The History of Sandford and Merton Part 6

"It was indeed Hamet, who stood before them in the same mean attire which he had worn six months before, when the first generosity of the merchant had redeemed him from slavery. Nothing could equal the astonishment and grat.i.tude of Francisco; but as they were then surrounded by a large concourse of people, he desired Hamet to go with him to the house of one of his friends, and when they were alone he embraced him tenderly, and asked by what extraordinary chance he had thus been enslaved a second time, adding a kind of reproach for his not informing him of his captivity.

"'I bless G.o.d for that captivity,' answered Hamet, 'since it has given me an opportunity of showing that I was not altogether undeserving of your kindness, and of preserving the life of that dear youth, that I value a thousand times beyond my own. But it is now fit that my generous patron should be informed of the whole truth. Know, then, that when the unfortunate Hamet was taken by your galleys, his aged father shared his captivity--it was his fate which so often made me shed those tears which first attracted the notice of your son; and when your unexampled bounty had set me free, I flew to find the Christian who had purchased him. I represented to him that I was young and vigorous, while he was aged and infirm; I added, too, the gold which I had received from your bounty; in a word, I prevailed upon the Christian to send back my father in that s.h.i.+p which was intended for me, without acquainting him with the means of his freedom; since that time I have staid here to discharge the debt of nature and grat.i.tude, a willing slave----'"

At this part of the story, Harry, who had with difficulty restrained himself before, burst into such a fit of crying, and Tommy himself was so much affected, that Mr Barlow told them they had better leave off for the present and go to some other employment. They therefore went into the garden to resume the labour of their house, but found, to their unspeakable regret, that during their absence an accident had happened which had entirely destroyed all their labours; a violent storm of wind and rain had risen that morning, which, blowing full against the walls of the newly-constructed house, had levelled it with the ground. Tommy could scarcely refrain from crying when he saw the ruins lying around; but Harry, who bore the loss with more composure, told him not to mind it, for it could easily be repaired, and they would build it stronger the next time.

Harry then went up to the spot, and after examining it some time, told Tommy that he believed he had found out the reason of their misfortune.

"What is it?" said Tommy. "Why," said Harry, "it is only because we did not drive these stakes, which are to bear the whole weight of our house, far enough into the ground; and, therefore, when the wind blew against the flat side of it with so much violence, it could not resist. And now I remember to have seen the workman, when they begin a building, dig a considerable way into the ground to lay the foundation fast; and I should think that, if we drove these stakes a great way into the ground, it would produce the same effect, and we should have nothing to fear from any future storms."

Mr Barlow then came into the garden, and the two boys showed him their misfortune, and asked him whether he did not think that driving the stakes further in would prevent such an accident for the future. Mr Barlow told them he thought it would; and that, as they were too short to reach to the top of the stakes, he would a.s.sist them. He then went and brought a wooden mallet, with which he struck the tops of the stakes, and drove them so fast into the ground that there was no longer any danger of their being shaken by the weather. Harry and Tommy then applied themselves with so much a.s.siduity to their work that they in a very short time had repaired all the damage, and advanced it as far as it had been before.

The next thing that was necessary to be done, was putting on a roof, for hitherto they had constructed nothing but the walls. For this purpose they took several long poles, which they had laid across their building where it was most narrow, and upon these they placed straw in considerable quant.i.ties, so that they now imagined they had constructed a house that would completely screen them from the weather. But in this, unfortunately, they were again mistaken; for a very violent shower of rain coming just as they had finished their building, they took shelter under it, and remarked for some time, with infinite pleasure, how dry and comfortable it kept them; but at last the straw that covered it being completely soaked through, and the water having no vent to run off, by reason of the flatness of the roof, the rain began to penetrate in considerable quant.i.ties.

