neighbor is John
Stubbins, and the only man just in our neighborhood who can read the
newspaper. It is not often he gets a newspaper; for it is not the like
of us that can have newspapers and bread too at the same time in our
houses. But now and then he begs an old one, partly torn, at the
baker's, and reads it to us of a Sunday night. So once in two or three
weeks, we hear something of what is going on in the world--something
about Corn Laws, and the Duke of Wellington, and Oregon, and India, and
Ireland, and other parts of England. We heard tell a while ago that the
poor people would not have to make so many nails for a loaf of bread
much longer, because Sir Robert Peel and some other men were going to
take off the port-locks and other taxes, and let us buy bread of them
that could sell it the cheapest. When we heard this talked of, without
knowing the truth of it, John Stubbins took a penny and went to the
White Hart and bought a drink of beer, and then the landlady let him
look into the newspaper which she keeps for her customers. When he came
back, he told us a good deal of what was going on, and said he was sure
the times would be better one of these days.

Here he was interrupted by John Stubbins himself, who, hearing some
strange voices mingling in earnest conversation in the other end of the
building, came round to see who was there. With the entrance of this
John Stubbins, I must turn over another leaf of my journal.

* * * * *

SECOND VISIT TO THE LITTLE NAILER.

The interest created in the United States by the above account of my
first meeting with Josiah, encouraged me to propose that the children of
America should, by a subscription of a half dime each, contribute as
much money as would clothe and educate him for a year. The proposition
met with a cordial response, and one hundred dollars were soon collected
for this purpose.

At the time I first threw out the proposition in regard to the education
of the little Nailer, I hardly believed that they could so abolish space
and dry up the ocean intervening between them and such a young sufferer,
as they have done. Bless your hearts, children, I reckoned you would
have a merry time of it about Christmas, and have your pockets filled
with all sorts of nice things, that would come by way of affectionate
remembrance from grand-papa down to the fourth cousin; and you would
bring to mind lots of boys and girls that had no one t