with violence, said, "Next time you come in here, you shall come in the right way," pushed her away, and shut the door.

The girl was not turned out without a hard struggle; and in an agony of tears, she exclaimed, Who'll take care of my mother!

The violence with which she had been forced out, had thrown her against the side of the door, and we heard the sound of something breaking; this increased the flow of tears;-Oh! the physic's all spilt! She sat down on a large stone which was near the door, and regardless of our presence, bent her head upon her hands on her knees, and sobbed aloud.

Poor girl, I said, what is the matter? Something very sorrowful, I fear; shall I knock at the door, and see if I can get your father to take you in ?

Please not, sir; I'll wait here, may be in a little time he'll be better.

I fear your father's a wicked man.

She made no answer, but sighed deeply.

Is he given to liquor?

No answer.

Is he unkind to your mother? This question made the tears flow faster.

Have you any brothers or sisters within?

I took them to school, when I went out.
What will you do?

I'll wait a bit here.

Recollecting that old Thomas was her friend, I proposed that we should leave her and go to acquaint him with the circumstance. We soon walked round to his house, and when we entered, I was a little disappointed to see a young lady there, as I thought it might prevent my communicating immediately my errand.

She instantly rose to go. I desired that we might withdraw, rather than intrude; but in a grave and kind manner she said,

By no means, I have quite finished my business,— and wishing old Thomas good morning, she offered her hand to Jane's mother, and patting little Sarah on the head as she passed, left the house.

The manner of the young lady gave me a presentiment that she was the very teacher I had wished to know; but I could not at that time take the liberty of endeavoring to form an acquaintance. However, my pressing anxiety for the distressed girl, made me quit these thoughts, to inquire what I could do for her.

After relating all we had seen, Becca's heart seemed quite overpowered with sympathy, and she said,--Poor girl, the Lord tries her, but he supports her too.

It seems very remarkable,-said old Thomas; for this very morning she came here to meet that young lady, her friend, who brought her her money that she had saved up, and a bottle of physic for her sick mother.

We've seen the end of the physic; what has she done with the money?

She paid it before she left this house to the man her father owed it to. The young lady thought it best, so she appointed the man to meet her here; for Martha hasn't much time to leave her mother, she's so ill that she can't help herself.

Poor Martha, indeed, we might say, if we looked only to her sorrows; but she has a witness of her filial piety who will not be unmindful of her. You know her well, Thomas; how will she behave towards her father?

Why, sir, you see her natural temper's very passionate and hot; but she's been taught so long the sin of it, and she's found by experience the mischief of it, that I think on that account she behaves milder and

gentler than a meeker natural spirit would. There's this in it, that she's obliged to seek for grace, and throw herself on God, or else she couldn't do as she does. I remember she said to me once, after she had been telling me of the subject of the lessons they'd had on the fifth commandment, "Oh, Thomas, it's very hard to learn to honor my father when I see him so wicked; but my teacher said I must honor him as my father, and for that reason must obey him in all things that were not contrary to God's word. Hate his sins,' she said, 'but try to turn him from them; pray for him, and honor him as your father.' It's very hard, Thomas; but I'll try by God's grace to do it." Poor girl! many a time she has run in here to hide the rising of her passion, and to try, by talking of God's word and her duty, to get the better of it; and then she's gone away like a meek lamb-like child.

Cannot we do anything for her, in this strait that she is in just now ?

I believe, sir, it's best to let her alone, she's experienced in these things, and she says the Lord often softens her father's heart when she thinks it the hardest; she'll take some opportunity of getting in when the door is opened for somebody else. Perhaps he'll

fall asleep with liquor, and she'll get in at the low window if he's at the other side of the house.

It is a pain to me to leave her so; but if you think it best, we will not return that way.

I believe it would be best, sir; for she suffers a deal of pain when her father's exposed; and he's often doubly outrageous if he thinks any one interferes.

As this was the case, however unwilling we felt, we did not trouble her by any more observations; and going another way we met a number of children of different ages at play in a very rude manner, and quarrelling at the same time about something that had taken place. Amongst them I was very sorry to see the two school-boys with whom I had been before engaged; they recognized me immediately, and pulling another boy by the sleeve, made signs to get away over a gate by the road-side.

in

Help me, I said to my friend, spread out your arms, and let us stop the way. We did so; and I demanded to know how they all came to be there at school-time. They in general looked bold and indifferent to my quiry. I shook my head at my two former acquaintances, who only feared that the same thing might take place as before. We questioned them all individually,