irmly on his head, and performed some of the difficult exploits of a
tumbler; and when he had done all this, "Come, gentlemen," said he,
"shall I sing you a song, or pray you a prayer? I'll suit your fancy
with either for a sixpence."

"No, no; none of your prayers, you little son of the old one," said one
of the men; "we shall have your master with the cloven foot after us
before we get to the shore: you may sing us a song, though, only let it
be a decent one."

"Oh, well gentlemen, suit yourselves--I am a Jack at all trades, you
know--that is to say, at any of the trades my father, that is dead and
gone, followed before me."

"Trades! your father followed no trade, but the trade of the
light-fingered gentry."

"I beg your pardon, sir; my dad was a noted man in his day:--a
carpenter, joiner, tooth-drawer, barber, gardener, studying-master,
dancing-master, whipping-master, fiddling-master, school-master,
music-master, play-actor, &c. &c.--all of which I am yours gentlemen
to command. Now for the song:--there is Erie, and my song is Perry's
glorious victory." He then half sung, half recited, a ballad recounting
Perry's gallant exploits on the lake.

It was impossible for a compassionate being to see the little outcast
without an emotion of pity; or not to be affected by the weak and almost
infantine tones of his voice.

"How old are you, child?" asked Mr. Sackville, as the boy concluded his
song, and opened his mouth to catch the sixpence that was tossed to him.

"How old? I do not justly remember; but there is my age set down in our
family Bible, as my father called it, by his own honored hand, on the
day he got through, as I have heard him say, his fourth term of service
at the state-castle."

Mr. Sackville took from the child's hand a filthy little dream-book, on
the title-page of which was scrawled, and scarcely legible,--"Tristram
McPhelan, born in the Bridewell, city of New-York, on Friday--bad luck
to him--March 1807."

"You are then but eleven years old."

"Yes sir; and in that time I have seen more of life than many of my
betters twice my age. I have been in every state in the Union, and
in every city of every state. I have been in six alms-houses, two
workhouses, and ten jails, on my own account, besides the privilege of
visiting my father in two different state prisons. While my father lived
we travelled in company, and now I am obliged (he concluded, bowing to
Mr. Sackville,) to put up with what