a pound against bad
times; but she did not see what she was to do with the boy. Almost
all the other lads of the village, of the same age, were already in
the fields; and Mrs. Whitney felt that she could not much longer
keep him idle. The question was, what was she to do with him? That
he should not go into the fields she was fully determined, and her
great wish was to apprentice him to some trade; but as her father
had recently died, she did not see how she was to set about it.

That evening, at dinner, Mrs. Ellison told the squire of the scene
in the school room.

"White must go," he said, "that is quite evident. I have seen, for
some time, that we wanted a younger man, more abreast of the times
than White is; but I don't like turning him adrift altogether. He
has been here upwards of thirty years. What am I to do with him?"

Mrs. Ellison could make no suggestion; but she, too, disliked the
thought of anyone in the village being turned adrift upon the
world.

"The very thing!" the squire exclaimed, suddenly "We will make him
clerk. Old Peters has long been past his work. The old man must be
seventy-five, if he's a day, and his voice quavers so that it makes
the boys laugh. We will pension him off. He can have his cottage
rent free, and three or four shillings a week. I don't suppose it
will be for many years. As for White, he cannot be much above
sixty. He will fill the place very well.

"I am sure the vicar will agree, for he has been speaking to me,
about Peters being past his work, for the last five years. What do
you say, my dear?"

"I think that will do very well, William," Mrs. Ellison replied,
"and will get over the difficulty altogether."

"So you see, wife, for once that boy of Widow Whitney's was not to
blame. I told you you took those stories on trust against him too
readily. The boy's a bit of a pickle, no doubt; and I very near
gave him a thrashing, myself, a fortnight since, for on going up to
the seven-acre field, I found him riding bare backed on that young
pony I intended for Kate."

"You don't say so, William!" Mrs. Ellison exclaimed, greatly
shocked. "I never heard of such an impudent thing. I really wonder
you didn't thrash him."

"Well, perhaps I should have done so, my dear; but the fact is, I
caught sight of him some time before he saw me, and he was really
sitting her so well that I could not find it in my heart to call
out. He was really doing me a service. The pony had never bee