THE OLD MAN'S COUNSEL. BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. AMONG Our hills and valleys, I have known Wise and grave men, who while their diligent hands One such I knew long since, a white-haired man, Danced on their stalks; the shad-bush white with flowers, I saw the pulses of the gentle wind On the young grass. My heart was touched with joy At so much beauty, flushing every hour Into a fuller beauty; but my friend, The thoughtful ancient, standing at my side, I listened, and from midst the depth of woods 'Gainst his barred sides his speckled wings, and made A sound like distant thunder; slow the strokes At first, then fast and faster, till at length By swiftly running waters hurried on To shoot some mighty cliff. Along the banks Bare sands and pleasant homesteads; flowery nooks, "Wisely, my son, while yet thy days are long, Long since that white-haired ancient slept-but still, Is at my side, his voice is in my ear. THE DAGUERREOTYPE IN THE HAREM. Every body knows that our celebrated painter, Horace Vernet, was some time ago with the Pacha of Egypt. This visit was marked by quite an oriental adventure, for the knowledge of which we are indebted to the indiscretion of a friend. Horace Vernet had been above a week at Alexandria, residing in the Viceroy's palace itself; he went out every day to explore the town, covered with a long Egyptian cloak, and his excursions compelled him to pass every morning through the same street, under the inaccessible terraces where the Pacha's women walk. One day having sallied forth very early, he was almost alone in the street, when something that seemed addressed to him fell at his feet into the dust. He recognized and picked up a white rose tied to a red ribbon, and perceived the end of a scarf of the same color waving upon the terraced parapet. "What is this?" said to himself the astonished painter, and, recollecting "The Arabian Nights," he added, "'T is a declaration of love!" And who would not have guessed the meaning of those symbolical trifles? The white rose must have meant "I am a virgin of the Harem," and the red ribbon tied to its stem, "I burn for you, but am a slave." Unfortunately our illustrious artist is a venerable man, and with his crown of glory mingled white hairs. "I am no doubt mistaken for another," said he, with, a philosophical smile. Looking about him he was much surprised to find the street deserted. "If this rose be not for me," thought he, “I have at least a right to keep it,” and he went on smelling the fragrant flower, and not without involuntarily dreaming of the oddness of the occurrence. He was thinking again of it on the following morning as he passed the same spot, when a second rose fell at his feet, and the scarf again fluttered above his head; another, flower fell, and another signal was made, on the next day, and both were repeated through the week. This is decidedly for me,' said the artist, as he picked up the sixth rose; "I have uncon sciously seduced one of my host's women, and here I am, like another Joseph, before the modern Pharaoh." While thus jesting, Horace Vernet was seriously perplexed and could no longer enter Mehemet Ali's palace without mingled agitation and remorse. He could not make the slightest discovery that could reveal to him the unknown beauty; not even the shade of a woman did he espy in the Palace, and the roses had left off dropping from the harem terrace. In the meantime the artist and the Viceroy had long interviews every day. In the course of one of them Horace Vernet explained the daguerreotype to Mehemet. The latter. was so delighted with the wonders of the discovery that he wished to make an experiment with his own hands, and set about studying, morning and night, the photograph laws and processes. In a few days the pupil became skillful enough to do without his master, when being anxious to give solemn proof of his dexterity, "If the weather be fine to-morrow," said he to the painter, "we shall go and visit our grand works in the harbor, and it is I, myself, that shall achieve the miracles of your wonderful instrument." Next day the Egyptian sun was dazzling, and the artist and Viceroy set out with several officers. At the moment they pased before an establishment of women's baths, Horace Vernet abruptly stopped his horse; a magnificent boquet had just dropped upon the fore part of his saddle, and the whole cor• tege applauded his luck. "A second chapter to my romance," thought the artist. My unknown friend is bathing in that house." Then, observing that his nosegay was examined with the liveliest curiosity, he began himself to look at it with great attention. The flowers were as singular as they were rare, and