"Why, Newton, my dear boy, is it you?" cried Nicholas; "what a long while you have been away! Well, how is Mr Hilton?—and how is your poor mother?"
"My dear father," replied Newton, taking his hand, "did not you receive my letter?"
"No, I received no letter. What a time you have been away; I declare it must be two or three months, or more."
"It is nearly twelve months, my dear father: I was pressed at Bristol, have been on board of a man-of-war, and have just escaped from a French prison."
Newton then entered into a narrative of his adventures, to the astonishment of Nicholas, who heard him with open mouth.
"Dear me! so you've been in a man-of-war, and in France; then you don't know how your poor mother is?"
"Have you not inquired, my dear father?"
"No, I thought you would come home, and tell me all about it," replied
Nicholas, with a sigh.
"How have you got on here?" said Newton, to change the conversation.
"Very bad indeed, Newton,—very bad indeed; I have not had six jobs since you left me."