Friarswood Post-Office

e Great Messenger, when the new and better Covenant was c

s required of them than they have hitherto fancied needful; and there are many who wince and murmur at the sharp piercing of the weapon which tries their very hearts; they try to escape from it, and to forget the

rs. King had been to bring her sons up in the right way, there was something in Mr. Cope's manner of talking to them that brought things clos

again. It was pleasanter to him to think himself hardly treated, than to look right in the face at all his faults; he knew it was of no use to say he had none, so he

d if he came to see him, he made himself sullen, and would not talk, sometimes seeming oppressed and tired, and unable to bear any one's presence, sometimes leaving Ellen to do all the answering, dreading nothing so much as being left a

o that she began to think it was unpleasant to him to have her there; and if she were a week without calling, he grumbled hard thoughts about fine people; he was fretful

he sweetest good humour; but her mother now and then spoke severely for Alfred's own good, and then he made himself more miserable than ever, and thought she was unkind and h

almost turned out of his own house; and his mother did not know what to do, for Alfred was really very ill, and fretting made him

d fell. Not that Paul was a bit cleaner; on the contrary, each day could not fail to make him w

nothing. She asked Harold about it, and had for answer

ssible, there was no shirt at all in the case; and he had a sturdy sort of independence about

past sunset. He was always going at the end of every week, but never gone; perhaps he had undergone too much in his wanderings, to be ready to begin them again; or perhaps either C?sar or Harold, one or both, kept him at Friarswood. And there might be another reason, too, for no one had ever spoken to him like Mr. Cope. Very few had

a really kind way of putting it was needed, to make him turn in his loneliness to rest in the thought of the ever-present Father. Hard as the discipline of his workhouse home had been, it had kept him from much outward harm; the little he had seen in h

e workhouse prayers, which were read on week-days by the master, and on Sundays by a chaplain, who always had more to do than he could manage, and only went to the paupers when they were

hither-the more, perhaps, that he rather liked to shew how little he cared for remarks upon his appearance. There was a great deal of independence about him; and, h

r to add a bit of cheese or bacon to it; he never would see the relish, and left it behind; and so he never would accept Mr. Cope's kind offers

een put on him. That was his right, for in truth the farmer did not pay him the value of his labour, an

ay be sometimes picked up by the roadside, Mr. Shepherd did actually bestow

farmer's voice was heard on the bridge, rating Pau

ont, there was a sort of acquaintance now over the counter between Mrs. King and young Blackthorn;

me so, I could hardly

old ones; but you should try to use yourself to decent ones, or you

Ma'am. He thinks one can

t is becom

ston, and he wanted a pair of shoes, and I want

cry all over the hay-loft for the Prayer-book. There was no place to put it safely, or if there had been, Poor Paul was too great a sloven to think of any such thing; and as it was in a som

ol, and could read well; but he was one of those many lads, who, alas! are everywhere to be found, who break loose from all restraint as soon as they can maintain themselves. They do their work pretty well, and are tolerably honest; but for the rest-alas! they seem to live without God. Prayers and Church they have left behind, as belonging to school-days; and in all their strength and health, their days of toil, their evenings of rude diversion, their Sundays of morning sleep, noonday basking in the sun, evening cricket, they hav

chool-master felt it was dreary work to train up nice lads in the school, only to see t

y to be spoken to; and they liked lounging about much better than having to poke into that mind of theirs, which they carried somewhere about them, but did not like

was fast growing impatient of restraint, and worried and angry, as if any word of good advice affronted him. Driven from home by the fear of disturbing Alfred, he was left the more to the company of boys who made him ashamed of being ordered by his mother; and there was a jaunty careless style about all his ways of talking and moving,

o the surprise of both, a knock was heard at the door. Mrs. King looked out of the window, and a smart, hard-looking, pigeon's-neck silk bonnet at

lfred, in dismay; 'you won't

ighing. If there were a thing she dislike

tish tones. 'I won't have her here, worrying with her vo

n doubt of her own powers, and

about of a Sunday, and leaving her old sick

g the promise, for, in fact, Mrs. King had too much conscience to gain present quiet for a

bs of Elbury, and always had a girl or two under her. She had neither had the education, nor the good training in service, that had fallen to Mrs. King's lot; and her way of life did not lead to softening her

e hanging out the clothes in the high wind-coming pitying him-ay, and perhaps her whole weight lumbering down on the couch beside him, shaking every joint in his body! His mother's ways, learnt in the Selby nursery, had made him more tender,