they were put together in a manner still more singular. They evidently concealed some charming hieroglyphic. "You are trying to discover the meaning of this perfumed message," said, with some emotion, a young officer of the Pacha's Mamelukes, who spoke perfect French "If you will allow me, sir, to study it for a moment, I dare say I shall explain its purport. "Willingly," replied the painter, handing the nosegay to the officer. The latter turned it over in every direction, examined every part of it, smelt every flower, and then translated their meaning thus:-"The beating of my heart tells me that I love you; does the beating of your heart tell you that you love me; I pant for freedom only to become your slave. Will you call yourself my master, and help me to become free? Pass no more under the terrace in the morning, but pass there in the evening. The white roses will again showor upon you my beloved. If ever you meet me you will know me by my red scarf." As he finished this epistle of a novel description, the officer returned the boquet to the artist. Being congratulated by the Pacha himself, Horace Vernet was pensive, then smiled, and said to the officer, "I thank you Sir, but would be still more obliged to you if you would compose an answer worthy of the letter." "I shall not be long about it," replied the officer, as he undid the bouquet. When he had slightly changed the situation of the flowers, he handed the nosegay back to Horace Vernet and said, "I have answered this for you-"Yes, the beating of my heart tells me that I love you. I wish to rescue you on the cendition that I shall be your slave and not your master. I shall expect a souvenir from you this evening, my beloved! all my thoughts are of you, both morning and night. Whereever you meet me you will know me by my blue cloak." "Admirable, Sir, admirable!" exclaimed the painter. "Admirable, admirable!" reiterated the whole cortege, who had now arrived in front of the port. with his young odalisks, at the inaccessible summit of the harem, upon that very shaded terrace whence the white roses fell. Amid those fresh countenances and smiling costumes the sun only sees his white beard, his gold-embroidered fez and furred caftan pass. Cautiously taking the Daguerreotype, he puts it upon the parapet of the platform, and all his women quit their divans and mats to come and gaze at the wonders of art. Mehemet takes one of the plates prepared by the painter, puts it to the lens's focus, waits some minutes, and then, thinking the light's effect produced, withdraws the plate from the camera obscura, and subjects it to the process which is to convert it into a picture, while all the women eagerly bend toward the expected prodigy. But, oh, disappointment! the wonder did not come to pass, The silvered metal had lost none of its pristine whiteness, and the Pacha's face alone was colored with a glowing redness. "I have hurried myself too much!" said Mehemet, with vexation, and he resumed his task more slowly, but without a better result. "What means this?" cried he in the utmost confusion; "I must have set about it wrongly, or have forgotten some petty detail." After a long and silent pause, during which he reflected, he began again more carefully than ever. But the wonder failed a third, fourth, and fifth time, and Mehemet fell indignant upon his divan, more mortified than a juggler who had been baffled in all his tricks. The malicious whisperings of his women soon changed his shame into anger. He rushed at the instrument, was at one time near dashing it to pieces, examined every part of it, and ultimately found that the only remedy to his perplexity was to summon Horace Vernet to the harem. The Pacha long hesitated to adopt so extreme a measure, but vanity ultimately got the better of jealousy, and a slave was despatched to the artist. The painter came with an eagerness easy to conceive, and the first woman he espied among the whole number was one with a red scarf-the very pearl of the harem, resplendent with her seventeen years. But she was as calm as he was agitated; and whether it was a qui pro quo or dissimulation, her composure baffled his comprehension. The mystery will, however, doubtless explain itself. As delighted as attentive, Horace Vernet scarcely listened to the Pacha, and it was only after looking all round the Harem that he condescended to examine the powerless photograph. He then exclaimed, with affected surprise" By the Prophet! let your Highness excuse such an oversight; I had quite forgotten to put the iodine on your plates!" There the artist forgot his adventure to superintend the daguerreotype operation. Thanks to advice and some assistance, the Pacha got through his