Together, in a few minutes, they set off to the farm. Mary was right. No father could give a more hearty welcome to a prodigal son than good Farmer Grey gave to his nephew James.
James had gained rank and marks of distinction, and he had a pension for wounds, and a considerable share of prize money. His rank and honour showed that he had been firm in resisting the many temptations to which he must have been exposed, for no soldiers escape them. He got his discharge, but entered a militia regiment that he might be able to defend his country, should she ever be attacked by foreign foes. He and Mary married; and no more happy and prosperous couple were to be found in or near Hillbrook. They were so, because they were “diligent in business, fearing the Lord.”
Story 2—Chapter 1.
Tom Trueman, the Sailor; or, Life at Sea in a Merchant Vessel.
It was a sad, sad day for poor mother and all of us, when father was brought home on a hurdle, the life crushed out of him by a tree which fell right down where he stood.
He never spoke again. We lived in Dorsetshire, not far from the town of Poole. Father was a day labourer; he had never saved a sixpence. His club buried him, and we were left to live as we could, or to go to the workhouse. Mother said that she would never do that, and with God’s help she’d try to feed and clothe us. She found it very hard work though.
There were ten of us. Jane, who was sixteen, and just going into service, was the eldest, and little Bill, who was in arms, was the youngest. I was the fourth child.
Farmer Denn took Sam, who was a strong lad, and Jack went to Mr Sweet, the grocer in the village, who wanted an errand boy. Jane got a place as maid-of-all-work—and very hard work it was.