t, provided he was successful
in his search. Sometimes, too, he would go fishing, and seldom came
home without a pretty well-filled basket. Then he would look after
seamen's boats, and place stools for passengers to walk along when the
water was low; and when the weather was bad, and few persons were going
afloat, he would go on errands, or scamper alongside gentlemen's horses,
ready to hold them when they dismounted. He had such a merry, facetious
manner about him, that he generally managed to pick up twice as much as
anybody else engaged in the same sort of occupation.

This sort of work, however, was very well for Bill while he was a little
fellow; but it was clear that it would not do for him when he should
grow bigger. His father and mother often talked over what Bill was to
do when that time came.

Tom Sunnyside wished to send him to sea after his two elder brothers,
for his next two boys were with him in his boat. Molly wanted to keep
him at home to help her in her trade; Bill was ready to do whatever they
wished. He would serve his country afloat, and do his best to become an
admiral, or he would sell apples all his life.

Nothing, however, was settled; and Bill continued to mud-lark, catch
fish, run errands, look after boats, and hold gentlemen's horses, till
he was getting to be a big lad.

At length a heavy affliction and trial overtook Mrs Sunnyside--Bill's
mother. The wherry, with his father and two of his brothers, went off
one November morning when it was blowing hard, with a passenger to a
ship lying at Spithead. They put their fare all right on board,
received payment, and shoved off from the ship. The gale increased, the
weather thickened; hour after hour passed away, and the expected ones
did not return to their home. Three days afterwards, a pilot vessel
brought in an oar, and a board, with the rising sun painted on it.

The _Rising Sun_ was the name of Tom Sunnyside's boat. Such was the
only clue to his fate. Neither he, nor his boys, nor his boat, were
ever seen again. The widow bowed her head, but she had no time to
indulge in grief, for she had still several younger children to support.

She sat at her stall, and did her best to sell her apples. Bill exerted
himself more than ever. His two elder brothers were, as has been said,
on board men-of-war. The next two surviving children were girls, and
could do little to help themselves or their mother. And now, for the
first time