REN. s and the good shioned house. vas often away 1 people began quite honestly ne occasionally. • little creatures f them, into as I see any where. somest, and the en very regular n years of age, JANUARY, 1853. YEARS passed by. The Uptons and the good widow still lodged in the old-fashioned house. Thomas did not improve; he was often away for days and weeks together, and people began to suspect that he did not come quite honestly by all the money he brought home occasionally. His children had grown from the little creatures they were when we last heard of them, into as pleasant young people as one could see any where. John was the cleverest, the handsomest, and the merriest of the two; he had been very regular at school till he was about fifteen years of age, VOL. XII. B JANUARY, 1853. and had made himself remarkable among his companions by his quick intelligence and still quicker temper. After leaving school he became an errand-boy at one of the large book shops in Bristol, and would have done very well in this employment but for an unfortunate quarrel with his father. At the time John received his first wages, Upton was very short of money; he at once took possession of all the boy's earnings, and told him, with an oath, that in future he must manage to find and clothe himself, and bring home something besides. "If you can't get money enough by fair means, you must try what you can pick up on the sly," was his sneering answer to John's indignant remonstrances. He had gone too far. His son, though headstrong and passionate, was (thanks to Mrs. Simpson's care and good school-training) as honest and truthful as the daylight, and he lost all patience at his father's suggestion. He forgot his duty to his parent, in short, he forgot everything but what enraged him past endurance that Upton had taken all his earnings, and wanted him to steal to gain more. 'No, that I won't, father," he said, "not if it were to keep myself from starving, much less to find you in drink; for that's how all my wages would go. Well! I'll not stay nigh you any longer; I'm an honest lad enough now, and I'd best keep so. I'll be off this night, and may be you'll never see me again." Before Upton could find words, half choked as he was with rage, to prevent his leaving the room, John was down stairs and in the narrow |