Poor Mrs. Barfoot was very weary before the hop-picking was over, but she was able to save a little money from her earnings, besides buying a new frock for Sally, and some calico for Johnny and herself. Not very long after she was settled upon the heath, she had a visit from the clergyman of a district Church that had been built out in that lonely country a few years before. It was nearly two miles away from her cottage, but still the clergyman hoped that she would be able to attend the service once on Sunday, and he very much wished that Sally should go to school. And Mrs. Barfoot wished it too, but did not know how to spare her on the weekdays, and she had no clothes to go in, and she determined that after the hop-picking she would contrive to get her a tidy frock, and send her regularly on Sundays, though she could not manage it during the week. How she would have lived through that winter I cannot think, if it had not been for the kindness of the clergyman and his wife. She was ill for a long time, and they came to see her often, and sent her broth continually, and many a nice dinner of meat and pudding; but with all that she was sometimes in great distress, for her husband, although he was kinder, and seemed more willing to work than he had been, could really very often get no employment, and had no money to spend in drink or to bring home for her and the children.

Still, although the wide purple heath, over which the dark clouds and the hoarse winds swept unbroken, was very different from the

village street, with all its cheerful sounds and voices, Mrs. Barfoot did not feel forsaken. There is something to be thankful for in every trouble. The mercy of heaven often raises us up some quite unexpected human comfort in our distress, and with infinite compassion makes the suffering that is needful for us, less bitter to our taste. Besides the kindness of the clergyman, for which she was very grateful, Mrs. Barfoot found help where she had least looked for it. It had vexed her much that her husband should have determined to settle on the heath so near the cottage of his friend, Daniel Fleetwell. Bad neighbours, she thought, were worse than none, and Dan was a known thief and poacher, and had been in the county gaol more than once in his life already. His wife was a loud-voiced, red-faced woman, who half frightened poor little Mrs. Barfoot the first time she had to do with her, and whose children tumbled about upon the heath, barefooted and unwashed, like little savages.

"Dan's took up again!" she said as she came into Mrs. Barfoot's cottage, one morning some weeks after the latter had come out there. "Dan's took up, and serve him right! I should not wonder a bit if he was transported this time, for he would not take my advice, and keep out of trouble. I told him as long as he kept to the poaching it did not signify, but he could not be content without regular thieving, and I knowed that would come to ill. However, I don't much care, for I can keep myself and the children very well with my basket-making; and I have brought

you a few potatoes in my apron, for I know you don't see much of John Barfoot's money whether he is in work or out."

“I am sure I wish that I could make baskets, or earn a penny some way," said poor Mrs. Barfoot, as she thanked her. "But I'm so weak, you see; and Johnny, he wants so much looking after. There is no one can tell what a handful that poor boy is to me, and it is not his fault neither, and, please God, I will do my duty by him, till such time as He shall think fit to take him. But I cannot get about after him everywhere, and I am in such fear of his coming to harm if he is alone."

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Oh, don't be cast down," said Mrs. Fleetwell; "there's better care taken of such as he, than of the rest of us, depend upon it; and you have got Sally to help you; and any little thing as I can do for you I am always willing, you may be sure. And so keep a good heart, and don't trouble yourself about nothing."

More than little things indeed, although she called them such, did Mrs. Fleetwell do for her poor new neighbour all that winter. Many odds and ends of food, of candles, of firewood-things of which she had no plenty herself, and which, therefore, it was hard to spare, did she give. Often did she come in and help Sally in her cleaning, or carry off Johnny for an hour or two to her own kitchen, where his mother was now not afraid to trust him, for she soon learnt that though Mrs. Fleetwell's voice was rough, her heart was kind, and she was more careful of the

son.

unfortunate child than if he had been her own So Mrs. Barfoot found a good deal of comfort in these new neighbours whom she had feared so much; but it must be owned that she found some evil too, particularly in regard to Sally. Partly from trouble of mind, and partly from weakness of health, Mrs. Barfoot had got into a complaining way of speaking, which was tiresome to hear. Perhaps this was one reason why she had lost her authority over Sally, who was a useful, handy girl, and not naturally illtempered; but she had fallen by degrees into a terribly disrespectful and pert manner, which vexed her mother very much, although she could not find the means to prevent it. When they came out on the heath this fault grew worse. Sally had, of course, a great deal to do for her mother, and she was always industrious; but the more she did, the more she got the upper hand; and she did not learn good words, or submissive ways, from the young Fleetwells, who, though their mother thumped and banged them about right and left when they came across her, were about as naughty and disobedient as they could be.

In rough and smooth, however, in worse and in better health, in care and in rest, in storm and frost, and gleams of cold sunshine, the winter passed at last. But late in the spring a new trouble came, for John Barfoot resolved to leave his wife and children, and go off in search of work to another part of the country where he heard that hands were wanted for some railway build

ings. He was a bad and sullen husband, but yet his wife could not bear that he should go away, and the many tears that she shed were caused much more by sorrow at losing him, than by fear as to what was to become of her and the children when he was gone. There was good reason for the latter, however, for there was small hope of his sending her a penny of his earnings; and what she would have done I cannot tell, if the clergyman had not succeeded in getting her some relief from the union. Before this could be settled, she and Sally for several days had not bread enough to satisfy their hunger; and all that time Mrs. Fleetwell insisted on giving Johnny his meals with her children. "For," she said, "if they grudged food to His innocents, God Almighty would take it out of their own mouths."

What with her mother's illness, and bad weather, Sally had not been able to attend very regularly at the Sunday-school during the winter, although the new frock had been bought and made for her to go in. But as the summer came on she never missed, for she was willing to learn, and her mother desirous that she should; so, though taking care of Johnny all day long made her weary, she never tried to keep her at home, unless she was quite laid up. Sally was generally steady and attentive at her lessons, and the clergyman's wife, and the others who taught in the school, did not know when they heard her say the Church Catechism, and repeat that she was "to love, honour, and succour her father