For some time Harry and Tommy bore the inconvenience, but it increased so much that they were soon obliged to leave it and seek for shelter in the house. When they were thus secured, they began again to consider the affair of the house, and Tommy said that it surely must be because they had not put straw enough upon it. "No," said Harry, "I think that cannot be the reason; I rather imagine that it must be owing to our roof lying so flat; for I have observed that all houses that I have ever seen have their roofs in a shelving posture, by which means the wet continually runs off from them and falls to the ground; whereas ours, being quite flat, detained almost all the rain that fell upon it, which must necessarily soak deeper and deeper into the straw, till it penetrated quite through."

They therefore agreed to remedy this defect; and for this purpose they took several poles of an equal length, the one end of which they fastened to the side of the house, and let the other two ends meet in the middle, by which means they formed a roof exactly like that which we commonly see upon buildings; they also took several poles, which they tied across the others, to keep them firm in their places, and give the roof additional strength; and lastly, they covered the whole with straw or thatch; and for fear the thatch should be blown away, they stuck several pegs in different places, and put small pieces of stick crosswise from peg to peg, to keep the straw in its place. When this was done they found they had a very tolerable house; only the sides, being formed of brushwood alone, did not sufficiently exclude the wind. To remedy this inconvenience, Harry, who was chief architect, procured some clay, and mixing it up with water, to render it sufficiently soft, he daubed it all over the walls, both within and without, by which means the wind was excluded and the house rendered much warmer than before.

CHAPTER IV.

The Boys' Garden--The Crocodile--The Farmer's Wife--How to make Cider--The Bailiffs take possession of the Farmer's Furniture--Tommy pays the Farmer's Debt--Conclusion of the Story of the Grateful Turk--The three Bears--Tommy and the Monkey--Habits of the Monkey--Tommy's Robin Redbreast--Is killed by a Cat--The Cat punished--The Laplanders--Story of a Cure of the Gout.

Some time had now elapsed since the seeds of the wheat were sown, and they began to shoot so vigorously that the blade of the corn appeared green above the ground, and increased every day in strength. Tommy went to look at it every morning, and remarked its gradual increase with the greatest satisfaction. "Now," said he to Harry, "I think we should soon be able to live if we were upon a desert island. Here is a house to shelter us from the weather, and we shall soon have some corn for food."

"Yes," answered Harry; "but there are a great many things still wanting to enable us to make bread."

Mr Barlow had a very large garden, and an orchard full of the finest fruit-trees; and he had another piece of ground where he used to sow seeds in order to raise trees, and then they were carefully planted out in beds till they were big enough to be moved into the orchard and produce fruit. Tommy had often eaten of the fruit of the orchard, and thought it delicious, and this led him to think that it would be a great improvement to their house if he had a few trees that he might set near it, and which would shelter it from the sun and hereafter produce fruit; so he asked Mr Barlow to give him a couple of trees, and Mr Barlow told him to go into the nursery and take his choice. Accordingly Tommy went, and chose out two of the strongest-looking trees he could find, which, with Harry's a.s.sistance, he transplanted into the garden in the following manner:--They both took their spades and very carefully dug the trees up without injuring their roots; then they dug two large holes in the place where they chose the trees should stand, and very carefully broke the earth to pieces, that it might lie light upon the roots; then the tree was placed in the middle of the hole, and Tommy held it upright while Harry gently threw the earth over the roots, which he trod down with his feet in order to cover them well. Lastly, he stuck a large stake in the ground and tied the tree to it, from the fear that the wintry wind might injure it, or perhaps entirely blow it out of the ground.

Nor did they bound their attention here. There was a little spring of water which burst forth from the upper ground in the garden, and ran down the side of the hill in a small stream. Harry and Tommy laboured very hard for several days to form a new channel, to lead the water near the roots of their trees, for it happened to be hot and dry weather, and they feared their trees might perish from the want of moisture.

