so he is," replied Bessy. "I'm not his daughter, although I call
him father."

"Indeed! then whose daughter are you? and who is the old lady upstairs?"

"The old lady upstairs is the widow of the pilot with whom father served
his time. Her husband was lost at sea, and she keeps father's house.
Father picked me up at sea, and has taken care of me ever since."

"Then you don't remember your own parents?"

"No, I recollect nothing till I found myself in this house. Father says
I'm a Dutchman, because it was a Dutch ship or a Dutch boat which I was
taken out of."

"And how long was that ago?"

"Nine years ago. I am now, I believe, about ten years old."

Bessy then catechised me relative to my own family, and I had not
answered all her questions when Bramble came downstairs.

"Bessy, dear, we must have the doctor to look at that leg again. I'm
afeard that it will never get well. Missus is too old to shake it off."

"Shall I go now, father?"

"Yes, child, go now, for she's in great pain with it; and Tom, you go
with Bessy and take care of her. But, before you go, give me some 'baccy
and the odds and ends."

As soon as Bessy had put the tobacco-pipes, some spirits, a rummer and
water on the table, and the spittoon at his feet, she put on her bonnet,
and off we set to the doctor's house, about half a mile distant. I was
soon on intimate terms with Bessy: there was something so frank and
winning about her, such perfect honesty of character, that it was
impossible not to like her. We delivered our message, returned home,
and, being very tired, I was glad to go to bed. Bessy showed me my room,
which was very comfortable, and as soon as I laid my head on the pillow
I was fast asleep.

I was awakened the next morning by a knocking at the door by little
Bessy; it was broad daylight, and I dressed myself and went downstairs,
where I found her very busy putting everything in order.

"It was I knocked," said little Bessy; "I thought you would like to come
and help me."

"And so I will," replied I; "what shall I do?"

"Oh, there's plenty to do now that Mrs. Maddox is ill, and you and
father are come back--almost too much for a little girl like me. Will
you go to the pump and fetch the pails full of water, for they are too
heavy for me?"

I did as she wished. "Anything else, Bessy?" said I.

"Oh, yes, plenty. You're very good-natured, Tom, and I'm so glad you're
come."

Bessy and I were fully employed for nearly an