I 
 
LONDON : 
 
 GKOOMEEIDGE AKD BOKSj 24 CTENOSTEB iiOW 
 
imrft Mar; a Mcp €%k 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE ERG HEX WINDOW. 
 
 It was a fine spring evening on which, a dozen 
 or more village boys were playing and romp- 
 ing on the high road, just in front of the 
 new house which Mr. Graham had built for 
 himself. 
 
 Mr. Graham was no great favourite in the 
 village of Greenfield, for he was a stranger in 
 the place, and the people of Greenfield had a 
 silly dislike to strangers. Besides this, Mr. 
 Graham was rich j — oh, certainlv he must be 
 rich, else how could he have bought the six 
 acre meadow, and built a new house on a part 
 of it, and spent a wonderful sight of money as 
 well, in laying out the rest of the ground in 
 gardens and shrubberies ? Yes, yes, Mr. 
 Graham was rich, and the folks at Greenfield 
 were most of them poor, labouring people ; 
 and they were rather jealous of having a rich 
 man for a neighbour. 
 
 They might, however, have got over this 
 feeling ; but there wa3 another and a more 
 
6 
 
 DATID ALLEN: 
 
 natural cause for the dislike t\ ith which Mr. 
 Graham was looked upon by h is poor neigh- 
 bours : he was not always considerate or cour- 
 teous towards them in his manners and speech. 
 It is true he employed several of the poor men 
 of Greenfield, and paid them good wages, and 
 thus was doing them and their families real 
 good. But he was stern and rough ; he made 
 no scruple in telling his workmen that they 
 were as idle a s et of fellows as ever he had 
 seen, and that they cared for nothing but their 
 beer and their pay : and he had a way of 
 ' ordering them about,' as they said, 1 in a 
 manner that was very hard for flesh and blood 
 to bear.' 
 
 No one could deny that Mr. Graham was 
 charitable to his poor neighbours when any 
 of them were really in distress, nor that Mrs. 
 Graham was often in the cottages around, 
 trying, in her way, to increase the comforts of 
 then inhabitants. But these benefits were 
 not received very graciously, for the lady, too, 
 had a way of finding fault, and she was apt to 
 scold the poor women of Greenfield for not 
 keeping then houses clean, and their children 
 orderly and neat. And Mr. Graham had given 
 great offence, by complaining of the pig-sties 
 and dungnills which were stacked up close to 
 almost all the cottage walls, and by threaten- 
 ing to have them removed by law. 
 
 ' Let him try his hand at it,' said the people 
 of Greenfield, young and old ; 1 and we will 
 soon see who is master. He thinks he can do 
 everything because he has got money, but he 
 "an't though.' 
 
A TILLAGE TALE. 
 
 Then, Mr. Graham always would wear a 
 white hat, with a brim turned up with green 
 beaver. Such a queer hat had never before 
 been seen in Greenfield within the memory of 
 man, and almost everybody in the village 
 grinned and jeered when they first saw this 
 queer hat, while the boys hooted and shouted 
 after it and its wearer as they passed together 
 along the road. And when it was found that, 
 in spite of grins and laughter, Mr. Graham 
 would wear his white and green hat, his con- 
 duct was looked upon as an insult to the taste 
 and good sense of all Greenfield. So, of 
 course, the villagers took offence at this. 
 
 There was another cause for the ill-will of 
 the youths and boys of the village to this gen- 
 tleman. Before he had bought and built upon 
 the six acre meadow, it had been their regular 
 play ground : and they did not see what right 
 Mr. Graham, or any other Mister or Master 
 had to deprive them of it. 
 
 To begin the story again, therefore, the 
 dozen or more boys who, on that fine spring 
 evening, were playing and romping in front of 
 the new house, seemed highly delighted to find 
 that Mr. Graham showed signs of being 
 annoyed. 
 
 'Boys,' shouted the gentleman, throwing up 
 the drawing room window before he spoke ; 
 1 go farther off, boys. You have no business 
 to make such an uproar before any person's 
 dwelling.' 
 
 6 Shan't go for you,' drawled out a big boy 
 from the crowd of smaller ones ; 1 you can't 
 hinder us from playing here as long as we like. 1 
 
8 
 
 DAVID ALLEN" ; 
 
 * We slial). soon see that, my man, ? exclaimed 
 Mr. Graham, angrily ; and he was directly 
 afterwards seen coming out of his house with 
 a horse- whip in his hand. 
 
 The big boy was the first to run off when 
 lie saw this instrument brandished hi the air ; 
 and the lesser ones were not slow hi follow- 
 ing his example. But if Mr. Graham fancied 
 he had thus easily got rid of his tormentors, 
 he was mistaken. He had scarcely returned 
 to his bouse and shut down his window, be- 
 fore fresh shouts reached his ear ; the boys 
 had renewed their g .ume, taking care, however, 
 to watch, lest the horse -whip should fall upon 
 them unawares. 
 
 But they were in no further danger from 
 the horse whip, for Mr. Graham felt rather 
 ashamed of having given way to hasty anger, 
 and resolved to take no further notice of the 
 noisy group, wisely judging that they would 
 leave off when they were tired, and that oppo- 
 sition would only prolong the annoyance. 
 
 So the boys romped and shouted until they 
 were hoarse, and then they began to play with 
 a ball and bat. It was a good wide road for 
 them, and, for a time, they kept up the game 
 merrily ; but at length the ball was struck by 
 an unskilful hand, it bounded over the low 
 iron railing of Mr. Graham's front garden, 
 straight on to one of the drawing room win- 
 dows. 
 
 Smash, crash, clatter, and jingle ! The large 
 pane of glass was broken to shivers, and the 
 ball fell into the lap of a little girl who was 
 
A VILLAGE TALE. 
 
 9 
 
 sitting at the farther side of the room. Mr. 
 Graham started upon Lis feet as he heard the 
 crash, and — this time without the horse- whip 
 — he hastened out of the house to find out, if 
 he could, who had done the mischief. But 
 quick as he was, the boys were quicker. No 
 sooner were they conscious that a window was 
 broken, than they were off as fast as their 
 legs could carry them ; and Mr. Graham 
 reached his garden gate only in time to see the 
 hindermost little urchin turning round the 
 corner. 
 
