SUSAN GRAY. 121

that my dear father and mother came into the
room, and stood one on each side of my bed;
and my mother said, “This is our beloved
Susan; this is the child we love. She has been
washed and made white in the blood of the
Lamb.” This was a sweet dream, and was
surely sent by God as a comfort to me.

The next morning, by break of day, I pre-
pared myself for my new employment. I felt
somewhat better than I had done the night be-
fore; and the day being fine, I was tolerably
cheerful as I took my way to the farmer's.

When I came to the house, I found the yard
full of men, women, and children, with their
forks and rakes in their hands, ready to set out
for the hay-field. ‘They stared at me when I
came into the yard, but did not speak.

1 went up to Mrs. Flemming, who was stand-
ing at the kitchen-door, giving to each of the
hay-makers a large slice of bread and cheese.

I made a courtesy to her, and told her that
my name was Susan Gray.

“‘O! the young woman,” said she, in a very
loud voice, ‘* whom Nanny Jones was speaking
of. But methinks you do not look very fit for
hard work.” She then called to her husband,
who was sitting within by the kitchen-fire, to
tell him that James Gray’s daughter was come.

Hearing this, he came out, without his coat,
and with a woollen night-cap on his head, and
ordered one of the men to bring me a rake.
Then looking at me very earnestly for some
time, “‘ How comes it, young woman,” said he,
‘that you have run away from your service?

L