experiment with credit. Thrice did he renew it at different points of view, and so complete was his success on all occasions, that, being congratu- Our readers are aware that, by an improvement of the Da! lated by his professor in person, he determined to become one guerreotype, that part of the process must take place beforehimself. He called about him the young officers of his escort, hand. Trusting that Horace Vernet had attended to this, the and superintend a fourth experiment made by themselves. It Pacha had reckoned without his host. Hence his successive succeeded like the rest, and the Pacha was proclaimed a mas- failures, which had so greatly mortified him, and of which the ter photograph. He was so pleased with himself at the mo- artist's pretended forgetfulness had been the sole and voluntament he would willingly have operated before all Egypt, and ry cause. it was then a thought rose in his mind which was to be of woful consequence to him. "Let us go back to the palace," said he to the artist, with much animation. "You will leave that Daguerreotype at my disposal for an hour, and add to it a few metallic plates, ready to receive the light." "Your Highness's wishes shall be complied with," courteously answered Horace Vernet. Upon Mehemet adding that he intended making an experiment before the ladies of his harem, "What!" exclaimed the painter, with much emotion, and pressing the bouquet he had still in his hands, "is it to your women that you are going to exhibit the Daguerreotype?" As you have said," replied the Pacha, smiling, "and that is why I want your instrument without your advice." Civilized as the old Mahometan chief was, the artist perceived that oriental jealousy still guarded his Harem, and it was not without a cruel temptation that he thought of the white roses, the red scarf, and of the opportunity of entering the Harem with his Daguerreotype. But in vain did he urge to the Pacha the risk of his failing in his experiment without the assistance he had so recently needed; the humiliation which would follow such failure before all his women, and the claims which the age and experience of his master gave him in being honored with an exception. To all his arguments, no doubt very excellent, Mehemet returned a malicious shake of his head and the words-"Your Daguerreotype for an hour, my dear guest, with five metallic plates ready to work." Horace Vernet submitted with many a sigh, and the photograph entered the women's abode without him. Let the reader now figure to himself the old Pacha alone Mehemet guessed the stratagem, and forgave it the more willingly as it exonerated his vanity. "My jealousy pardons you for the sake of my vanity," whispered he, with a smile, to Horace Vernet. "Since you are as enamored of my harem as I am of your Daguerreotype, we can make an amicable compromise. Go and fetch for Mehemet Ali some iodized plates, and you may look over the Pacha of Egypt's harem quite at your leisure." Horace returned in a few minutes. On this occasion, the artist and the Viceroy were equally well pleased with themselves, for while the latter delighted the women by the success of his operation, the former contrived to hand his bouquette réponse to the odalisk with the red scarf. So far so well; but at the moment the Pacha turned about amid the compliments of his fair spectators, his eyes flashed fire, and his hand fell upon his dagger, and Horace Vernet quaked and grew pale. Mehemet had surprised the movements of the painter and odalisk, and he recognised in the latter's scarf the bouquet composed under his own eyes. "Allons-it is all over with me!" thought Horace Vernet, who was more dead than alive, "and my romance must end as most oriental tales-with the cimeter or the bowstring." One may judge of our artist's astonishment and gladness, when he beheld Mehemet's eyes soften into mildness, and the menacing contraction of his lips give way to the kindest smile. "A hundred years ago," said the Viceroy, "your head would already have dropped from your shoulders; but I, who am not a Pacha like the rest, and do not want that young girl, I forgive her as well as you; and since she pleases you, I make you a present of her.” "I accept it,” replied the delighted painter, "on condition that I shall dispose of her as I list." "In Egypt, that is a matter of course," resumed Mehemet; "she is as much your property as the Daguerreotype." Decidedly, you are the greatest of Pachas!" cried the artist, "and I will forthwith make a happy couple in your palace." Dragging away the handsome girl, who was frightened at what she could not understand, Horace Vernet conducted her straight to the officer of Mamelukes, who so skillfully explained