 The injured gentleman ran down the road 
 in chase of the culprits ; but it was becoming 
 dusk, and great stone in the middle of the path 
 escaped his notice. He tripped against it, 
 and fell forward with great force upon the 
 rough ground, bruising his hands, knees, and 
 face, as he fell. There was an end of the 
 chase ; and smarting with pain, Mr. Graham 
 limped back again to his house, declaring that 
 the people of Greenfield were a set of savages, 
 and vowing all sorts of vengeance against the 
 boys of the place, especially the boy who had 
 broken his window — if he could but find him 
 out. 
 
 By the time he reached his drawing room, 
 however, his bad humour had disappeared ; 
 and when his darling daughter Edith — the 
 little girl into whose lap the offending ball had 
 fallen — kissed his bruised hands and face, and 
 begged him not to think any more about it, 
 he could even laugh at his misfortune ; and 
 he gave such a funny description of his wild- 
 goose chase, as he called it, as made her laugh 
 
10 
 
 DAVID ALLEN ; 
 
 heartily too ; so that it might have seemed 
 one of the funniest things in the world to hav>.> 
 a window smashed now and then. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE CONFESSION. 
 
 Before we get any farther, I may as -veil tell 
 you, in a few words, all that need he here 
 known ahout Mr. Graham. For the greater 
 part of his life he had been a busy tradesman 
 in busy London ; and had at length saved 
 money enough to enable him to ret ire from 
 trade. He liked a country life, and having, 
 on some occasion, passed through Greenfield, 
 he had taken a fancy to live in that village. 
 So he bought the six-acre meadow, and built 
 a house, as the reader has already been told. 
 His family consisted of himself, his wife, and 
 his only child, Edith, who, at the time of his 
 leaving London, was about twelve years old. 
 
A VILLAGE TALE. 
 
 11 
 
 A governess, a man-servant, and three maids 
 made up the rest of his household ; while a 
 little pony chaise, with a pony to match, oc- 
 cupied the stable and coach-house on one side 
 of Mr. Graham's premises. We will now go 
 on with our storv. 
 
 The morning after the affair of the broken 
 window, as Mr. Graham sat at breakfast with 
 his wife and daughter, Robert, the man-servant 
 entered, and told his master that a little boy 
 wanted to see him very particularly. 
 
 'What is his business, and who is he?' 
 asked Mr. Graham. 
 
 4 He says his name is David Alien, sir f 
 Robert replied ; ' but he wont give me any 
 message ; he says he would rather see you 
 himself.' 
 
 i Yery well, he must wait then ; or stay, 
 take him round to the window, and I will 
 hear what he has got to say there.' 
 
 * Allen,' said Mrs. Graham. 'That is the 
 name of the widow woman that keeps a man- 
 gle in the village, and sells haberdashery. She 
 has got a boy ; is it he, I wonder ?' 
 
 1 A lazy, impudent young rogue, like all the 
 rest of them, I dare say,' grumbled Mr. Gra- 
 ham, who had not quite forgotten the broken 
 pane of glass, and his broken skin, which was 
 at that time ornamented with bits of Diack 
 sticking plaster. ' I should not wonder if he 
 were one of the young rascals that were play- 
 ing in the road last night, and now he has 
 the impudence to come and beg of me, likely 
 enough. But I will soon settle his business. 
 
 By this time the visitor, whatever might be 
 
12 
 
 DAVID ALLEN ; 
 
 his concern with Mr. Graham, was standing in 
 front of the breakfast room window, with his 
 hat very tightly held between his hands, and 
 his bare head bobbing np and down, like the 
 head of a Chinese Mandarin — snch as may 
 sometimes be seen in a shop window, bowing 
 to all the passengers on the pavement as they 
 pass. 
 
 "Very unlike in every other respect, however, 
 to a Chinese Mandarin, was the ten-year old 
 light, curly-haired, bine-eyed, ruddy-faced, and 
 stont-bnilt little fellow, who stood nodding at 
 the window before the breakfast party. His 
 clothes were patchy and worn, but they were 
 neatly put on, and even Mr. Graham, in his 
 own mind, dismissed the thought that one of 
 his last night's tormentors stood before him. 
 
 'Well, my boy, what is your errand?' he 
 asked, in a milder tone than was usual with 
 him. 
 
 * If you please, sir,' — here the boy hesitated, 
 stammered, and looked into the very bottom 
 of the crown of his hat, as if his message lay 
 there, and he were trying to read it. 
 
 * Don't be afraid, my man ; speak out. 
 What do you say your name is ?' 
 
 ' David Allen, sir ; I live down in the street 
 and my mother keeps shop, and a mangle.' 
 
 ' Well, David, and what does your mother 
 want ?' continued Mr. Graham. 
 
 * 'Tisn't mother wants anything, sir,' replied 
 David ; ; onlv she sent me to — to—' 
 
 * Bless the boy,' exclaimed Mr. Graham im- 
 patiently : 1 he means to stop there all day I 
 believe. Do tell me what you came for, and 
 have done with it.' 
 
A TILLAGE TALE 
 
 13 
 
 'Please sir,' said David, with, a strong effort 
 which made his blue eyes twinkle ; 'please sir, 
 it was I that ' another stop. 
 
 c That what ?' inquired Mr. Graham sharply. 
 
 ' That broke your window last night, sir,' 
 said the boy, with a sort of desperate resolu- 
 tion. 
 
 c Oh, you did, did you ?' replied Mr. Gra- 
 ham ; ' well, what have you to say about it ?' 
 
 ' Please sir, I am very sorry ' 
 
 c That wont mend the glass you broke, my 
 lad,' said the gentleman, very sternly. 
 
 The boy fumbled in his pocket, and pulling 
 out a little bag, answered timidly; 'please 
 sir, tell me how much 'tis to pay.' 
 
 ' More money than you have to spare, I 
 expect. Do you know that it will cost ten 
 shillings to have that window mended ?' 
 
 Little David turned very red, and then very 
 pale, when he heard this. He put his little 
 bag on the window sill inside, and sobbed out, 
 ' I have not got so much money as that, sir ; 
 but I will pay it ; I will indeed, if you will 
 trust me, sir.' 
 
 ' I don't know about that, my man,' replied 
 Mr. Graham harshly ; ' let me see first how 
 much you have brought.' Saying this, he 
 walked to the window, t ook the little bag, and 
 emptied its contents on a table. 
 
