id not miss much, when his parents took him, but _you_ had become a part
of my home. Well, well!'

No doubt there was a great deal of hidden consolation in these last words;
for Harson's face soon recovered its usual cheerful character, and he
steadily trudged toward his home.

A few words respecting the other characters, and our task is ended.

Grosket was induced by Mr. Colton to remove to the country, where an
intercourse with different and better men than those with whom he had
hitherto associated tended in a great measure to soften his character, and
temper his fierce passions--the offspring of persecution and suffering.

Mrs. Blossom, at first alarmed by the fear of the law, grew penitent and
rigorous in the discharge of her moral obligations to society; but the Law
being a notorious sleepy-head, and never appearing to have its eyes open,
she gradually fell into her old habits, reoepened her 'seminary for lambs;'
and from the great quantity of her disciples which frequent the
thoroughfares of the city at present, I should judge is getting along
prosperously. Mr. Snork was extremely desirous of becoming a partner in
the concern, and made several overtures to that effect, which might have
been accepted by the lady, had he not objected to being deprived of his
eye-sight, and seated at a corner to receive pennies from passers-by. It
was in vain that the lady represented to him that this would be the making
of their respective fortunes; that blind beggars, particularly if they
were remarkably disgusting, as was the case with him, had been known to
retire with handsome fortunes, and that some of them even bought snug
little farms in the country, and kept a horse and 'shay.' Mr. Snork
however, was obstinate; his proposals were accordingly rejected, and he
returned disconsolately to his abode, which was now lonely, his wife
having paid a visit to the penitentiary, for the benefit of the country
air.

The widow, Mrs. Chowles, still lives in her quiet, blinking little house,
as cheerful and contented as ever; as happy as ever to hear Harry's heavy
step, and to see his honest face in his old corner in her parlor; and
although he is no longer accompanied by Spite, who has grown old and
rheumatic, so that he is unable to stir from the chimney-corner, where he
passes his time in crabbed solitude, except when he turns up his dim eyes
to his old master, as he hears his voice, and feels his caressing hand on
his head: all else