amorous bouquets, and throwing her into his arms before he had recovered from his surprise, cried, "She is yours!" Our great artist then left them together and returned to his occupations. Such, it will be conceived, is the denouement of a mere qui proquo, the key to which Horace Vernet had obtained in proceeding to the harbor. The emotion betrayed by the officer before the bath establishment had revealed to him the destination of the emblematical flowers! A similarity between their height and the color of their cloaks had explained the rest; and having ascertained the honorable character of the Egyptian, the Frenchman goodnaturedly promoted the success of his love. If we believe a friend of the celebrated painter who vouches for the authenticity of this adventure, it will be the subject of a charming picture, which we shall see at the exhibition of 1841.-[French print. TO THE ELM TREE On the corner of State and North-Pearl streets, in the city of Albany BY ALFRED B. STREET. Thou monument of many centuries! Till its vain breath were spent, could not subdue We arrogate to ourselves all gifts of God. We know not by what signs He makes those speak To whom he has denied, what we, vain man! Have named as reason. May not the bright flower Yielding its sweet breath to its bending mate King of the woods! stern darer of the storm! Enough of this. Thou art a sweet ton'd harp The splendid moon, clear, large and lustrous, looks Oh, may'st thou flourish on: though flesh like grass WOMEN AND LADIES.-Time was when, in good old Scrip ture parlance, the word woman was regarded as an honorable appellation for adult females. But this term was too repub lican for our republican community-for all such were 'women,' and the term implied no distinction between the nobility and the common herd. And so those who wore the greatest amount of silks and satins, flirted the most gracefully about town and in fashionable parties, and did no work, must take a higher and a more honorable name, and be called Ladies. But in this country, honorable names, like fashionable dresses, are coveted by all parties; and soon it come to pass that we had no women' in the land. From the stuccoed and ornamented parlor, to the kitchen of the log cabin, all be came Ladies. As the intention of those designations has thus been defeated, we motion that henceforth none be allowed to the name of Ladies but good housewifes-those who are real helpmeets in the family, and can, if in health, earn their own living. These are the true nobility of the female sex and should be considered Ladies. Your mere walking bundles of silk and piano forte players, who would think themselves disgraced to be caught at work in the kitchen, should have no higher term to designate them than women, and this in the odious and unpopular sense which they originally attempted to employ it in [Maine Cultivator. 241 POOR JACK.* one could tell what was in them; and the doctor when asked, would laugh and shake his head: this made the women very curious. I believe they were chiefly preparations of the BY CAPT. MARRYAT, AUTHOR OF ‘PETER SIMPLE,' ‘JACOB FAITHFUL,' &C. stomach, and other portions of the interior of the animal frame; PART III. In which the Doctor lets out some very novel modes of Medical Treat- scribe to the reader.. I mention this, because the house in which Dr. Tadpole formerly lived no longer exists; and I wish particularly to deWhen I left Greenwich in 1817 or 1818, it was still standing; although certainly in a very dilapidated state. I will however give a slight sketch of it; as it is deeply impressed on my memory. I in It was a tall, narrow building of dark red brick, much ormamented, and probably built in the time of Queen Elizabeth. It had two benches on each side the door; for, previous to Tadpole's taking possession of it, it had been an alehouse, and The doctor had not removed much frequented by seamen. these benches, as they were convenient, when the weather was fine, for those who waited for medicine or advice; and moreover, being a jocular, sociable man, he liked people to sit down there, and would often converse with them. Indeed, this assisted much to bring him into notice, and made him so well known among the humbler classes, that none of them, if they required medicine or advice, ever thought of going to any one but Dr. Tadpole. He was very liberal and kind, and believe there was hardly a poor person in the town, who was not in his debt, for he never troubled them about payment. He had some little property of his own, or he never could have carried on such a losing concern, as his business really must have been to him. In early life he had been surgeon the navy; and was said, and I believe