r to keep her spirits up, and gave her something to
drink, and by degrees she became fond of it. Her husband was killed by
a fall from the mast-head; and she loved him still and took more to
liquor, and that was her ruin. She don't drink now, because she don't
feel as she used to do; she cares about nothing; she is much to be
pitied, poor thing, for she is still young, and very pretty. It's only
four years ago when I saw her come out of church, and thought what a
happy couple they would be."

"Where are her father and mother?"

"Both dead. Don't let's talk about it any more. It's bad enough when a
man drinks; but if a woman takes to it, it is all over with her; but
some people's feelings are so strong, that they fly to it directly to
drown care and misery. Put up the book, Peter; I can't look at it any
more to-night; we'll go to bed."

Joey every day gave more satisfaction to his employer, and upon his own
responsibility, allowed his friend the sailor lad to open an account as
soon as his money was all gone. Finding that the vessel was going up
the river to load, Joey determined to write a few lines to the McShanes,
to allay the uneasiness which he knew his absence must have occasioned,
Jim Paterson promising to put the letter in the post as soon as he
arrived at London.

Our hero simply said, "My dear sir, I am quite well, and have found
employment, so pray do not grieve about me, as I never shall forget your
kindness.--Joey McShane."

On the following Sunday Joey was dressed in his sailor's suit, and
looked very well in it. He was not only a very good-looking, but a
gentlemanlike boy in his manners. He went to church, and after church
he walked out to the abode of his little friend, Emma Phillips. She ran
out to meet him, was delighted with his new clothes, and took him by the
hand to present him to her mother. Mrs Phillips was a quiet-looking,
pleasing woman, and the old lady was of a very venerable appearance.
They made many inquiries about his friends, and Joey continued in the
same story, that he and his father had been poachers, that he had been
discovered and obliged to go away, and that he went with the consent of
his parents. They were satisfied with his replies, and prepossessed in
his favour; and as Joey was so patronised by her little daughter, he was
desired to renew his visits, which he occasionally did on Sundays, but
preferred meeting Emma on the road from school; and the two children (