Of course, David and I were obliged to accept this promise in lieu of the evening's entertainment which we had expected, and marched off to our berths.
The next day we came upon a fine shoal of mackerel; so every one was busy, and it was not till nearly a week afterwards that Dick handed us two closely-written sheets of paper, with a caution not to show them to any one else. David and I read them with much interest, and I copied them to send to you. Here they are, and you must take care that I have them safe on my return.
CONTINUATION OF DICK'S STORY.
"It was not from pride that I was unable to go on with the history of my own early years; but I find that I had not the fortitude to bear the sad recollection of my own selfishness and ingratitude. My little sister's image rose before me with such sweetness and purity that I could not utter another word.
"I will pass over the years of my infantine tyranny till, when at the age of fourteen, I became possessed with a strong desire to be sent to a public school. My father was sitting in his large arm-chair, in the porch, after tea, when I made this request, which, at first, he refused to grant.
"'I shall never be any thing but a baby,' I exclaimed angrily, 'brought up with nobody but a mere child, and that a girl, too, for my playmate. Do send me where I can make a man, and be a match for other boys of my age.'
"My old father looked very sadly at this outbreak of passion, but did not reprove my disrespectful tone. 'Where do you wish to go?' he asked, soothingly. 'Can you find any one who will love you better than your sweet little sister and I do? She would be very unhappy if I were to send her dear brother away.'
"'And so,' I said, 'I must be tied to Miss Louisa's apron-string all my life, for fear the little baby will cry for me! If my interest is always to lend to her pleasure, I might as well give up all hope of ever being any thing now.'
"At this moment, Louisa, who sat swinging on the garden gate, fanning her fair cheek with the little round hat which she had just been trimming with roses, caught the sound of my angry voice; and never did a cloud more quickly obscure the sweet star of evening than the shadow fell on her young face. She dropped her hat beside her on the grass, and the ever-ready tear rose to her dark hazel eye; but she dashed it away, knowing that I was always angry with her instead of myself when I made her weep. She left her seat, and, coming up the walk with a timid air, stole to my father's side and whispered,—'O, don't cross Richard, father! If he wants to go away from us, let him. He will be happier where there are boys of his own age.'
"'And what will you do, my sweet pet?' asked my father, fondly, as he drew her to his knee. 'Will you stay alone with your old father, and try and comfort him.'