on the grass plot. Then is the sweet
picture of reviving industry and eager innocence always new to me. The
birds' notes so often heard, still waken new ideas: the herds are led
into the fields: the peasant bends his eye upon his plough. Every thing
lives and moves; and in every creature's mind it seems as it were
morning. Towards evening I begin to roam abroad: from the park into the
meadows. And sometimes, returning, I pause to look at the village boys
and girls as they play. Then do I bless their innocence, and pray to
Heaven, those laughing, thoughtless hours, could be their lot for ever.

_Bar._ This is excellent!--But these are summer amusements.--The winter!
the winter!

_Mrs. H._ Why for ever picture winter like old age, torpid, tedious, and
uncheerful? Winter has its own delights: this is the time to instruct
and mend the mind by reading and reflection. At this season, too, I
often take my harp, and amuse myself by playing or singing the little
favourite airs that remind me of the past, or solicit hope for the
future.

_Bar._ Happy indeed are they who can thus create, and vary their own
pleasures and employments.

_Enter PETER._

_Pet._ Well--well--Pray now--I was ordered--I can keep him back no
longer--He will come in.

_Enter TOBIAS, forcing his way._

_Tob._ I must, good Heaven, I must!

_Mrs. H._ [_Confused._] I have no time at present--I--I--You see I am
not alone.

_Tob._ Oh! this good gentleman will forgive me.

_Bar._ What do you want?

_Tob._ To return thanks. Even charity is a burden if one may not be
grateful for it.

_Mrs. H._ To-morrow, good Tobias; to-morrow.

_Bar._ Nay, no false delicacy, madam. Allow him to vent the feelings of
his heart; and permit me to witness a scene which convinces me, even
more powerfully than your conversation, how nobly you employ your time.
Speak, old man.

_Tob._ Oh, lady, that each word which drops from my lips, might call
down a blessing on your head! I lay forsaken and dying in my hut: not
even bread nor hope remained. Oh! then you came in the form of an angel,
brought medicines to me; and your sweet consoling voice did more than
those. I am recovered. To-day, for the first time, I have returned
thanks in presence of the sun: and now I come to you, noble lady. Let me
drop my tears upon your charitable hand. For your sake, Heaven has
blessed my latter days. The Stranger too, who lives near me, has given
me a purse of gold to buy my son'