As we carried on the former dispute with some degree of warmth, in order to accommodate matters, it was universally
agreed that we should have a part of the venison for supper, and the girls undertook the task with alacrity. "I am sorry," cried I,
"that we have no neighbor or stranger to take a part in this good cheer: feasts of this kind acquire a double relish from
hospitality."-"Bless me," cried my wife, "here comes our good friend, Mr. Burchell, that saved our Sophia, and that ran you
down fairly in the argument.""Confute me in argument, child!" cried I. "You mistake there, my dear. I believe there are but few
that can do that. I never dispute your abilities at making a goose-pie, and I beg you'll leave argument to me." As I spoke, poor
Mr. Burchell entered the house, and was welcomed by the family, who shook him heartily by the hand, while little Dick
officiously reached him a chair.

   I was pleased with the poor man's friendship for two reasons: because I knew that he wanted mine, and

I knew him to be friendly as far as he was able. He was known in our neighborhood by the character of the poor gentleman
that would do no good when he was young, though he was not yet thirty. He would at intervals talk with great good-sense; but
in general he was fondest of the company of children, whom he used to call harmless little men. He was famous, I
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found, for singing them ballads and telling them stories, and seldom went out without something in his pockets for them; a piece
of gingerbread or a halfpenny whistle. He generally came for a few days into our neighborhood once a year and lived upon the
neighbors' hospitality. He sat down to supper among us, and my wife was not sparing of her gooseberry wine. The tale went
round; he sang us old songs, and gave the children the story of The Buck of Beverland,

with the history of Patient Grissel, the adventures of Catskin, and then Fair Rosamond's Bower. Our cock, which always crew
at eleven, now told us it was time to repose; but an unforeseen difficulty started about lodging the stranger: all our beds were
already taken up, and it was too late to send him to the next ale-house. In this dilemma, little Dick offered him his part of the
bed, if his brother Moses would let him lie with him. "And I," cried Bill, "will give Mr. Burchell my part, if my sisters will take
me to theirs."-"Well done, my good children," cried I; "hospitality is one of the first Christian duties. The beast retires to its
shelter, and the bird flies to its nest, but helpless man can only find refuge from his fellow creature. The greatest stranger in the
world, was He that came to save it. He never had a house, as if willing to see what hospitality was left remaining amongst us.
Deborah, my dear," cried I to my wife, "give those boys a lump of sugar each; and let Dick's be the largest because he spoke
first."

   In the morning early I called out my whole family to help at saving an after-growth of hay, and our guest offering his
assistance, he was accepted among the number. Our labors went on lightly; we turned the swath to the wind. I went foremost,
and the rest followed in due succession. I could not avoid, however, observing the assiduity of Mr. Burchell in assisting my
daughter Sophia in her part of the task. When

he had finished his own, he would join in hers, and enter into a close conversation; but I had too good an opinion of Sophia's
understanding, and was too well convinced of her ambition, to be under uneasiness from a man of broken fortune. When we
were finished for the day, Mr. Burchell was invited as on the night before; but he refused, as he was to lie that night at a
neighbor's, to whose child he was carrying a whistle. When gone, our conversation at supper turned upon our late unfortunate
guest. "What a strong instance," said I, "is that poor man of the miseries attending a youth of levity and extravagance! He by no
means wants sense, which only serves to aggravate his former folly. Poor forlorn creature, where are now the revellers, the
flatterers, that he could once inspire and command! Gone, perhaps, to attend the bagnio pander, grown rich by his
extravagance. They once praised him, and now they applaud the pander; their former raptures at his wit are now converted into
sarcasms at his folly: he is poor, and perhaps deserves poverty: for he has neither the ambition to be independent, nor the skill
to be useful." Prompted perhaps by some secret reasons, I delivered this observation with too much acrimony, which my
Sophia gently reproved. "Whatsoever his former conduct may have been, papa, his circumstances should exempt him from
censure now. His present indigence is a sufficient punishment for former folly; and I have heard my papa himself say, that we

should never strike one unnecessary blow at a victim over whom Providence holds the scourge of its resentment."-"You are
right, Sophy," cried my son Moses, "and one of the ancients finely represents so malicious a conduct, by the attempts of a rustic
to flay Marsyas, whose skin, the fable tells us, had been wholly stripped off by another. Besides, I don't know if this poor man's
situation be so bad as my father would represent it. We are not to judge of the feelings of others, by what we might feel if in
their place. However dark the habitation of the mole to our eyes, yet the animal itself finds the apartment sufficiently lightsome;
and, to confess a truth, this man's mind seems fitted to his station; for I never heard any one more sprightly than he was to-day
when he conversed with you." This was said without the least design; however, it excited a blush, which she strove to cover by
an affected laugh, assuring him that she scarcely took any notice of what he said to her; but that she believed he might once
have been a very fine gentleman. The readiness with which she undertook to vindicate herself, and her blushing, were symptoms
I did not internally approve; but I repressed my suspicions.

   As we expected our landlord the next day, my wife went to make the venison pasty. Moses sat reading, while I taught the
little ones; my daughters seemed equally busy with the rest; and I observed them for a good while cooking something over the
fire. I at first

supposed they were assisting their mother; but little Dick informed me in a whisper, that they were making a wash for the face.
Washes of all kinds I had a natural antipathy to; for I knew that instead of mending the complexion they spoiled it. I therefore
approached my chair by sly degrees to the fire, and grasping the poker, as if it wanted mending, seemingly by accident,
overturned the whole composition, and it was too late to begin another.