 It was a curious medlev. First there WJi 
 a crooked sixpence, or what had once been 
 sixpence, worn very thin and quite smooth. 
 Then there was a shilling, of an old coinage, 
 but as bright and perfect as when it first 
 came out of the mint. There were also two 
 
14 
 
 DAVID ALLEN ; 
 
 silver pennies of an ancient date, and one 
 solitary sixpence besides. This was all the 
 silver money ; bnt the bag contained, also, live 
 bright farthings, three half-pennies, three 
 pennies, one large two-penny piece in copper, 
 and about half a dozen old penny tokens. 
 Altogether, the real value of David Allen s 
 treasure might amount to three shillings. # 
 
 Without speaking a word while domg^ it, 
 Mr. Graham examined and counted the coins, 
 tied them up in the bag, unlocked a drawer, 
 put the bag in it, and locked up the drawer 
 Lain. He then said very coldly and gravely, 
 'Well, David, this wont much more than a 
 quarter pay for the damage done ; when do 
 you propose to bring the rest ?' 
 
 David seemed quite disheartened by Mr. 
 Graham's proceedings; nevertheless, he pluck- 
 ed up courage to say that his mother gave him 
 a penny a week to spend, and that sometimes 
 he earned a few pence, which he would bring 
 from time to tune, if Mr. Graham would take 
 the money in that way. _ 
 
 Mr. Graham shook his head. < It will be a 
 long time before I get paid at this rate, he 
 said; 6 we must find some better plan than 
 this presently ; but first of all, my lad, tell 
 me what made you come to me at all ? 
 
 'Please sir,' David answered ; I knew that 
 it was I that broke the window ; and when 1 
 went home I told mother about it ; and she 
 said I must come and tell you.' 
 
 ' Quite right of your mother ; but why did 
 you run away last night, instead of staying to 
 tell me of the accident then?' 
 
A VILLAGE TALE. 
 
 15 
 
 c I thought you would catch me aucl beat 
 me,' replied David ; ' for you seemed so cross.' 
 
 ' Cross, eh ?* said Mr. Graham, in his sharp 
 manner ; ' cross you thought me, did you ? 
 And dont you think, my boy, that I had a 
 right to be cross, when a parcel of rude, ill- 
 bred boys were making an uproar in front of 
 my house, and would not go away when they 
 were told ? You seem a decent sort of lad, I 
 wonder you should have been among them : 
 pray, do you go to school ?' 
 
 4 IS"o, sir, only to Sunday School at Ashton ; 
 I go there every Sunday.' 
 
 4 Oh, Sunday School, eh ? Well, did they 
 never tell you there that * evil communications 
 corrupt good manners' ?' 
 
 4 Yes, sir,' said David. c I am very sorry, 
 sir, that I did not go away when you told us 
 last night.' 
 
 1 1 dare say you are ; you would not have 
 broken my window if you had. Well, you 
 are a good boy, though, for coming to acknow- 
 ledge your fault ; so we wont say any more 
 about that. But now, about paying for it. 
 It is not right, is it, that I should bear the 
 loss ? Your confession wont help us out there, 
 will it ?' 
 
 4 JSo, sir,' David answered, again looking into 
 the depth of his hat. 
 
 I Well then, what shall we do ? How do 
 you spend your time, David ?' 
 
 I I help mother mangle sometimes, sir ; and 
 go errands for her.' 
 
 4 Well, you can work then ; suppose now 
 you were to come and work in mv garden 
 
.16 
 
 DAVID ALLEN ; 
 
 three hours a day, or do any other odd jobs — 
 are you willing to work out your debt in that 
 way ?' 
 
 'Yes, sir,' exclaimed David, brightening up. 
 ' Very well,' continued the gentleman ; ' but 
 mind, I must have my money's worth out of 
 you, some way or other. I mean to be fair ; 
 and you must be fair too. Now let us reckon. 
 What do you think three hours work from 
 such a little fellow as you are, is worth ?' 
 
 4 I don't know, sir,' said the boy. 
 
 1 Well, I think if we say a penny an hour, 
 it will be high wages, wont it ? however, we 
 will say that. Then six times three are 
 eighteen — one and sixpence a week ; and five 
 times that will make seven shillings and six- 
 pence. You must work then three hours a 
 day, for five wjiole weeks, and then, if I keep 
 your bag and what it contains, we shall stand 
 about square with each other. Will that do ?' 
 
 6 Yes sir, if you please,' said David ; 4 when 
 shall I come, sir ? 
 
 1 There's no time like the present, David ; 
 vcu had better bemn now.' 
 
 ' May I run home, and tell mother, sir ?' 
 said the bov. 
 
 1 O, by all means ; come in an hour's time, 
 and I will set you to work. 
 
 e Poor boy,' said Mrs. Graham, when David 
 had disappeared ; 'you don't mean to make 
 him work for nothing, do you, Mr. Graham ?' 
 
 4 For nothing, my dear ? certainly no t ; he 
 
A VILLAGE TALE. 
 
 17 
 
 lias Lad Ms pay beforehand, lias lie not, in the 
 broken window ?' 
 
 Little Edith thought her father was very 
 hard upon poor David, but she did not say so, 
 only that her eyes told tales. 
 
 As to widow Allen, she only told David, 
 after hearing his story, that Mr. Graham had 
 a right to take the debt ont in work if he 
 chose, and she encouraged him to be willing 
 and industrious. 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 THE LITTLE GAEEEKER. 
 
 Four weeks had passed away, and the last 
 day of the fifth was come. In all this time, 
 David had honourably fulfilled his engage- 
 ment, but very little notice had been taken of 
 him by Mr. Graham ; indeed, the sharp and 
 quick way in which that gentleman talk 
 quite daunted the boy, and made him glad 
 keep out c£ his way as much as he coidd. 
 
 It wag not so, however, when Miss B 
 was in sight 5 for Edith always had someth 
 merry and kind to say to little David, 
 tell the truth, Edith was very much concern 
 that the young gardener had to toil every day 
 in her father's garden, and get nothing for it ; 
 and much as she respected her father, she 
 could not help thinking that, in this case, he 
 was not doing just as he himself would like to 
 be served. But little girls are not always the 
 
IS 
 
 DAVID ALLEN ; 
 
 best judges of their parents' actions, neither 
 are little boys ; and those are the happiest, 
 and generally the wisest children who trust 
 everything to the kindness and wisdom of their 
 parents and who are scarcely able to believe that 
 what a father or a mother does can he wrong. 
 
