e lived, and where the parish officers had
taken care of him. This gentleman was still alive; and there she heard
that my youngest daughter and eldest son was dead also; but that my
youngest son was alive, and was at that time about seventeen years old,
and that he was put out apprentice by the kindness and charity of his
uncle, but to a mean trade, and at which he was obliged to work very
hard.

Amy was so curious in this part that she went immediately to see him,
and found him all dirty and hard at work. She had no remembrance at all
of the youth, for she had not seen him since he was about two years old;
and it was evident he could have no knowledge of her.

However, she talked with him, and found him a good, sensible, mannerly
youth; that he knew little of the story of his father or mother, and had
no view of anything but to work hard for his living; and she did not
think fit to put any great things into his head, lest it should take him
off of his business, and perhaps make him turn giddy-headed and be good
for nothing; but she went and found out that kind man, his benefactor,
who had put him out, and finding him a plain, well-meaning, honest, and
kind-hearted man, she opened her tale to him the easier. She made a long
story, how she had a prodigious kindness for the child, because she had
the same for his father and mother; told him that she was the
servant-maid that brought all of them to their aunt's door, and run away
and left them; that their poor mother wanted bread, and what came of her
after she would have been glad to know. She added that her circumstances
had happened to mend in the world, and that, as she was in condition,
so she was disposed to show some kindness to the children if she could
find them out.

He received her with all the civility that so kind a proposal demanded,
gave her an account of what he had done for the child, how he had
maintained him, fed and clothed him, put him to school, and at last put
him out to a trade. She said he had indeed been a father to the child.
"But, sir," says she, "'tis a very laborious, hard-working trade, and he
is but a thin, weak boy." "That's true," says he; "but the boy chose the
trade, and I assure you I gave L20 with him, and am to find him clothes
all his apprenticeship; and as to its being a hard trade," says he,
"that's the fate of his circumstances, poor boy. I could not well do
better for him."

"Well, sir, as you did all for him in charity," say