Mr Barlow saw them employed in this manner with the greatest satisfaction. He told them that in many parts of the world the excessive heat burned up the ground so much that nothing would grow unless the soil was watered in that manner. "There is," said he, "a country in particular, called Egypt, which has always been famous for its fertility, and for the quant.i.ty of corn that grows in it, which is naturally watered in the following extraordinary manner:--There is a great river called the Nile, which flows through the whole extent of the country; the river, at a particular time of the year, begins to overflow its banks, and, as the whole country is flat, it very soon covers it all with its waters. These waters remain in this situation several weeks, before they have entirely drained off; and when that happens, they leave the soil so rich that everything that is planted in it flourishes and produces with the greatest abundance."

"Is not that the country, sir," said Harry, "where that cruel animal the crocodile is found?" "Yes," answered Mr Barlow. "What is that, sir?"

said Tommy. "It is an animal," answered Mr Barlow, "that lives sometimes upon the land, sometimes in the water. It comes originally from an egg, which the old one lays and buries in the sand. The heat of the sun then warms it during several days, and at last a young crocodile is hatched.

This animal is at first very small; it has a long body and four short legs, which serve it both to walk with upon the land and to swim with in the waters. It has, besides, a long tail, or rather the body is extremely long, and gradually grows thinner till it ends in a point. Its shape is exactly like that of a lizard; or, if you have never seen a lizard, did you never observe a small animal, of some inches long, which lives at the bottom of ditches and ponds?" "Yes, sir, I have," answered Tommy, "and I once caught one with my hand, taking it for a fish; but when I had it near me, I saw it had four little legs, so I threw it into the water again for fear the animal should be hurt." "This animal,"

answered Mr Barlow, "may give you an exact idea of a young crocodile; but as it grows older it gradually becomes bigger, till at last, as I have been informed, it reaches the length of twenty or thirty feet."

"That is very large," said Tommy; "and does it do any harm?" "Yes," said Mr Barlow, "it is a very voracious animal, and devours everything it can seize. It frequently comes out of the water and lives upon the sh.o.r.e, where it resembles a large log of wood; and if any animal unguardedly comes near, it snaps at it on a sudden, and if it can catch the poor creature, devours it." _T._--And does it never devour men? _Mr B._--Sometimes, if it surprises them; but those who are accustomed to meet with them frequently easily escape. They run round in a circle, or turn short on a sudden, by which means the animal is left far behind; because, although he can run tolerably fast in a straight line, the great length of his body prevents him from turning with ease. _T._--This must be a dreadful animal to meet with; is it possible for a man to defend himself against it? _Mr B._--Everything is possible to those that have courage and coolness; therefore many of the inhabitants of those countries carry long spears in their hands, in order to defend themselves from those animals. The crocodile opens his wide voracious jaws in order to devour the man; but the man takes this opportunity and thrusts the point of his spear into the creature's mouth, by which means he is generally killed upon the spot. Nay, I have even heard that some will carry their hardiness so far as to go into the water in order to fight the crocodile there. They take a large splinter of wood about a foot in length, strong in the middle, and sharpened at both ends; to this they tie a long and tough cord. The man who intends to fight the crocodile takes this piece of wood in his right hand, and goes into the river, where he wades till one of these creatures perceives him. As soon as that happens the animal comes up to him to seize him, extending his wide and horrid jaws, which are armed with several rows of pointed teeth; but the man, with the greatest intrepidity, waits for his enemy, and the instant he approaches thrusts his hand, armed with the splinter of wood, into his terrible mouth, which the creature closes directly, and by these means forces the sharp points into each of his jaws, where they stick fast. He is then incapable of doing hurt, and they pull him to the sh.o.r.e by the cord. "Pray, sir," said Tommy, "is this dreadful animal capable of being tamed?" "Yes," answered Mr Barlow; "I believe, as I have before told you, there is no animal that may not be rendered mild and inoffensive by good usage. There are several parts of Egypt where tame crocodiles are kept; these animals, though of the largest size, never do hurt to anything, but suffer every one to approach them, and even little children to play about them and ride securely upon their enormous backs."

This account diverted Tommy very much. He thanked Mr Barlow for giving him this description of the crocodile, and said he should like to see every animal in the world. "That," answered Mr Barlow, "would be extremely difficult, as almost every country produces some kind which is not found in other parts of the world; but if you will be contented to read the descriptions of them which have been written, you may easily gratify your curiosity."

