SUSAN GRAY. 117

objection to another hand.” Then she asked
me my name.

I said that it was Susan Gray; and told her
the names of my father and mother, and where
they had lived.

«And do you not know,” answered she,
‘that this is the very parish in which vou say
that your parents lived? J doubt not but Far-
mer Flemming knew them very well, for he is
now getting old, and has been overseer of the
poor these twenty years past.”

When [ heard this, and found that I had ta-
ken shelter, in my affliction, in my native vil-
lage, 1 felt my heart, I know not wherefore,
strangely touched, insomuch that I could not
help shedding fresh tears. I thanked my land-
lady for her kind offer of getting me employ-
ment from Farmer Flemming, and for consent-
ing that I should continue to lodge in her house,

Towards mid-day, I found myself much bet-
ter, and was able to employ myself in mending
the rents which I had got in my clothes. In
the evening, however, I was almost spent for
want of food; for I would not take any which
my good hostess offered me, she having a large
family, who entirely depended on her for bread.
I, accordingly, went into my own room to exa-
mine my bundle of linen, thinking that I might,
perhaps, exchange some part of it for a loaf of
bread at the baker's shop, which was just op-
posite; when I found, unexpectedly, wrapped
up in an old handkerchief, among other little
things, which had been bestowed on me in my
childhood, by way of rewards, for good be-