with justice, to be very clever in his profession. In defending himself against some act of oppression on the part of his captain-for in those times the service was very different to what it is now he had incurred the displeasure of the navy board, and had left the service. His enemies (for even the doctor had his enemies) asserted that he was turned out of the service; his friends, that he left the service in disgust; after all a matter of little consequence. The doctor is now gone, and has left behind him in the town of Greenwich a character for charity and generosity of which no one can deprive him. He was buried in Greenwich churchyard; and never was there, perhaps, such a numerous procession as voluntarily followed his remains to the grave. The poor fully paid him the debt of gratitude, if they did not pay him their other debts; and when his will was opened, it was found that he had released them all from the latter. Peace to him, and honor to his worth. but the doctor always said it was his row of "secrets" and used to amuse himself with evading the questions of the other sex. There were some larger specimens of natural history suspended from the cieling, chiefly skulls and bones of animals; and on the shelves inside a great variety of stones and pebbles and fragments of marble figures, which the doctor had picked up 1 believe in the Mediterranean; altogether the shop was a strange medley, and made people stare very much when they came into it. The doctor kept an old woman to cook and clean the house, and his boy Tom, whom I have already mentioned. Tom was a good natured lad, and, as his master said, very fond of liquorice; but the doctor used to laugh at that (when Tom was not by), saying, "It's very true that Tom my liquorice; but I will say this for him, he is very honest about jalap and rhubarb, and I have never missed a cribs grain." Next door to the doctor lived another person, who kept a small tobacconist's shop, which was a favorite resort of the pensioners and other poor people. She was an Irish woman, with the strong accent of her country, a widow by her own account. Who her husband had been was not satisfactorily known: if the question was put, she always evaded it as much as possible. All she said was, that his name was St. Felix, and that he had been of no profession. She was about twenty-two or twenty-three, very handsome, and very pleasing in her manners, which was perhaps one cause of the surmises and scandal which were continually afloat. Some said that her husband was still alive; others that he had been transported for seven years; and many (and among them my mother) declared that she could not produce her "marriage lines." Indeed there was no end to ill-natured reports, as always will be the case, when men are so unfortunate as to have a reputation, or women so unfortunate as to be pretty. But the widow appeared to be very indifferent to what people said: she was always lively and cheerful, and a great favorite with the men, whatever she may have been with the women. Doctor Tadpole had courted her ever since she had settled at Greenwich: they were the best of friends, but the doctor's suit did not appear to advance. Nevertheless the doctor seldom passed a day without paying her a visit, and she was very gracious to him. Although she sold every variety of tobacco, she would not permit people to smoke, and had no seats either in the shop or at the door-but to this rule an exception was made in favour of the doctor. He seldom failed to be there every evening; and although she would not allow him a her shop. "Well, Master Tom Saunders, or Mr. Poor Jack," said the widow, "what may your pleasure be?" Pigtail," said I, putting down the penny. "Is it for your father, Jack, for report tells me that he's in want of it ?""" "No," replied I, "it 's for old Ben-father 's a long way from this, I expect." "And do you intend to follow him, Jack? It's my opin on your first voyage.' tom up as you ion you'll be the very revarse of a good sailor if you cruise bot"It's not the pleasantest way of sailing, is it, Jack " observed the doctor. did "Not in the winter time," replied I. The widow measured the length of the pigtail, as milliners do tape, from the tip of the finger to the knuckle, and cut it off. The shop of Doctor Tadpole was fitted up in a very curious manner, and excited a great deal of admiration. During his service afloat, he had collected various objects of natural history, which he had set up or prepared himself: the lower row of bottles in the windows were full of snakes, lizards, and other reptiles; the second tier of bottles in the windows were the same as are now generally seen-large globes containing "Really, doctor, if