“And what have you brought for me?” cried rosy Dick, as he emptied a handful of peas into the bason. “Why nothing at all, my good boy,” replied Mrs. Trusty, “but a piece of bread and cheese: but I hope you are not jealous that your sister should have any thing, when you cannot partake of it?” “Jealous!” said he: “No, I would go without any thing in the world for the sake of my Jenny; and I will give her my half-penny with all my heart, though I have staid away from a nice game at cricket on the green to earn it. When I am a man you shall see how hard I will work, and take care of all the money I get, and give it to you, grandmother, to buy us victuals, and drink, and cloaths; and you shall stay at home and knit; but never, while I have any health, shall you go out to such hard labour as you now do.” “Blessings on my generous boy,” exclaimed the tender hearted mother Trusty, while the tears of affection rolled down her aged cheeks. “Just such a man was thy father Dick. While he was alive, we never wanted for any thing. He was a good man, indeed he was; and I hope that you will resemble him. But go, my boy! carry home your work, and bring the stale roll which you was promised: it will be much better for you than gingerbread.”
Jenny kissed her brother, and thanked him for his kind intention: “but we will give the penny to our grandmother,” said she; “you know she has got five pence three farthings which we have had given us already; and when there is enough we will ask her to buy you a pair of new shoes; because those are too bad to walk with.” Away ran Richard with the peas, and returned in triumph with the roll; when the little party sat down to supper, with that smiling good-humour and cheerful contentment, which is not always an attendant on the meals of the rich and great. But when I saw how very little was sufficient (or was obliged to be so) for a woman who had been hard at labour all day, and two little hungry children, I could not help reflecting, how wicked it is in those who are blessed with plenty, to be dissatisfied with their food, and idly waste when they are not disposed to eat it, that which would keep the poor from starving, and which many an unhappy child would be highly thankful to receive. When they had concluded the meal which their grandmother had brought them, Dick ran to a neighbouring pump, to replenish a broken red pitcher which had lost its handle and a piece out of the top: and after they had each of them drank with thirsty eagerness he kissed his grandmother and sister, and wished them a good-night, went quietly to bed. Little Jenny followed her brother’s example, as soon as she had laid me in a drawer with great care, where all her treasures were deposited. Among that number was a little paper, which was nearly worn out with frequent perusal, and with which I shall beg leave to present my readers.
DICK to his SISTER.
Tho’ I am but a boy, yet I’ll do the best I can,
And I’ll try to earn something, altho I’m not a man;
But when I am older, nay, Jenny, do not cry,
For the loss of thy father and mother I’ll supply.
I’ll go to yon farm house, and beg a bit of bread;