shall never be said, that I, man and boy for sixty years, should take such a pleasure from you to make me merry; -no, no, Miss, I can be merry without it, and depend upon it I'll never touch it." They now recollected the old fisherman that Charles used to visit so often, and always brought home some anecdote that proved him a frank, liberal, honest, though poor man. Lucy, who the moment she parted with her half-crown, felt increased value for it, grew eager now to give it to such nice feelings; but pressed it in vain. Pneumanee relieved the mutual embarrassment by giving the man another, and restoring the half-crown, with the beautiful impression, to Lucy's purse; who protested she was quite ashamed to have valued it more than the power of relieving the hungry and distressed. -"A folly," she said, "she would discard with the next object she met

with, she hoped for ever." Pneumanee, with a kind of respect, begged him to accept her offering as an acknowledgment of his worth, and her admiration of it; and put something more worth his acceptance into his hat than he had been in the habit of receiving.

As soon as their evening's work began, round a cheerful fire, which the chillness of the evening air required, they inquired if Pneumanee had seen her young friends safe in London ?— Yes, she had left them supremely happy there, and then detailed the circumstances of their journey; the joy they felt when they first got into the carriage; how fearful they had been, lest some circumstance, discomforting to future heirs or rent-rolls, should have destroyed their plan. Every object upon the journey was interesting;

3

the

the first hackney-coach delightful !— the numerous work-boxes, band-boxes, and baskets, were sometimes threatened to be turned out upon the road by their father; but so many pleaders, in favour of caps and bonnets, and no immediate mischief arising to his heirs, he submitted, with a smile, to the present inconvenience.

They were all astonishment, as they passed through the streets, where so many people could find houses, or the infinite number of houses find inhabitants? As soon as they reached their uncle's house, all the sofas, tables, and chairs, were fresh arranged; while their father fancied ruin and perpetual imprisonment, from the numberless parcels that filled the hall. What an obliging musician, they ex-claimed, to come unsolicited to play a hand-organ, immediately upon their arrival!

A

arrival!-what a charming uproar of coaches!-what busy streets!-what new and unalloyed felicity!

"It was quite delightful," Pneumanee said, "to see them all so happy. The next morning brought some little dismay, for one of the coachhorses was too ill to eat :-the dear girls thought it so lucky that it did not happen before they set out, while. their father grievously lamented that it happened at all. But how you will. pity them to hear, that having spent. all their money before they came to Town, in dresses for the purpose, they found both the form and colour all in: the wrong, and their fancied happiness gone in a moment! Who would have believed,' they said, they should so soon have been wretched in London!'

They were happily soon relieved from this discomfiture by the receipt of a letter, with a present of fifty pounds

pounds each, from an anonymous friend of their father's, who begged of them to enjoy it without endeavouring to trace the author, who was impenetrably secure, and was amply repaid by the pleasure conveyed to them.Their father immediately guessed who it was; and as his heirs could have no claims upon that property, he hoped they would fully enjoy it."

"I think," said Fanny, "it was their father; he seems a kind-hearted man, with a great unwillingness to appear so."—"I think," said Lucy, looking archly at Pneumanee, "I am sure it was not their papa-but it is wrong to attempt to discover what a person so amiable wishes to conceal." Pneumanee smiled her approbation at Lucy's growing prudence. They requested to hear more 'upon this subject, and learnt that Pneumanee had got for them a private box for the

play.