it were not that the wry faces I make at blue and yellow mixtures, with gold hieroglyphics outside of physic would spoil my beauty, I'm almost in honor bound to them; but between each of these bottles was a stuffed animal of some kind, generally a small monkey, or of that description.send for something to take out of your shop, just by way of return for your patronage." The third row of bottles was the most incomprehensible; no "And now will you oblige me with a cigar ?" said the dochere's my shilling." tor. "I think this is the sixth, is it not, Mrs. St. Felix ? so "I trust you will never require it, Mrs. St. Felix; I've no objection to your sending for any thing you please, but don't take physic." "Yes, they do, and are as fond of it as my boy Tom is of liquorice. Well, this doctor, who is a friend of mine, quarWell, my girl Jane shall have a dose, I declare, she is get-reled with his host, who boasted of his geese having the largest ting so fat and lumpy. Only don't let it be laudanum, doctor, she's so sleepy-headed already. I told her this morning that she was looking pale, just by way of preparing her." "Mrs. St. Felix, you must excuse me, but you 've no right to interfere with my practice. I prescribe physic when I think it necessary, and Jane is perfectly well at present, and shall not have any." "And you've no right to interfere with my household, doctor. If I choose, I'll physic Jane, and the dog, and the cat, and the kitten, which I reckon to be the whole of my establishment, all four of them on the same day. Tell me, doctor, how much ipecacuanha will make a kitten sick?" "Mrs. St. Felix, I am not a veterinary surgeon, and therefore cannot answer.' "Veterinary! Well, I thought they only doctored horses." "I beg your pardon, their practice extends further, as I canprove to you. I was once at the establishment of one in Londen, and I observed, in a large room, about a dozen little lapdogs all tied up with strings. The poor little unwieldy wad, dling things were sent to him because they were asthmatic and I don't know what all--and how do you think he cured them?" "It's for me to ask that question, doctor." "Well then, he told me his secret. He tied them all up, and gave them nothing to eat, only water to drink; and in three weeks they were returned in as beautiful condition, and as frisky as young kids. Nothing but diet, Mrs. St. Felix." "I should rather think it was no diet, doctor. Well, I do declare, I'll tie up Jane for three weeks, and see if nothing but water will cure her complaints. Well, Mr. Jack, why don't you take the tobacco to Ben?" "Oh! he 's in at supper, now; there 's no hurry," replied I;" and I like to hear you talk." "Well, there'll be less scandal in your remaining to hear us than there would be if we sent you away, any how. How is little Miss Virginia, sister to Poor Jack." "She's quite well, and wants to come and see you; only mother won't let her." "Many thanks to your sister for her compliment; and not forgetting your mother for hers, also. So your mother has given up making tay on reasonable terms'?" "'Cause people wouldn't come." "And that is a sufficient reason, even if she had not another; which is, that she's never out of hot water, without boiling more. Doctor, you 're as mute as a fish. You told me how to cure Jane and the dogs; now tell me what's the dose for a cat and kitten?" "A ha'p'orth of liver, cut into small pieces." "There'll be no difficulty in getting that down their throats, any how." You see, "Talking about liver, Mrs. St. Felix, I once knew a friend of mine who cured some geese of a liver complaint." "Had they been long in the East Indies, poor creatures?" No, but they had been in a very hot climate. he was over in France during the last peace, and he went to the baths at Montpelier for the benefit of his health. He lodged with an old Frenchman. Now, you see, Mrs. St. Felix, in the south of France they have a custom of making certain pies, which are much esteemed, and are called patés de foie gras-that means livers of geese, in French." "It don't sound much like livers in English, doctor; but never mind that, go on with your story." "Here's a customer, Mrs. St. Felix; serve him first, and then I will go on with my story." An old pensioner came in, and laying the coppers on the counter, asked for a ha'p'orth of returns, and a farthing of snuff. "That's a large ready-money order, doctor," said the widow, as the man left the shop. "A'n't I making my fortune? Now go on; I'm as eager about the liver as my own cat." "Well, the great object is to increase the size of the geese's livers, that is, to bring on a regular liver complaint; and, to effect this, they put the poor animals