est.
When I came back, after the providential escape I have mentioned in the
last chapter, Ben had narrated to him the conduct of my mother; and a
day or two afterward, when the frost had broken up, and they were both
sitting down, basking in the sun, which was shining bright, I went up to
them.

"Well, Jack," said old Ben, "are you ready for another trip down the
river?"

"I hope I shall earn my sixpence at an easier rate, if I do go," replied
I.

"It was wonderful that you were saved, boy," said Peter Anderson, "and
you ought to very thankful to the Omniscient."

I stared; for I had never heard that term applied to the Diety.

"You mean God, don't you?" said I, at last; for I thought he couldn't
mean any other.

"Yes, boy; has not your mother taught you that name?"

"She never would teach me anything. All the prayers I know I have stolen
from my sister."

"And what do you know, Jack?"

"I know 'Our Father,' and 'Now I lay down to sleep,' and I believe that
is all."

"How old are you now, Jack?"

"I am three years older than Virginia; she, I heard my mother say, was
six the other day--then I suppose I'm nine."

"Do you know your letters?"

"Yes, some of them; I learned them on the boats."

"But you cannot read?"

"No, not a word."

"Has your mother ever told you of the Bible?"

"Not me; but I've heard her tell Virginia about it."

"Don't you ever go to church?"

"No, never. Mother takes little Virginia; but she says I'm too ragged
and ungenteel."

"Why does your mother neglect you? I suppose you are a bad boy?"

"That he's not," interrupted Ben; "that's not the reason. But we must
not talk about that now; only I must take Jack's part. Go on, Peter."

"Would you like to learn to read, Jack?" said Anderson; "and would you
like to hear me read the Bible to you, until you can read it yourself?"

"Indeed I would," replied I. "There's many of the boys on the beach,
smaller than me, who can both read and write."

Peter Anderson then told me that he would teach me, provided I behaved
myself well. He desired that I would come to his cabin every afternoon
at six o'clock, a time which interfered little with my avocation of
"Poor Jack," and that he would give me a lesson. Before he had finished
talking, one of the lieutenants of the hospital sent for him; and Ben
remained behind, to point out to me how valuable my knowing how to read
and write might one day prove to me.

"I've no larning myself,