It happened about this time that Tommy and Harry rose early one morning and went to take a long walk before breakfast, as they used frequently to do; they rambled so far that at last they both found themselves tired, and sat down under a hedge to rest. While they were here a very clean and decently-dressed woman pa.s.sed by, who, seeing two little boys sitting by themselves, stopped to look at them; and, after considering them attentively, she said, "You seem, my little dears, to be either tired or to have lost your way." "No, madam," said Harry, "we have not lost our way, but we have walked farther than usual this morning, and we wait here a little while to rest ourselves." "Well," said the woman, "if you will come into my little house--that you see a few yards farther on--you may sit more comfortably; and as my daughter has by this time milked the cows, she shall give you a mess of bread and milk."

Tommy, who was by this time extremely hungry as well as tired, told Harry that he should like to accept the good woman's invitation; so they followed her to a small but clean looking farm-house which stood at a little distance. Here they entered a clean kitchen, furnished with very plain but convenient furniture, and were desired to sit down by a warm and comfortable fire, which was made of turf. Tommy, who had never seen such a fire, could not help inquiring about it, and the good woman told him that poor people like her were unable to purchase coals; "therefore," said she, "we go and pare the surface of the commons, which is full of gra.s.s and heath and other vegetables, together with their roots all matted together; these we dry in small pieces, by leaving them exposed to the summer's sun, and then we bring them home and put them under the cover of a shed, and use them for our fires." "But," said Tommy, "I should think you would hardly have fire enough by these means to dress your dinner; for I have by accident been in my father's kitchen when they were dressing the dinner, and I saw a fire that blazed up to the very top of the chimney." The poor woman smiled at this, and said, "Your father, I suppose, master, is some rich man, who has a great deal of victuals to dress, but we poor people must be more easily contented." "Why," said Tommy, "you must at least want to roast meat every day?" "No," said the poor woman, "we seldom see roast-beef at our house; but we are very well contented if we can have a bit of fat pork every day, boiled in a pot with turnips; and we bless G.o.d that we fare so well, for there are many poor souls, who are as good as we, that can scarcely get a morsel of dry bread."

As they were conversing in this manner, Tommy happened to cast his eyes on one side, and saw a room that was almost filled with apples. "Pray,"

said he, "what can you do with all these apples? I should think you would never be able to eat them, though you were to eat nothing else."

"That is very true," said the woman, "but we make cider of them."

"What!" cried Tommy, "are you able to make that sweet pleasant liquor they call cider? and is it made of apples?" _The Woman._--Yes, indeed it is. _Tommy._--And pray how is it made? _The Woman._--We take the apples when they are ripe and squeeze them in a machine we have for that purpose. Then we take this pulp, and put it into large hair-bags, which we press in a large press till all the juice runs out. _Tommy._--And is this juice cider? _The Woman._--You shall taste, little master, as you seem so curious.

She then led him into another room, where there was a great tub full of the juice of apples, and, taking some up in a cup, she desired him to taste whether it was cider. Tommy tasted, and said it was very sweet and pleasant, but not cider. "Well," said the woman, "let us try another cask." She then took out some liquor of another barrel, which she gave him, and Tommy, when he had tasted it, said that it really was cider.

"But pray," said he, "what do you do to the apple-juice to make it cider?" _The Woman._--Nothing at all. _Tommy._--How, then, should it become cider? for I am sure what you gave me at first is not cider. _The Woman._--Why, we put the juice into a large cask, and let it stand in some warm place, where it soon begins to ferment. _Tommy._--Ferment!

pray, what is that? _The Woman._--You shall see.

