think
more seriously than he had ever yet done, and grew to abhor
poaching, not merely from fear, but from principle.

We shall soon see whether poaching Giles always got off so
successfully. Here we have seen that worldly prosperity is no sure
sign of goodness. Next month we may, perhaps, see that the "triumph
of the wicked is short;" for I then promise to give the second part
of the Poacher, together with the entertaining story of the Widow
Brown's Apple-tree.

PART II.

HISTORY OF WIDOW BROWN'S APPLE-TREE.

I think my readers got so well acquainted last month with black
Giles the poacher, that they will not expect this month to hear any
great good, either of Giles himself, his wife Rachel, or any of
their family. I am sorry to expose their tricks, but it is their
fault, not mine. If I pretend to speak about people at all, I must
tell the truth. I am sure, if folks would but turn about and mend,
it would be a thousand times pleasanter to me to write their
histories; for it is no comfort to tell of any body's faults. If the
world would but grow good, I should be glad enough to publish it:
but till it really becomes so, I must go on describing it as it is;
otherwise, I should only mislead my readers, instead of instructing
them. It is the duty of a faithful historian to relate the evil with
the good.

As to Giles and his boys, I am sure old Widow Brown has good reason
to remember their dexterity. Poor woman! she had a fine little bed
of onions in her neat and well-kept garden; she was very fond of her
onions, and many a rheumatism has she caught by kneeling down to
weed them in a damp day, notwithstanding the little flannel cloak
and the bit of an old mat which Madam Wilson gave her, because the
old woman would needs weed in wet weather. Her onions she always
carefully treasured up for her winter's store; for an onion makes a
little broth very relishing, and is indeed the only savory thing
poor people are used to get. She had also a small orchard,
containing about a dozen apple-trees, with which in a good year she
had been known to make a couple of barrels of cider, which she sold
to her landlord toward paying her rent, besides having a little keg
which she was able to keep back for her own drinking. Well! would
you believe it, Giles and his boys marked both onions and apples for
their own; indeed, a man who stole so many rabbits from the
warrener, was likely enough to steal onions for sauce. One day, when
t