in the sight of
our heavenly Father, and as I wish my children continually to bear in
mind that it is this great Being, whom they are commanded by their
Saviour to imitate, I trust that the happiness of their fellow-beings,
whether high or low, will be of equal importance in their view."

Thus encouraged by the kindness of the mother, and the eager looks of
the children, who stationed themselves close to her, Mrs. Barton began
her simple and brief story.

"I never knew my parents," she said. "I was, as I have been told, given
by a gipsey woman to a magistrate of the town of Lichfield, in England,
when I was three years old. The woman was sick, and died shortly after.
She declared herself ignorant of my parentage. She believed I had been
stolen in London, by some of her tribe, about a year before; and said
that I had been committed to her charge for some months, I had a
necklace, with a gold clasp with initials, which I had been permitted
to retain; and the worthy magistrate, in the hope that this might lead
to a discovery, advertised me, with a description of the necklace; but
no one appearing to claim me, he finally placed me in the Lichfield
alms-house.

"When I was seven years old, don't laugh at me, Miss Julia, I was called
a beauty. My skin was as smooth as yours; and my hair hung in curls
about my neck and face. At this time a whimsical gentleman, who had a
fancy to bring up a wife to his own liking, came to the alms-house: he
was pleased with my appearance, and selected me. He taught me himself,
and procured teachers for me, and from morning till night I was poring
over hard tasks: this lasted for three years, and perhaps Mr. Leslie,
for that was the gentleman's name, might have remained constant to his
purpose, but then I took the small-pox; and after lying at the gates of
death for weeks, I recovered, but with my face blotched and seamed as
you see it. For many months my eye-sight and hearing were gone, and when
I could see, my eyes had this cast in them, which looks as if I were
born cross-eyed.

"No one could blame Mr. Leslie for giving me up. I am sure I never did.
He placed me with a poor widow, and paid my lodging with her till I was
one and twenty, and gave me a draft on him for a hundred pounds, which
was to be paid when I came of age. With Mrs. Gordon I was happier than I
had ever been in my life. My book tasks I never had liked, but I sewed
or spun with Mrs. Gordon, from morning till night, withou