in a hot closet, next the kitchen fire-cram the food into their mouths through a funnel, and give them plenty of water to drink. This produces the disease; and the livers of the geese, when they are killed, very often weigh three or four pounds, while the animals them selves are mere skeletons." "And the French eat those liver complaints?" interrupted the widow, making a face. livers in Montpelier, and was very proud of it. My friend knew that he could not annoy him more than by preventing his success: so, having a large quantity of Cheltenham salts with him, he used every morning to put a quantity of them in the water which the geese were given to drink. This had the same effect upon them as it has upon men and women; and, instead of becoming more diseased every day, the geese recovered their health and spirits. The Frenchman crammed and crammed, made his closet still hotter, and sacre-bleu'd, and actually tore his hair, because his geese would be well and hearty; but, the more he tried to make them ill, the more salts were given to them by the doctor, who gained his point and his revenge.' "Well, that's a funny story, doctor; and, since you know how to cure it, the first time I meet with a sick goose, I'll send him to you." "Many thanks; but as it is, there's plenty of geese to send for the doctor." "That's true enough; and now Master Jack, you 've had quite enough for your penny, and I won't allow Ben to be kept waiting any longer." "You are not going to tell any more stories, doctor?" said I. "Why, you mud-larking vagabond, you do n't mean to say that I 've told stories? Be off with you! And, I say, as you pass round the corner, just tell Tom that I 'm coming home directly." "Won't that be a story, dector?" said I, as I went out of the door. I heard them both laugh, but I did not hear what they said. CHAPTER XII. prefer a suit to old Nanny, and procure a new suit of clothes. The advantage of being well dressed-you may walk out with the ladies The reader must not give me too much credit, when I tell him that, ever since I had been under the tuition of Peter Anderson, I had quite a craving to go to church. Although what I had gained from his precepts and explanations had increased my desire, still I must acknowledge that the strongest reason for my being so anxious was, that my mother would not take me, and did take Virginia. Further, my curiosity was excited by my absolute ignorance of what the church service consist ed; I had heard the bells toll, and, as I sauntered by, would step and listen to the organ and the singing. I would some times wait and see the people coming out; and then I could not help comparing my ragged dress with their clean and gay attire. This wish continually worried me; but the more I reflected, the more impossible it appeared to be that I should be able to gratify it. How could I possibly go to church in my tattered and dirty clothes-and what chance had I of getting others? I certainly gained, at an average, eighteen pence per week, but I saved nothing. Would my mother give me clothes? No, that I was sure she would not; for she grudged me even the little victuals which I did apply for. I thought this matter over and over as I lay in bed. Ben had no money. Anderson I could not ask for it. I thought that I would apply to Dr. Tadpole, but I was afraid. At last, it came into my head that I had better first ascertain how much money I should require before I took further measures. The next attended how much money I should have to pay for a pair of morning I went to a fitting-out shop, and asked the lad who blue trowsers, waistcoat, and jacket. The lad told me that I might have a very nice suit for twenty-two shillings. Twentytwo shillings! What an enormous sum it appeared to me then; and then there was a straw hat to buy, and a pair of shoes and stockings. I inquired the price of these last articles, and found that my dress could not be made complete under thirty three shillings. I was quite in despair, for the sum appeared to be a fortune. I sat down to calculate how long it would take me to save up so much money, at sixpence a week, which was all that I could afford; but, at that time, never having learned any thing of figures, all I could make of it was, that it was so long a time as to be beyond my calculation. It was Saturday evening-I sat down on the steps of the landing-place, very melancholy, thinking that to-morrow was Sunday, and abandoning all hopes of ever going to church, when a Thames fisherman, of the name of Freemax, who used to assist him on the Saturday night to moor his coble off lived at Greenwich, and with whom I was acquainted-for I the landing-place, and hang up his nets to dry-called out to |