great delight. The borders were set with double daisies of different colours, next to which was a row of auriculas and polyanthuses. Beyond were stocks, and other taller flowers and shrubs; and a beautiful damask rose graced the centre. This rose was just budding, and Theodore watched its daily progress with great interest. One unfortunate day, the door of the garden having been left open, a drove of pigs entered, and began to riot on the herbs and flowers. An alarm being sounded, Theodore and the servant boy rushed upon them, smacking their whips. The whole herd, in affright, took their course across Theodore's flower-bed, on which some of them had before been grazing. Stocks, daisies, and auriculas were all trampled down, or torn up; and, what was worst of all, an old sow ran directly over the beautiful rose-tree, and broke off its stem level with the ground. When Theodore came up, and beheld all the mischief, and especially his favourite rose strewed on the soil, rage and grief choked his utterance. After standing awhile the picture of despair, he snatched up a spade that stood near, and with furious haste dug over the whole bed, and whelmed all the relics of his flowers deep under the soil. This exertion being ended, he burst into tears, and silently left the garden. His father, who had beheld the scene at a distance, though somewhat diverted at the boy's childish violence, yet began seriously to reflect on the future consequences of such a temper, if suffered to grow up without restraint. He said nothing to him at the time, but, in the afternoon, he took him for a walk into a neighbouring parish. There was a large, wild common, and at the skirts of it, a neat farm-house, with fields lying around it, all well fenced, and cultivated in the best manner. The air was sweetened with the beanflower and clover. An orchard of fine young fruittrees lay behind the house; and before it a little garden, gay with all the flowers of the season. A stand of beehives was on the southern side, sheltered by a thick hedge of honeysuckle and sweet briar. The farm-yard was stocked with pigs and poultry. A herd of cows, with full udders, was just coming home to be milked. Everything wore the aspect of plenty and good management. The charms of the scene struck Theodore very forcibly, and he expressed his pleasure in the warmest terms. "This place," said his father, belongs to a man who is the greatest example I know of patient fortitude bearing up against misfortune; and all that you see is the reward of his own perseverance. I am a little acquainted with him, and we will go in and beg a draught of milk, and try if we can prevail upon him to tell us his story." Theodore willingly accompanied his father. They were received by the farmer with cordial frankness. After they were 66 seated," Mr. Hardman," says Mr. Carleton, "I have often heard part of your adventures, but never had a regular account of the whole. If you will favour me and my little boy with the story of them, we shall think ourselves much obliged to you." "Lack-a-day, sir," said he, "there's little in them worth telling of, so far as I know. I have had my ups and downs in the world, to be sure, but so have many men besides. However, if you wish to hear about them, they are at your service; and I can't say but it gives me pleasure sometimes to talk over old matters, and think how much better things have turned out than might have been expected." Now, I am of opinion," said Mr. C., that, from your spirit and perseverance, a good conclusion might have been expected." "You are pleased to compliment, sir," replied the farmer, " but I will begin without more words. 66 You may, perhaps, have heard, that my father was a man of good estate. He thought of nothing, poor man! but how to spend it; and he had the uncommon luck to spend it twice over. For when he was obliged to sell it the first time, it was bought in by a relation, who left it him again by his will. But my poor father was not a man to take warning. He fell to living as he had lived before, and just made his estate and his life hold out together. He died at the age of five and forty, and left his family beggars. I believe he would not have taken to drinking, as he did, had it not been for his impatient temper, which made him fret and vex himself for every trifle, and then he had nothing for it, but to drown his care in liquor. "It was my lot to be taken by my mother's brother, who was master of a merchant ship. I served him as an apprentice several years, and underwent a good deal of the usual hardships of a sailor's life. He haa just made me his mate, in a voyage up the Mediterranean, when we had the misfortune to be wrecked on the coast of Morocco. The ship struck at some distance from shore, and we lay a long, stormy night, with the waves dashing over us, expecting every moment to perish. My uncle, and several of the crew, died of fatigue and want, and by morning only four of us were left alive. My companions were so disheartened, that they thought of nothing but submitting to their fate. For my part, I considered life still worth struggling for; and the weather having become calmer, I persuaded them to join me in making a sort of raft, by the help of which, with much toil and danger, we reached the land. Here we were seized by the barbarous inhabitants, and carried up the country, for slaves to the emperor. We were employed about some public buildings, made to work very hard, with the whip at our backs, and allowed nothing but water, and a kind of pulse. I have heard persons talk as though there was little in being a slave but the name; but they who have been slaves themselves, I am sure will never make light of slavery in others. A ransom was set on our heads, but so high, that it seemed impossible for poor, friendless creatures like us, ever to pay it. The thought of perpetual servitude, together with the hard treatment we met with, quite overcame my poor companions. They drooped and died, one after another. I still thought it not impossible to mend my condition, and, perhaps, to recover my freedom. We worked about twelve hours in the day, and had one holiday in the week. I employed my leisure time in learning to make mats and flag-baskets. in which I soon became so expert, as to have a good many for sale, and thereby got a little money to purchase better food, and several small conveniences. We were afterwards set to work in the emperor's gardens; and here I showed so much good-will and attention, that I got into favour with the overseer. He had a large garden of his own; and he made interest for me to be suffered to work for him alone, on the condition of paying a man to do my duty. I soon became so useful to him, that he treated me more like a hired servant than a slave, and gave me regular |