vile boy. But, let us not stop at this brook, for he may recover and attack us again."

"I think we could master him, if he should. But there is another brook on beyond, and you can wash your face there."

"How long have you lived with Deacon Webber ?" I inquired.

"Six months, next Saturday."

"Where did you live before?"

"At home, in the city of Boston."

"Do you like to live with Deacon Webber ?" "Should you think so, by my looks?" she said, with a sad voice.

"I should think you would hate him, and all the family. I would not stay there one day, if I were you, to be kept so ragged and filthy."

"I cannot help it. I have nowhere else to go! Boston is fifty miles from here, and my parents don't know but that I am used well!

Why don't you write and tell them?"

"I never learned to write much; besides, I have no pens, ink and paper. If I should write, my parents are so poor they could not come after me."

"Poor girl! But don't you despise the deacon, and all that belongs to him?"

"I do sometimes, for I cannot help it when he beats me so; and then I think it may be wrong to hate and

despise anybody. I fear I have hurt that boy very badly, but I could not help it. Had we not better return and see to him? I am afraid he will die!”

"He is an ugly fellow, and I have not the courage to go near him again; - he might kill us both. There he is, coming now; let us run. Hark! he is threatening ven

geance."

Just then a large team came in sight, and we felt no longer afraid. When our enemy saw that aid was near, he hesitated a moment, then turned and fled towards the woods. At a little singing brooklet the blood was soon washed from my face and hands.

"You are hurt badly," she exclaimed,-"very badly. What a brute that boy is! I believe he had just as lief killed you as not."

“Never mind, Helen, I shall get over it; though my head is very painful, and I have a severe pain in my side, where he kicked me."

"You look very pale. I think you must be faint. Lie down upon the grass, and I will bathe your head with water."

I was very faint indeed, and so I laid down upon the soft grass, while she brought water in her hands and bathed my burning temples. I was delighted with the gentle and affectionate manner in which she performed the part of a nurse, and felt more indignant with the deacon, who treated her so shamefully. When I had

sufficiently recovered, we resumed our walk and conversation.

"Did you say that the deacon is in the habit of beating you?"

"Yes, he beats me every day, and his children knock me about when they please."

"What do they treat you so for?”

"They accuse me of lying, and say that I am a thief. If any sugar, pie or cake, is missing, it is laid to me; and if I deny it, I am accused of falsehood. I have never taken anything but once, and then I was so hungry that I could not help it. I took a quarter of a pie, and ate it; and I believe that I should have done so, if I had known

they would have killed me."

"What miserable wretches they are! I shall never take any more comfort while you stay there.

write and inform your parents."

I will

"It will do no good, they are so poor. Father is in

temperate, and does nothing for the family.

provides everything by taking in washing."

Mother

"How many brothers and sisters have you?" "Five. All younger than I am, but one. Caroline is twelve, and two years older than I am.”

"Your mother ought to know of this; it is a burning shame. Do they give you a good bed to sleep on?"

"They let me have a pretty good one, at first, but now

I sleep on some rags in the attic. I never take off my clothes when I lie down."

"Is it possible? Do you ever go to school?"

"I went some when I was in Boston, but now I do not go at all. Mr. Webber says that poor children do not need learning, and so he keeps all the books and papers out of my reach. One day I looked into a book, and he punished me for it. If I could get books, I would read, if he did beat me."

"Don't your parents wish you sent to school?" "Yes, and the deacon promised that I should go four months every year."

"How long are you to stay there?"

"Until I am eighteen, if I live so long."

"You will not stay one year, if I can prevent it. Seven long years to be abused by a soulless pack of wretches! No, you shall be removed by some means. I wish my father was alive; the work would be done quick, and it shall be done now!"

"O! if you can help me get away from them, and find me a good place to live, I shall be so grateful, and I know God will bless you."

"I will see what can be done. Don't despair, and all will work right. You must not tell a single person of our intentions.”

"And do you think that you can get me away?" "I will, if I live."

We had now arrived at the place where we must separate. I stood and watched her until I saw her enter the house of Deacon Webber; I then walked slowly home. When I entered the door, my mother met me in the entry, and seeing that I was injured, she exclaimed,

"What have you been doing, Henri? Fighting, wicked boy! Have you so soon forgotten what Deacon Webber said to the children, last Sunday, about quarrelling?"

"Don't say anything about that old villain! I can't bear the sound of his name!"

She seemed astonished, and she said, "Why do you speak so of Deacon Webber? What can you mean ?”

"I meant what I said, mother. He is the greatest rascal in the whole town, and cruel as the grave!

"I am astounded, Henri, to hear you," she said. "Are you crazy? Deacon Webber is as holy as the ministers of the gospel!"

"Then the ministers ought to be hanged!" I replied, quietly.

"What vile and insolent talk! So young, and yet so wicked and heaven-daring; - how like his father!"

"Do not speak evil of my father; for I know that he was a good man, and he is now among the blest; and sometimes I fancy that his beautiful spirit, with white wings, is flitting near me." We had now entered the sitting-room, and my mother had taken her accustomed seat.