, whatever she did herself; and he could hear every word of her greeting, as she said how it was such a fine day, she said to

His mother was answering somet

is he a

ust you spea

eave him quite alone? Well-' and there was a frightful noise of the foot of the heavi

re was the tiresome old word, 'Low-ay, so's my mother; but you should rise his spirits with company, you

e words, which sounded like something pitying. 'Ay, ay-just like his poor father; when they be decliny, it will come out one ways or another; and says I to Mother, I'll go over a

you might have knocked me down with a feather. I asked Mr. Blunt to come in and see what's good for Mother, she feels so weak at times, and has such a noise in her head, just like the regiment playing drums, she says, till she can't hardly bear herself; and so what do you think he says? Don't wrap up her head so warm, says he-a pretty thing for a doctor to say, as if a poor old creature

d ladies of this jumble between apoplexy and paralysis; but this was no moment for laughing, and he

shew you if I hadn't come away in a hurry, because Evans's cart was going out to the merry orchard, and says I to Mother, Well, I'll get a lift now there's such a chance to Friarswood: it'll do them all a bit of good to see a bit of cheerful company, seeing, as

w he should judge by that, even without catching the words

ng fast, fast, straight upon him. He felt it within himself-he knew now the meaning of the pain and sinking, the shortness of breath and choking of throat that had been growing on him through the long summer days; he was being 'cut off with pining sickness,' and his s

uched him! Prayer! They had prayed for his father, for Charlie, but it had not been God's Will.

cared for his own pleasure, not for God; he had not heeded the comfort of his widowed mother; he had been careless of the honour of God's House, said and heard prayers without minding them; he had been disrespectful and ill-behaved at my Lady's-he had been bad in every way; and when illness came, how rebellious and murmuring he

k on his pillow, deadly white, the beads of dew standing on his brow, and his breath in gasps. She would hav

dear? What i

she

? Dear dear Alf, is

growing round with terror again. 'That Mr.

! She's always gossiping and gadding about, and don't know what she says, and she'd got no business to tell stori

r thinks i

know she doesn't, or she could never go about as sh

e!' cried Alfred, holding her by the

she was unable to silence, and about which Betsey was quite thoughtless. So many people of her degree would talk to the patient about himself and his danger, and go on constantly before him with all their fears, and the doctor's opinions, that Betsey had never thought of there being more consideration and tend

when she saw her poor boy's look at her, and heard his sob, 'Oh, Mother!' it was almost too much for her,

'm sure it is not true,'

ace, that stopped her short, and brought the sense

ut, Ellen, she's coming back! She'l

rs in another instant. She was a hopeful girl, however, and after that 'not to me,' resolved to believe nothing of the matter. Mrs. King knelt down by her son, and looke

think I shall g

've got to cough like Father and Charlie, and-though He might raise my boy up-yet anyhow, Alfy

, Mother! What wi

eady, my dear. You are no worse now than you were this morning; you are not li

pon Alfred's looks, and Mrs. King was only in time to meet her on the stairs, and tell her that he was so

rtin had her things marked with a badly-done K. E. M., and all that Mrs. Martin's Maria and all Miss Marlowe's Jane had said about it, and all Betsey's 'Says I to Mother,'-when she was so longing to be watching poor Alfred, and how her mother could sit so quietly making tea, and answer

him coming out of church, but meal-time

'll warrant he is off

' said Mrs.

ld,' said Ell

didn't see no harm in a lad

fruit nor in the pleasure, but I should be much vexed if he could go out

have a holiday if not on a Sunday, and the poor b

t her heart was very heavy; and when she went up with some tea to Alfred, she looked from the window to see whether, as she hoped, Harold might be in Pa

now where Harold is? Sure he is

chard, breaking Sunday with Dick Royston! And by-and-by he'll be ill, and die,