She then showed him another cask, and bade him observe the liquor that was in it. This he did, and saw it was covered all over with a thick sc.u.m and froth. _Tommy._--And is this what you call fermentation? _The Woman._--Yes, master. _Tommy._--And what is the reason of it? _The Woman._--That I do not know, indeed; but when we have pressed the juice out, as I told you, we put it into a cask and let it stand in some warm place, and in a short time it begins to work or ferment of itself, as you see; and after this fermentation has continued some time, it acquires the taste and properties of cider, and then we draw it off into casks and sell it, or else keep it for our own use. And I am told this is the manner in which they make wine in other countries.

_Tommy._--What! is wine made of apples, then? _The Woman._--No, master; wine is made of grapes, but they squeeze the juice out, and treat it in the same manner as we do the juice of the apples. _Tommy._--I declare this is very curious indeed. Then cider is nothing but wine made of apples?

While they were conversing in this manner a little clean girl came and brought Tommy an earthen porringer full of new milk, with a large slice of brown bread. Tommy took it, and ate with so good a relish that he thought he had never made a better breakfast in his life.

When Harry and he had eaten their breakfast, Tommy told him it was time they should return home, so he thanked the good woman for her kindness, and putting his hand into his pocket, pulled out a s.h.i.+lling, which he desired her to accept. "No, G.o.d bless you, my little dear!" said the woman, "I will not take a farthing off you for the world. What though my husband and I are poor, yet we are able to get a living by our labour, and give a mess of milk to a traveller without hurting ourselves."

Tommy thanked her again, and was just going away when a couple of surly-looking men came in and asked the woman if her name was _Tosset_.

"Yes, it is," said the woman: "I have never been ashamed of it." "Why then," said one of the men, pulling a paper out of his pocket, "here is an execution against you, on the part of Mr Richard Gruff; and if your husband does not instantly discharge the debt, with interest and all costs, amounting altogether to the sum of thirty-nine pounds ten s.h.i.+llings, we shall take an inventory of all you have, and proceed to sell it by auction for the discharge of the debt."

"Indeed," said the poor woman, looking a little confused, "this must certainly be a mistake, for I never heard of Mr Richard Gruff in all my life, nor do I believe that my husband owes a farthing in the world, unless to his landlord; and I know that he has almost made up half-a-year's rent for him: so that I do not think he would go to trouble a poor man." "No, no, mistress," said the man, shaking his head, "we know our business too well to make these kind of mistakes; but when your husband comes in we'll talk with him; in the meantime we must go on with our inventory."

The two men then went into the next room, and immediately after, a stout, comely-looking man, of about the age of forty, came in, with a good-humoured countenance, and asked if his breakfast was ready. "Oh, my poor dear William," said the woman, "here is a sad breakfast for you!

but I think it cannot be true that you owe anything; so what the fellows told me must be false about Richard Gruff." At this name the man instantly started, and his countenance, which was before ruddy, became pale as a sheet. "Surely," said the woman, "it cannot be true, that you owe forty pounds to Richard Gruff?" "Alas!" answered the man, "I do not know the exact sum; but when your brother Peter failed, and his creditors seized all that he had, this Richard Gruff was going to send him to jail, had not I agreed to be bound for him, which enabled him to go to sea. He indeed promised to remit his wages to me, to prevent my getting into any trouble upon that account; but you know it is now three years since he went, and in all that time we have heard nothing about him." "Then," said the woman, bursting into tears, "you, and all your poor dear children are ruined for my ungrateful brother; for here are two bailiffs in the house, who are come to take possession of all you have, and to sell it."

At this the man's face became red as scarlet, and seizing an old sword which hung over the chimney, he cried out, "No, it shall not be; I will die first; I will make these villains know what it is to make honest men desperate." He then drew the sword, and was going out in a fit of madness, which might have proved fatal either to himself or to the bailiffs, but his wife flung herself upon her knees before him, and, catching hold of his legs, besought him to be more composed. "Oh, for heaven's sake, my dear, dear husband," said she, "consider what you are doing! You can do neither me nor your children any service by this violence; instead of that, should you be so unfortunate as to kill either of these men, would it not be murder? and would not our lot be a thousand times harder than it is at present?"

