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His relations were now profuse in their thanks, and most urgent that these lessons should be continued; they even seemed to hope that he might one day be able to earn a little money by this simple art, and to relieve them of part of the burden of maintaining him.

But occupation to his mind was not the only good that the boy derived from these instructions; the unusual exercise of his hands, though at first it fatigued him, made them sensibly warmer and less torpid; and when he had once mastered the lesson, he was constantly anxious to be practising it.

Some persons may, perhaps, think it a remarkable thing that a stranger, on whom the poor boy had no claim, should have devoted so much time to his benefit, especially when she might have found soil to cultivate that would have brought her in a much more abundant harvest; but she was utterly without occupation, and had private grounds for sorrow which made her desire employment; and this boy's loneliness, and the absence of joy from his lot, drew her sympathies toward him; besides which, many around her were willing to do more attractive acts of kindness, -- but who would follow her in this path if she resigned it?

In less than three weeks, the boy could make an even and tolerably rapid plait, and would sit for four or five hours a day at this work, only requiring a little attention in joining the straw, and stopping him when he made mistakes.

The weather was extremely hot, which was very much in his favor; and all his friends agreed it was several years since they had seen him so lively and so capable of exerting himself.

This was scarcely a greater pleasure to them than to his new benefactress; for she had begun to take a warm interest in the boy, and could already understand his signs and gestures as well as his half-expressed doubts, wonders, and fears.

One day, on entering the cottage, she found the old grandfather at home ill. He had been ill, he said, for three days, though not so bad but that he could get up and sit by the fire. Close at his side sat poor Matt, and both, though the day was hot, seemed to relish the warmth. Matt could attend to but one thing at a time; and as his thoughts were now occupied with his grandfather, the plaits of straw were laid aside.

As soon as he saw her, he greeted her with vehement delight, pointing to two chairs successively, and saying, --

"Lady sit here; parson sit there."

She inquired if Mr. Green was coming.

"Yes, ma'am," said the old man. "I was taken very bad with a kind of fit, and my daughters were frightened and went and told him; but Matt calls every gentleman he sees 'parson,' and, indeed, every man that is not dressed like a fisherman. He has, but three names for all men. He calls our men 'good men,' at least such as have nets, for they let him lie and bask on them, which he likes; then all them that have no nets he calls 'poor men;' and the rest o' the world he calls 'parsons;' for our parson was the first gentleman he ever knew, and very good he has always been to him."

The clergyman shortly after came in, and poor Matt's teacher was warmly thanked for her kindness to the boy; he was anxious to see him plait, but Matt was pleased and excited by his presence, and not willing to fix his mind on his task; he accordingly turned to the grandfather, and began to converse with him.

The old man's illness was of a very serious nature, and at his great age it was not likely that he would get over it; yet he talked of approaching death with all that strange apathy so common among the poor, especially the aged poor. Accordingly, the clergyman's remarks were all of a nature to rouse him from this apathy; he wished to place the solemn nature of death and judgment before his eyes, and to assure him that his feeling so little afraid of dying was not in itself any proof that his soul was in a safe condition.

The boy, who at first had sat by his grandfather, well pleased with the warmth of the fire and the presence of the parson, kept up a humming sound, expressive of comfort and contentment, till Mr. Green took a Bible from his pocket and said gravely, --

"Matt must be quiet now, -- parson is going to read about God."

Upon hearing this, Matt's attention was aroused; and when he looked up and saw Mr. Green's serious face, his own assumed a look of awe; for it is a well-known fact that feelings are communicated, with perfect ease, to those who are deficient in intellect, though ideas of a complex nature are often beyond their comprehension. Matt folded his hands and gazed fixedly at the "parson." The chapter he was reading was the eighteenth of Matthew. Probably he chose it as being one of the lessons for the day; and if he had intended his lesson for Matt's instruction, he would have selected something that appeared easier to understand. But so it was, that when he came to the parable of the "king that would take account of his servants," Matt's attention and interest became so evident, that he read slowly and very distinctly. When he had finished, the boy's face, overawed and anxious, and with that look of painful perplexity so often seen in persons like himself, was turned to him with breathless earnestness, and he said, repeating the last words addressed to him, --