er to the parish
priest, to whom he give a detailed account of all that our hero and the
poorer children of the school had suffered. In addition to this, he
went among the more substantial farmers of the neighborhood, whose
cooperation he succeeded in obtaining, for the laudable purpose of
driving the tyrant out of the parish.

Jemmy, who still lived at the "House of Entertainment," on hearing what
they intended to do, begged Mr. O'Brien, to allow him, provided the
master should be removed from the school, to decline prosecuting him.
"He has been cruel to me, no doubt," he added; "still I cannot forget
that his cruelty has been the means of changing my condition in life
so much for the better. If he is put out of the parish it will be
punishment enough; and, to say the truth, sir, I can now forgive
everybody. Maybe, had I been still neglected I might punish him; but,
in the meantime, to show him and the world that I didn't deserve his
severity, I forgive him."

Mr. O'Brien was not disposed to check a sentiment that did the boy's
heart so much honor; he waited on the Colonel the next morning,
acquainted him with Jemmy's wishes, and the indictment was quashed
immediately after the schoolmaster's removal from his situation.

Our hero's personal appearance was by this time incredibly changed for
the better. His countenance, naturally expressive of feeling, firmness,
and intellect, now appeared to additional advantage; so did his whole
person, when dressed in a decent suit of black. No man acquainted with
life can be ignorant of the improvement which genteel apparel produce in
the carriage, tone of thought, and principles of an individual. It
gives a man confidence, self-respect, and a sense of equality with
his companions; it inspires him with energy, independence, delicacy
of sentiment, courtesy of manner, and elevation of language. The face
becomes manly, bold, and free; the brow open, and the eye clear; there
is no slinking through narrow lanes and back streets: but, on the
contrary, the smoothly dressed man steps out with a determination not
to spare the earth, or to walk as if he trod on eggs or razors. No; he
brushes onward; is the first to accost his friends; gives a careless
bow to this, a bluff nod to that, and a patronizing "how dy'e do" to a
third, who is worse dressed than himself. Trust me, kind reader, that
good clothes are calculated to advance a man in life nearly as well
as good principles, especially in