 Perhaps Edith would have said — for she 
 was a very trusting and affectionate child — 
 
 * I do not think papa is wrong, only I dont 
 just understand him, and I do feel for poor 
 David.' 
 
 Well, the five weeks had nearly passed away 
 when Mr. Graham went into the garden where 
 David was at work. 
 
 ' 80 David,' he said, in his usual sharp way, 
 
 * I suppose you are very glad your time is so 
 near out, eh ?' 
 
 ' Fo, sir,' David answered, looking up from 
 the piece of ground he was weeding, — 'No, 
 sir, not particularly.' 
 
 'Take care — take care,' shouted Mr. Gra- 
 ham, so loud and fierce, that David changed 
 colour and almost trembled ; c there, see what 
 you have done— trodden clown that plant, and 
 broken off the finest flower-stem. Why dont 
 you use your eyes, boy ? There, there, never 
 mind now, you cannot mend it ; but you ought 
 to be more careful. Well, I think you have 
 worked pretty well, all things considered ; but 
 you are not to think I am going to pay you 
 for it, — you have had your pay out already, 
 you know.' 
 1 Yes sir.' 
 
 ' And the bargain was for me to keep your 
 money-bag and all its contents ?' 
 
A VILLAGE TALE. 
 
 19 
 
 f Yes sir : but — but — ' and David burst into 
 tears. 
 
 ' But what ? — there, you need not cry : 
 speak out ; I like everybody about nie to speak 
 out, — but what, my man ?' 
 
 c If you please, sir,' sobbed David, c I should 
 like the bag again, sir, it was my poor father's, 
 sir, and he is dead ; and some of the bits of 
 money were his, sir. Oh, wouldn't you let me 
 work it out, if you please ? I'll work five 
 weeks more, sir, for my bag.' 
 
 ? iSTo, no,' replied Mr. Graham, in a much 
 kinder voice than that in which he had hither- 
 to spoken ; ' Ko, no, David, that wouldn't be 
 fair, either. Let us have what is right. But 
 if you value the bag, and the bits of money so 
 much, why did you bring them to me ?' 
 
 4 1 did not think you would care to keep the 
 bag, sir,' said the boy ; ' and I had no other 
 money, and mother hadn't either, that morn- 
 mjr. But if vou wont let me work it out, 
 would you please to let me change some of the 
 bits of money, as soon as I can get any to 
 change with ?' 
 
 c I did not say you should not work it out, 
 David ; and since you wish it, you shall give 
 me ten more days — three hours a day, you 
 know. Ten times three will be thirty pence, 
 that is two shillings and sixpence ; and with 
 that and what you have already done, the 
 broken window will be paid for. You can 
 then have back your treasure ; will that do ?' 
 
 6 Yes sir, thank you sir,' was all that David 
 could say. 
 
DAVID ALLE1T 5 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 EDITH. 
 
 Two or three days after tlie new arrangement- 
 spoken of in the last chapter, Edith Graham 
 ran down the garden steps in search of David. 
 She had a little book in her hand, wrapped in 
 paper. After a short search, she found the 
 young gardener sweeping the cut grass from 
 a sloping piece or ground in the shrubbery, 
 which had that morning been mowed. 
 
 • I am glad I have found you at last, David,' 
 she said, ' see, here is a new book for you ; 
 mama said I might give it you : it was bought 
 on purpose for you.' 
 
A VILLAGE TALF 
 
 21 
 
 . David very willingly took the present into 
 his hands, and thanked the giver very heartily 
 and sincerely for her kindness. 
 
 ' You can write your name in it when yon 
 get home, you know,' she said ; ' and you may 
 put in it that it was given you by Edith Gra- 
 ham, if you please ; for I bought" it yesterday 
 at Ashton with my own money. Papa said I 
 might j and he says you are a good boy, and 
 he likes you because you are industrious and 
 not slv. 5 
 
 * Did he really say so, Miss ?' asked David 
 eagerly, and blushing while he spoke. 
 
 I Yes, he did really ; so you need not be 
 afraid of him. It is only his way to talk g 
 little loud and quick. He is very' kind : yon 
 dont know how much I love him.' 
 
 I I dare say you do, Miss,' said David, with 
 a sigh, and sweeping the grass with double 
 energy ; c I dare say you do. I had a father 
 once,' he added, but he spoke in so low a tone 
 that Edith did not hear what he said. 
 
 ' And you will write your name in the book 
 then ?' 
 
 David shook his head mournfully : ' I 
 would like you to do it, if you please, Miss 
 Graham, I — I — cannot write'.' 
 
 4 Not write ! Have you never learned to 
 write, David ?' 
 
 David told her that he had not ; that there 
 was no school in Greenfield; that the nearest 
 school where he could be taught writing was 
 at Ashton, three miles off; and that his 
 mother could not afford to send him there.' 
 
 4 What a sad pitftf thought Edith; and 
 
22 
 
 DAVID ALLEN ; 
 
 then, to satisfy her curiosity perhaps, she led 
 on David to talk about his home and his 
 mother. 
 
 c Ye%' said David, in answer to some ques- 
 tion of Edith's ; 4 Oh, yes, mother was better 
 off once, when father was alive ; but that was 
 a long while ago.' 
 
 'How long ?' asked the little maid. 
 
 David could not say how long exactly : it 
 might be five or six years. 
 
 * Did you live in Greenfield then ?' Edith 
 wanted to know. 
 
 4 Yes,' said David, ' but not where we do 
 now ; we lived at Up-hill Farm.' He then 
 went on to say that when his father died, every 
 thing his mother had was sold ; and his mother 
 and himself were obliged to leave their comfort- 
 able home, and go into the little cottage in the 
 village where they now lived. Some of the 
 people, he said, had been kind to them ; and 
 by that means his mother had been able to 
 buy the mangle and a small stock of goods 
 to help her to a living ; but for all that, they 
 they often fared very hard — ' and,' continued 
 David, ' mother sometimes frets about what is 
 to become of us ; but I shall soon be able to 
 work and earn money, I hope.' 
 