This remonstrance seemed to have some effect upon the farmer; his children too, although too young to understand the cause of all this confusion, gathered round him, and hung about him, sobbing in concert with their mother. Little Harry too, although a stranger to the poor man before, yet with the tenderest sympathy took him by the hand and bathed it with his tears. At length, softened and overcome by the sorrows of those he loved so well, and by his own cooler reflections, he resigned the fatal instrument, and sat himself down upon a chair, covering his face with his hands, and only saying, "The will of G.o.d be done!"

Tommy had beheld this affecting scene with the greatest attention, although he had not said a word; and now beckoning Harry away, he went silently out of the house, and took the road which led to Mr Barlow's.

While he was on the way, he seemed to be so full of the scene which he had just witnessed that he did not open his lips; but when he came home he instantly went to Mr Barlow and desired that he would directly send him to his father's. Mr Barlow stared at the request, and asked him what was the occasion of his being so suddenly tired with his residence at the vicarage. "Sir," answered Tommy, "I am not the least tired, I a.s.sure you; you have been extremely kind to me, and I shall always remember it with the greatest grat.i.tude; but I want to see my father immediately, and I am sure, when you come to know the occasion, you will not disapprove of it." Mr Barlow did not press him any further, but ordered a careful servant to saddle a horse directly and take Tommy home before him.

Mr and Mrs Merton were extremely surprised and over-joyed at the sight of their son, who thus unexpectedly arrived at home; but Tommy, whose mind was full of the project he had formed, as soon as he had answered their first questions, accosted his father thus--"Pray, sir, will you be angry with me if I ask you for a great favour?" "No, surely," said Mr Merton, "that I will not." "Why, then," said Tommy, "as I have often heard you say that you were very rich, and that if I was good I should be rich too. Will you give me some money?" "Money!" said Mr Merton; "yes, to be sure; how much do you want?" "Why, sir," said Tommy, "I want a very large sum indeed." "Perhaps a guinea," answered Mr Merton.

_Tommy._--No, sir, a great deal more--a great many guineas. _Mr Merton._--Let us however see. _T._--Why, sir, I want at least forty pounds. "Bless the boy!" answered Mrs Merton; "surely Mr Barlow must have taught him to be ten times more extravagant than he was before."

_T._--Indeed, madam, Mr Barlow knows nothing about the matter. "But,"

said Mr Merton, "what can such an urchin as you want with such a large sum of money?" "Sir," answered Tommy, "that is a secret; but I am sure when you come to hear it, you will approve of the use I intend to make of it." _Mr M._--That I very much doubt. _T._--But, sir, if you please, you may let me have this money, and I will pay you again by degrees. _Mr M._--How will you ever be able to pay me such a sum? _T._--Why, sir, you know you are so kind as frequently to give me new clothes and pocket-money; now, if you will only let me have this money, I will neither want new clothes nor anything else till I have made it up. _Mr M._--But what can such a child as you want with all this money?

_T._--Pray, sir, wait a few days and you shall know; and if I make a bad use of it, never believe me again as long as I live.

Mr Merton was extremely struck with the earnestness with which his son persevered in the demand; and, as he was both very rich and liberal, he determined to hazard the experiment, and comply with his request. He accordingly went and fetched him the money which he asked for, and put it into his hands, telling him at the same time that he expected to be acquainted with the use he put it to; and that, if he was not satisfied with the account, he would never trust him again. Tommy appeared in ecstasies at the confidence that was reposed in him, and, after thanking his father for his extraordinary goodness, he desired leave to go back again with Mr Barlow's servant.

When he arrived at Mr Barlow's, his first care was to ask Harry to accompany him again to the farmer's house. Thither the two little boys went with the greatest expedition; and, on their entering the house, found the unhappy family in the same situation as before. But Tommy, who had hitherto suppressed his feelings, finding himself now enabled to execute the project he had formed, went up to the good woman of the house, who sat sobbing in a corner of the room, and, taking her gently by the hand, said, "My good woman, you were very kind to me in the morning, and therefore I am determined to be kind to you in return."

