Martha Watson, (for that was the name of this poor woman) now repented having come to the school at all, as she feared, from the anxiety in Dr. Harris's face, that the boys might get scolded for coming to the cottage without leave of their master; and she followed him to the house with a faltering step.
The servant having opened the door, Dr. Harris led the way into a little room, which was his study, and desired Martha Watson to enter, when he closed the door, and they both sat down. "Where do you live, pray?" asked the Doctor.
"In one of those poor cottages, Sir, in the lane that leads on to the common."
"You say these boys gave you sixteen shillings: I wish you would tell me what it was that first induced them to come to your cottage, and every thing you know about them."
Martha Watson now felt very uneasy, and anxiously asked whether they had done any thing wrong, which she the more feared, as she had not seen them for some time past. Dr. Harris begged of her to answer his question, and assured her that there was no cause for her alarm.
She then related to him the following circumstance: "About a month ago, Sir, as my little son Jack, who is about six years old, was coming from Farmer Miles's, with a pitcher full of milk, and making all the haste he could to get home with it for his daddy's supper, these two young gentlemen were hastening off the common, and in their hurry to turn the corner of the lane, they did not see little Jack, but ran against him. So, Sir, they ran so violently, that they knocked him down, spilled the milk, broke the pitcher into a hundred pieces, and cut poor Jack's arm, which bled very much indeed."
"They did not do him a very serious injury, I hope," said the Doctor.
"No, Sir; only cut his arm a little. Finding, however, that Jack was afraid to go home alone, they came with him to our cottage, when they told me the whole affair, and said how sorry they were they had spilt the milk and broke the pitcher; and did all they could to pacify little Jack. When they found how poor we were, and saw my dear husband sick in bed, they asked me many questions: how long he had been ill, what money we had, and many others; and when I told them that he had kept his bed for five weeks, and was not then able to get up; and that we had no money, but the little I and my eldest girl could earn in the fields, they talked together a little while, and the young gentleman in the white hat said, that he would see me again in about an hour, and pay me for the pitcher and the milk, and give me something for my husband."