 Edith Graham went away quite affected by 
 David's simple story ; and while he was mak- 
 ing up for the few minutes he had lost, and 
 perhaps trying to drive away his sorrow- 
 ful recollections by using his broom with 
 double industry, the young lady had found 
 her father, and was seated on a low stool by 
 his side, in Ins own little parlour or counting- 
 
A TILLAGE TALE. 
 
 23 
 
 house as lie called it, with her face half-resting 
 lovingly on liis knee. 
 
 'You are a coaxing young advocate,' said 
 Mr. Graham, when Edith had repeated to him 
 all she had just heard from David's own lips ; 
 * but you have thrown away a good many 
 words. I knew the history of David before 
 to-day.' 
 
 c Is it not a pity he cannot go to school ?' 
 asked Edith. 
 
 c I think it is,' replied Mr. Graham. ' When 
 children do not go to school, and have no em- 
 ployment for their time, they often get into 
 mischief, — do they not ?' 
 
 1 David is sorry he broke that window, I am 
 sure,' Edith said. 
 
 1 I dare say he is ; though how you should 
 be quite sure of it I do not see so clearly. 
 However, he has nearly worked out the price 
 of it, so the matter is settled.' 
 
 6 Papa,' continued the persevering girl, 'you 
 have plenty of money, have you not V 
 
 1 Plenty of money for all our wants, Edith — 
 yes, I think I have,' 
 
 ' And David and his mother are very poor/ 
 said Edith, softly. 
 
 ' 1 am afraid they are, Edith,' her father 
 answered, ' and what then ?' 
 
 c Oh, papa, you know what I mean : could 
 you not give them a little of your money ?' 
 
 ' O yes, Edith, I could certainly ; but why 
 should I do so ?' 
 
 ' It Avould do them good, and make them 
 happy,' replied the young lady. 
 
 • I am not quite sure of that, my dear girl, 1 
 
24 
 
 DAVID ALLEN" ; 
 
 said Mr. Graham : £ money lias not always 
 that effect ; and it often happens that persons 
 who freely give money away with the hope of 
 doing good to their fellow- creatures, are 
 greatly disappointed. It would be very easy 
 for me, no doubt, and it might be pleasant 
 too, to fill up David's little bag with silver, 
 and send him home with it : but I am not so 
 sure that it would be really kind to him or to 
 his mother, to do so.' 
 
 Edith looked as though she did not under* 
 stand her father. 
 
 4 1 will try to explain to you what I mean,' 
 continued Sir. Graham. ' After a little time, 
 the money thus given to the poor is spent ; 
 and they are then left in the same condition, 
 or nearly the same, that they were before, 
 only, perhaps, they may have more wants and 
 greater cravings.' 
 
 * But papa,' said Edith, c I am sure you do 
 give money to the poor sometimes, and often.' 
 
 'Yes, my girl, to those who cannot help 
 themselves, such as the aged and the sick. 
 13 ut when there are ways of earning money by 
 honest industry and exertion, I think it is 
 better to put the poor into some such way 
 than to give them money for doing nothing. 
 Do you not think so ?' 
 
 Edith could not deny this, and her father 
 went on : 
 
 ' You have heard of Peter the Great ?' 
 1 Yes, papa ; he was emperor of Russia.' 
 
 * Well, I will tell you a story about him- 
 He once spent some weeks in a part of hi3 
 country where was a large manufactory of 
 
A VILLAGE TALE. 
 
 25 
 
 iron ; as was his custom, lie wished to learn 
 something about this manufacture, and for 
 that purpose, he determined to work at the 
 forge himself. It is said that he was at his 
 post every day, and worked harder than any 
 of the regular workmen, until, after a short 
 space of time, he became a good blacksmith. 
 The last day on which he was employed he 
 forged eighteen poods of iron 5 
 
 4 What is a pood, papa ?' asked Edith, in- 
 terrupting her father in his story. 
 
 4 A pood, my dear, is forty pounds. "Well, 
 Peter forged eighteen poods of iron, and then 
 he bade good-bye to his fellow-workmen, for 
 he had other business to attend to. 
 
 4 Soon afterwards, Peter called upon the 
 owner of the ironworks, and, after thanking 
 him for the sight of his establishment, with 
 which he said he had been much gratified, he 
 asked, 
 
 4 4 How much do you pay a workman for 
 forging a pood of iron f 
 
 4 4 Three copecks, or an altin,' replied the 
 ironfounder. 
 
 4 4 Very good,' said Peter ; 4 then on the last 
 day I worked for you I earned eighteen alt ins, 
 and I am come to be paid.' 
 
 4 The manufacturer went to his desk, and 
 got out eighteen ducats, which he laid before 
 the emperor : c I cannot think of offering less 
 to a royal workman, please your majesty,' 
 said he. 
 
 4 4 Put up your ducats,' said Peter ; 4 1 will 
 not take more than I have earned. Give me 
 my due. It will buy me a pair of shoes, which 
 
26 
 
 DAYID ALLEN ; 
 
 you may see I am in want of j' and he lifted 
 his foot to show that the shoes he had on were 
 the worse for wear. 
 
 4 So the eighteen altins were paid him j and 
 the emperor went directly to a shop, and 
 bought a pair of shoes, which he put on with 
 great delight. He thought he had never be- 
 fore had such a famous pair of shoes ; he 
 showed them with triumph to those about him. 
 1 See,' said he, 4 how well they fit ; what good 
 shoes they are ; I have earned them well : they 
 were purchased by the sweat of my brow, 
 with hammer and anvil.' There Edith, what 
 do you think of the story ?' 
 
 'It is a very good one,' Edith answered, 
 1 and I think I know your meaning.' 
 
 'That what is obtained by industry or ex- 
 ertion is more valued and more valuable than 
 what is obtained without effort, — is not that 
 it ?' 
 
 4 Yes papa.' 
 
 4 Well then, young lady, is not that a very 
 good reason why I should not do what you 
 seem to wish, — 1 that is, give my money for 
 nothing to David Allen and his mother.' 
 
 4 Bnt,' replied Edith, 4 it would not be quite 
 for nothing ; for David has worked for you, 
 has he not, papa ? And besides, though they 
 do work, they have not enough — not enough 
 to eat sometimes, David says.' 
 
 4 That is sad, certainly,' said Mr. Grraham ; 
 but let us see if something else cannot be done 
 for them, instead of paying them for being 
 idle : for that is what money is too often given 
 away for. But first of all, I must tell you that 
 
A TILLAGE TALE. 
 
