120 THE HISTORY OF

father and mother, and when my soul, through
the merits of my blessed Saviour, might return
to him that made it.

While I remained in the church-yard, the
sun set, and the darkness of night came on,
The bats, with their leathern wings, fluttered
about me, and the owl screamed from the
church-tower. Then calling to mind that, if I
should stay out late, my hostess might, per-
haps, have reason to think some ill of me, I
walked slowly and sadly towards the village.

When I returned to my lodgings, my land-
lady told me, that she had engaged me to go
the next day to Farmer Flemming’s, to make
hay. ‘You must be there by six o'clock,”
said she, ‘and your work will not be finished
till late; but,” added she, looking hard at me,
‘you do not seem fit for such a day’s work,
you look very ill.”

“I am not very well,” I said, “but I cannot
starve, and I must do any work which I am so
fortunate as to get.”

The good woman seemed very sorry for me:
she warmed some beer, and, putting a toast
and some spice in it, she made me drink it;
and then advised me to go to bed, that I might
be the better fit for next day’s labour.

That night, I thank my God, I enjoyed
auch sweet rest, although I had many dreams.
I remember one in particular, which I have
since often thought of with much pleasure. I
fancied that I was lying on my bed very ill in-
deed, nay, almost about to die; I was alone,
and no one to take care of me. And J thought