THE WHITE CAT. 385

should he be crying so because Le Boo die?” Whatever he
felt, his spirits did not allow him to complain. Mrs. Wilson’s
chamber adjoined to his own, and he would often call out to
inquire if she was etter, alway’ adding, to prevent her suffering
any disquictude on his account, ‘ Lee Boo do well, mother; Lee
Boo do well.’ ‘The small-pox not rising after eight or nine days
from its coming out, he began to feel himsclf sink, and told Mr.
Sharp he was going aw: What he suffered in the latter part
of his existence was very severe indecd : his mind, however,
continued perfectly clear and calm to the last, and the strength
of his constitution struggled long and hard against the virulence
till, overwhelmed, nature yielded in the con-
‘ilson having notified to the India-house the
is ble youth, received orders to conduct his
funeral with every mark of deceney and respect. He was accord-
ingly interred in Rotherhithe church-yard, attended by the
captain and his brother ; and such was the affectionate regard
entertained by those who knew him, that not only the young
people of the academy, but even the whole parish, seemed to
have assembled to see the last ceremonies paid to his remains.
An additional honour was soon afterwards done them, by the
India Company's ordering a tomb to be erected over his grave,
on which is a handsome inscription.”

   

  

  

 

   

 

THE WIITE CAT.

There was once a king who had three sons, all remarkably
handsome in their persons, and in their tempers brave and
noble. Some wicked courtiers made the king believe that the
princes were impatient to wear the crown, and that they were.

co