 27 
 
 I do not intend to pay David — with money at 
 least — for the work he has already done. He 
 had his payment out beforehand, and has only 
 worked out a debt.' 
 
 ' But,' replied the persevering young advo- 
 cate ; — i but papa,' — and then she stopped 
 short. 
 
 c You think me hard, I see ; and it m your 
 opinion that David's honesty and candour 
 ought to be rewarded ; — have you never been 
 told, Edith, that ' virtue is its own reward ?' 1 
 
 Yes Edith had heard this, but still it was 
 quite plain that a doubt or two remained in 
 her mind. 
 
 ' 1 think, then, that David should be per- 
 mitted to enjoy this reward, and not have his 
 pleasure spoiled by being paid for acting pro- 
 perly. But as David has shown himself to be 
 an industrious lad, as well as trustworthy, that 
 will be a very good reason why I should try 
 to advance him a little in the world, — dont 
 you think so, Edith ?' 
 
 O yes, Edith did think so ; and she now 
 began to think her father not at all unreason- 
 able. 
 
 c I am willing, also,' continued Mr. Graham, 
 { to assist his mother, for her own sake as Well 
 as for David's ; for it is plain she has good 
 principle, — but I must assist her in my own 
 way, and not exactly by giving her money for 
 doing nothing. The proper way to help her, 
 I think, is by encouraging her to use all her 
 energies, and to do all she can for her little 
 orphan boy as well. In part she has neglected 
 this duty.' 
 
2S 
 
 DAVID ALLEN J 
 
 Edith looked sttrpHsed. 
 
 c I have not yet met with a single person in 
 Greenfield,' continued Mr. GhMtham, * wlio is 
 floing all that can be done to belter his own 
 circumstances. Every one seems to think that 
 enougn Las been done when a day's work has 
 been drawled through, and the wages have 
 been paid. This is too much the case with 
 Mrs. Allen. Your mother bought some goods 
 of her yesterday, and had a bill of them. The 
 bill was neatly enough written, and correctly 
 cast up, by the woman herself ; and yet you 
 tell me that David cannot write or cypher. 
 Why has not liis mother taught him ? I dare 
 
 */ CD 
 
 say now she would tell you what a sad thing 
 it is that she is not able to pay for her boy's 
 schooling, and would think it very kind of any 
 one to pay for it in her stead, when, all the 
 while, she has been able, by a little exertion, to 
 give him such an education as would fit him 
 for all the common duties of life.' 
 
 s Well, I see you are impatient to know my 
 plans : — first of all, then, when David lias 
 fairly worked out his debt, not before, I in- 
 tend that he shall continue to work for me 
 three hours a day, — that is, if he pleases, and 
 I will pay him for his labour. Then, as there 
 is no other shop in Greenfield, and the people 
 of the place are obliged to go several miles to 
 spend their money, I think it might answer 
 for Mrs. Allen to keep a larger stock of goods, 
 and a greater variety ; if she chooses to do so, 
 I will assist her, and bear the risk of it.' 
 
 * Thank you, papa,' exclaimed Edith ; £ that 
 will be better than giving money for nothing.' 
 
A VILLAGE TALE. 
 
 29 
 
 'And then,' said Mr. Graham, c as it is a 
 great pity David should grow up to be a man 
 without knowing how to write, or to cast an 
 account, we must encourage his mother to 
 teach him. If she will not do it, I do not 
 know who should. By some such means as 
 these, we shall do more real good to David and 
 his mother than by giving them money merely 
 out of charity — money that would soon be 
 spent, if not wasted . do you not think so, 
 Edith ? 
 
 Yes, Edith was convinced that her lather 
 was right, and that, even in being generous, a 
 good plan and a wise principle are better than 
 nc plan and no principle. 
 
 Mr. Graham's plans for the benefit of David 
 Allen and his mother were soon carried into 
 effect. When the boy had fairly earned back 
 his little bag, — so valueless, and yet to him so 
 precious, — with its various contents, lie was 
 told that he might continue to work in Mr. 
 Graham's garden, and that he should receive 
 good payment for his future labour. 
 
 This was good news to David, and he ran 
 home to tell it to his mother. 
 
 ►Soon afterwards the widow Allen had a 
 visit from Mr. Graham, who commended her 
 for the good principle she and her son had 
 shown in the affair of the broken window, and 
 praised little Da^id for his industry and stead- 
 iness. At the same time, he gently blamed 
 her for having neglected some other parts of 
 
30 
 
 DAVID ALLEN ; 
 
 his education ; and then he made the propo- 
 sal to her which he had already mentioned to 
 Edith. I need not say that it was very thank- 
 fully accepted. 
 
 In the course of a week or two, a new stock 
 of goods was to be seen in Mrs. Allen's win- 
 dow, and in the front room of her cottage, 
 which was now altered into a neat little shop ; 
 and, before long, the people of Greenfield dis- 
 covered that they were able to buy their gro- 
 ceries and other necessaries of life as cheaply 
 at Mrs. Allen's as elsewhere ; and as it was 
 more convenient for them to have a shop so 
 handy to their liomes, the widow had no rea- 
 son to complain of want of business. Before 
 many months had passed away, she was able 
 to pay back to Mr. Graham a part of the 
 money he had kindly lent her to trade with. 
 
 In the meantime David, with some teaching 
 from his mother, and much encouragement 
 from Edith, and a little sharp looking-after 
 from Edith's father, had made some progress 
 in writing and arithmetic, and A\as looking 
 forward with some good hope of getting on in 
 the world in due time. 
 
 1 It was a good thing, after all,' he some- 
 times said to himself, ' that I broke Mr. Gra- 
 ham's drawing-room window.' 
 
 Nonsense, David. The good thing was that 
 you had honesty, resolution, good principle, 
 and a mother who encouraged you to do what 
 was right. 
 
A TILLAGE TALE. 
 
 31 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 TEMPTATION. 
 
 If any of my young readers should imagine 
 that David Allen's fortune is now made, with- 
 out any trouble on his part, just in conse- 
 quence of one act of straightforward honesty 
 they are very much mistaken. Every day has 
 its duties ; and if we fail to act properly to- 
 day, it will not be of much use to us that we 
 were not overtaken in a fault yesterday. 
 