"G.o.d bless you, my little master," said the woman, "you are very welcome to what you had; but you are not able to do anything to relieve our distress." "How do you know that?" said Tommy; "perhaps I can do more for you than you imagine." "Alas!" answered the woman, "I believe you would do all you could; but all our goods will be seized and sold, unless we can immediately raise the sum of forty pounds; and that is impossible, for we have no earthly friend to a.s.sist us; therefore my poor babes and I must soon be turned out of doors, and G.o.d alone can keep them from starving."

Tommy's little heart was too much affected to keep the woman longer in suspense; therefore, pulling out his bag of money, he poured it into her lap, saying, "Here, my good woman, take this and pay your debts, and G.o.d bless you and your children!" It is impossible to express the surprise of the poor woman at the sight; she stared wildly round her, and upon her little benefactor, and, clasping her hands together in an agony of grat.i.tude and feeling, she fell back in her chair with a kind of convulsive motion. Her husband, who was in the next room, seeing her in this condition, ran up to her, and catching her in his arms, asked her with the greatest tenderness what was the matter; but she, springing on a sudden from his embraces, threw herself upon her knees before the little boy, sobbing and blessing with a broken inarticulate voice, embracing his knees and kissing his feet. The husband, who did not know what had happened, imagined that his wife had lost her senses; and the little children, who had before been skulking about the room, ran up to their mother, pulling her by the gown, and hiding their faces in her bosom. But the woman, at the sight of them, seemed to recollect herself, and cried out, "Little wretches, who must all have been starved without the a.s.sistance of this little angel; why do you not join with me in thanking him?" At this the husband said, "Surely, Mary, you must have lost your senses. What can this young gentleman do for us or to prevent our wretched babes from peris.h.i.+ng?" "Oh, William," said the woman, "I am not mad, though I may appear so; but look here, William, look what Providence has sent us by the hands of this little angel, and then wonder not that I should be wild." Saying this, she held up the money, and at the sight her husband looked as wild and astonished as she. But Tommy went up to the man, and, taking him by the hand, said, "My good friend, you are very welcome to this; I freely give it you; and I hope it will enable you to pay what you owe, and to preserve these poor little children." But the man, who had before appeared to bear his misfortunes with silent dignity, now burst into tears and sobbed like his wife and children; but Tommy, who now began to be pained with this excess of grat.i.tude, went silently out of the house, followed by Harry; and, before the poor family perceived what had become of him, was out of sight.

When he came back to Mr Barlow's that gentleman received him with the greatest affection, and when he had inquired after the health of Mr and Mrs Merton, asked Tommy whether he had forgotten the story of the grateful Turk. Tommy told him he had not, and should now be very glad to hear the remainder; which Mr Barlow gave him to read, and was as follows:--

"CONTINUATION OF THE HISTORY OF THE GRATEFUL TURK."

"When Hamet had thus finished his story, the Venetian was astonished at the virtue and elevation of his mind; and after saying everything that his grat.i.tude and admiration suggested, he concluded with pressing him to accept the half of his fortune, and to settle in Venice for the remainder of his life. This offer Hamet refused with the greatest respect, but with a generous disdain; and told his friend that, in what he had done, he had only discharged a debt of grat.i.tude and friends.h.i.+p.

'You were,' said he, 'my generous benefactor; you had a claim upon my life by the benefit you had already conferred; that life would have been well bestowed had it been lost in your service; but since Providence hath otherwise decreed, it is a sufficient recompense to me to have proved that Hamet is not ungrateful, and to have been instrumental to the preservation of your happiness.'

"But though the disinterestedness of Hamet made him underrate his own exertions, the merchant could not remain contented without showing his grat.i.tude by all the means within his power. He therefore once more purchased the freedom of Hamet, and freighted a s.h.i.+p on purpose to send him back to his own country; he and his son then embraced him with all the affection that grat.i.tude could inspire, and bade him, as they thought, an eternal adieu.