 Eor two years David worked steadily and 
 industriously for his friend Mr. Graham ; and 
 when he was not thus employed, he was very 
 useful to his mother, whose little business con- 
 tinued to prosper ; but then a circumstance 
 occurred which showed that even well-disposed 
 boys are not beyond the power of temptation. 
 
 My readers will not have forgotten the rude 
 boys in w r hose company David was found when 
 he broke Mr. Graham's drawing-room win- 
 dow ; and that there was one especially, who 
 led on the rest — the first to begin the mischief 
 and the first to run away from the danger. It 
 is no uncommon thing for a bravo to be a 
 coward. 
 
 Dick Atkins — for that was the boy's name 
 — was one of the idlest bovs in Greenfield ; 
 and he had often sneered at David for 1 slaving 
 away, 5 as he said, 'for his mother and old 
 
32 
 
 DAVID ALLEN; 
 
 white-hat;' and very often would lie try to 
 entice the little fellow from his work. But 
 against this temptation David was very strong. 
 When, however, David had finished his work 
 for Mr. G-raham, and his mother had nothing 
 particular for him to do, he was too often seen 
 with Dick and Dick's companions, though he 
 took care to play where there was no danger 
 of breaking more windows, or of annoying his 
 master. 
 
 Tillage boys often gamble : and the boys of 
 Greenfield were fond of gambling games. They 
 made leaden medals about the size of farthings, 
 these they called dumps, and with them they 
 played at pitch and toss. They gambled also 
 with buttons in the same way. I am afraid 
 that neither lead nor buttons were always 
 honestly come by, for when dumps were in 
 fashion, the folks at Greenfield had to look 
 sharply after their leaden pipes and gutters ; 
 and when buttons were the favourite gambling 
 jDlaythings, the mothers used to complain that 
 there was no keeping these useful things on 
 their children's clothes, nor in their work-bags 
 neither. 
 
 But gambling with dumps and buttons leads 
 to other gambling : and as some of the boys 
 of G-reen field got older, they put away these 
 childish things, and gambled with half-pence. 
 
 One summer's evening, when David had fin- 
 ished work at Mr. Graham's ; and his mother 
 had nothing particular for him to do, he strol- 
 led into the village street in search of a play- 
 fellow, and the first boy he met was Dick 
 Atkins. Had David been wise he would have 
 
A TILLAGE TALE. 
 
 33 
 
 passed him without stopping to say more than 
 a civil ' How do you do ?' or he would h i 
 crossed over to the other side, and so have 
 avoided him altogether ; for David knew that 
 Dick was an idle, mischievous, and also a 
 quarrelsome boy. But David, in this instance, 
 was not wise. 
 
 'Well David/ said Dick, with a sort of 
 sneer, ' you have done work for to-day, I sup- 
 pose ?' 
 
 c Yes,' replied David. 
 
 4 "What a big silly you are,' said the idle 
 boy, ' to go on slaving every day. What's the 
 good of it ?' 
 
 'Money, for one thing, 5 David answered: 
 4 1 get money for my work.' There was a lit- 
 tle boasting in this speech of David, I am 
 afraid. 
 
 'Money!' exclaimed Dick, with a loud 
 laugh ; ' and I can get money without work. 
 Look here and he pulled out of the pocket 
 of his ragged trousers a small handful of half- 
 pence ; 1 there you have not earned more than 
 that to-day, I reckon, and I didn't work for it 
 either. 5 
 
 David — silly David — was proud to show 
 that he was as well off as idle Dick, and he 
 too put his hand into his pocket, and pulled 
 out a little purse which seemed pretty well 
 filled : — ' there,' he said. 
 
 Dick looked much as though he had a 
 strong inclination to snatch away the purse 
 and its contents from David, and run off with 
 it. But he knew this would not be safe* - 
 
34 
 
 DAYID ALLEN ; 
 
 There was another way, liowever, of trying to 
 make David's money his own. 
 
 ' I'll toss up with you for a penny,' said 
 Dick. 
 
 1 JSo you wont,' was David's answer. 
 
 A loud scornful laugh bm-st from Dick's 
 throat : < Yah, you are afraid, vou coward.' 
 
 David did not like this ; and to prove that 
 he was not a coward, he consented to play. 
 One game led to another. At first David 
 seemed anxious only to prove that he was not 
 more afraid to risk m> money than was Dick 
 Atkins ; but very soon the spirit of gambling 
 came upon him, and his anxiety was to win 
 Dick's money, if he could. 
 
 But Dick had learned ways of cheating, 
 which made him pretty sure of keeping his 
 own, and of obtaining possession of David's 
 property into the bargain. And he was right 
 in his expectations. After playing for more 
 than an hour, David's little purse was quite 
 emptied^; and he owed Dick threepence be- 
 sides. You may suppose that he did not leave 
 off in very high glee ; he was vexed with him- 
 self—not, however, that he had been so foolish 
 and wrong as to gamble, but because he had 
 not been clever enough or fortunate enough 
 to win. 
 
 For two or three clays after this, David was 
 very dull. He did not like to think about his 
 losses, and yet he was every dav, and two or 
 three times a day, put in mind" of them by 
 Dick Atkins, who took care to be in the way 
 as David returned from work, or when lie 
 
VILLAGE TALE. 
 
 35 
 
 stirred from home, to ask him for the three- 
 pence. 
 
 4 1 can't pay you till Saturday night,' said 
 David ; c I shall not have my wages till then.' 
 
 But Dick was impatient to be paid, and 
 grumbled at having to wait so long. 
 
 It was Thursday evening, and David and 
 his mother were having tea. 
 
 4 David, dear,' said Mrs. Allen, 1 1 wish you 
 would mind shop for an hour or two : I want 
 to go to Ashton.' 
 
 * Yes mother,' David replied ; and presently 
 he was alone in the little shop. 
 
 lie did not remain alone long. The first 
 who entered was Dick Atkins. 
 
 4 Where is your mother gone ?' he asked, in 
 a rude tone. 
 
 David told him. 
 
 * I say,' were the next words of Dick, 4 I 
 want my threepence.' 
 
 4 1 told you,' said David, with some signs of 
 vexation, ' that I could not pay you till Satur- 
 day night.' 
 
 4 1 must have it before then,' replied Dick 
 insolently : 4 1 want it for something particu- 
 lar. I must have it to-night.' 
 
 David made no reply, but set himself to 
 work at skeining a pound of thread which he 
 had promised to accomplish for his mother. 
 
 Dick sat himself on an empty box beside 
 the counter and looked on. 
 
 'W^lu said he, with an ugly sneer: 
 4 Would I ? that's all but David took no no- 
 tice of the words. 
 
 By and by a customer came in. It was a 
 
36 
 
 DAYID ALLEN ; 
 
 little girl, for a quarter of an ounce of snuff 
 for her granny. David weighed the snuff and 
 put it into the old woman's box : the little 
 girl laid three farthings on the counter, and 
 then went out. 
 
 \ I say, David,' growled Dick, c take and pay 
 me my money.' 
 
 But David put the three farthings into the 
 money -drawer, and went on skeining his 
 thread. 
 
 £ You are going to cheat me out of it, are 
 vou ?' Dick demanded : and David was about 
 to return an angry reply, when in came ano- 
 ther customer. This time it was a woman, 
 for an ounce of tea, a pound of sugar, and a 
 bit of cheese. 
 
 'How much, my man?' she asked, when 
 David had served her with all she wanted, 
 and had reckoned up the amount. 
 
 1 One and threepence,' said the boy, and the 
 customer laid down the money, put the goods 
 into her basket, and went awav. 
 
 1 Is ow is the time,' thought Dick to himself ; 
 and then he shouted aloud, ' I say, David, you 
 take and pay me my money, will you ?' 
 
 Poor David felt very angry and very much 
 mortified. Snatching up the shilling, he threw 
 it hastily into the money-drawer, and then 
 pushing the threepence towards his persever- 
 ing creditor, he exclaimed, 'There, take it 
 then, and be oil'.' 
 
 There was a grin of satisfaction on Dick's 
 face as he pounced upon the money. c Ho, 
 ho, master siy-boots,' he cried out j ' that's the 
 
A VILLAGE TALL. 37 
 
 way your mother's money goes, is it ? Ho, 
 ho V 
 
 ' I dont care what you say,' David answered, 
 e I shall pay it back again.' 
 
 c Oh, to he sure,' said Dick, as he turned 
 on his heel to leave the little shop i 1 no doubt 
 you will, good, honest David.' 
 
 Presently Dick's face was again thrust in at 
 the shop door : 4 Will you toss up for a penny, 
 David?' 
 
 e No,' said David stoutly. 
 
 'There are more ways than one of getting 
 money, arn't there ?' asked Dick, with an un- 
 pleasant leer at the money-drawer ; 'and you 
 can pay it back again, you know. Ko-ho, — 
 Ho-hoV 
 
38 
 
 DAVID ALLEN; 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 AFTF.Tl-THOTTGHTS AND AFTER-DEEDS. 
 
 Dick's * Ho-ho ' rang in David's ears, and 
 roused him to reflection. He felt then how 
 foolish and criminal he had been. He tried, 
 indeed, to persuade himself that he had done 
 no wrong, for the money would be returned in 
 a day or two, so that his mother would not be 
 injured ; but he could not get back his peace 
 of conscience. Besides, Dick had seen him 
 take his mother's money ; and would have it 
 in his power at any time to call him a thief. 
 
 A thief I At the very thought of that 
 hateful name, David's face was covered with a 
 burning blush. He thought he would tell his 
 mother what had happened, directly on her 
 return. But no : she would be likely to scold 
 him ; and worse than this, would she ever 
 trust him again ? No, no ; he could not make 
 up his mind to this ; he would pay back the 
 money the very first opportunity he had. 
 • That is the only thing I can do now,' said 
 David to himself. 
 
 It was late in the evening when Mrs. Allen 
 got home ; and it was nearly dark. If it had 
 not been, she must surely have found out that 
 something was amiss with David, for he dared 
 not look his mother in the face, and he felt 
 uneasy in her presence. 
 
 The next day, and the next, David felt his 
 conscience troubling him ; and once or twice, 
 
A VILLAGE TALE 
 
 39 
 
 when he met Dick Atkins, lie felt ready to 
 sink, especially when Dick came up to him, 
 and in an impudent tone asked him if he 
 would not to^s up again for a penny ? and 
 shouted 4 Ho-ho ' in his ears when he refused. 
 He felt that he was in the power of that idle 
 and mischievous lad. And so, indeed, he was. 
 
 At length Saturday came, and David's wages- 
 were paid. On Saturday night he always- 
 helped his mother in the shop ; for it was- 
 generally thronged, with customers then. He 
 was prepared : and watching his opportunity, 
 he slipped threepence of his own money into 
 the drawer, with some wdiich he had just taken 
 of a customer. And oh. how light was David's 
 heart, when he had thus restored what he had 
 taken away. 
 
 ' You need not look so cunning at me,' said 
 David, the next time he met Dick Atkins. 'I 
 have paid back the threepence.' 
 
 ' Ho-ho f said Dick. •Ho-ho!' 
 
40 
 
 DAVID ALLEN; 
 
 CHAPTEJR YIL 
 
 THE BANK NOTE. 
 
 AsriTON was a small town about three miles 
 from Greenfield : and like other towns, it had 
 a variety of shops. Among them was the 
 shop of Simon Grant, a tailor. 
 
 One morning, a little boy, on pony baek, 
 rode up to Simon Grant's door with a bundle 
 under his arm, and dismounting, he entered 
 the shop. 
 
 * There are some clothes my master wants 
 mended,' said the boy. 
 
 ' Yery well,' replied the tailor ; c I will 
 attend to it ; and who is your master ?' 
 
 1 Mr. Graham, of Greenfield.' 
 
 c O yes ; I know Mr. Graham ; I have done 
 work for nim before. What is wanted to be 
 done ; do you know ?' 
 
 4 There's a waistcoat to have fresh buttons, 
 and a coat that has had a tear ; but master 
 said you would see what to do.' 
 
 4 Yery good,' said Simon ; and he took the 
 parcel. 
 
 4 It is not tied up very cleverly,' the tailor 
 remarked. 
 
 4 1 let it drop on the road,' said David — for 
 the boy was David- — 4 and the string broke, so 
 I had to tie it up the best way I could as I 
 rode along ; but the things did not catch any 
 
A VILLAGE TALE, 
 
 41 
 
 'Very good; all right,' replied Simon 
 Grant ; and David mounted his pony — saying 
 * I am to ccme for them next week.' 
 
 1 They shall be ready,' said the tailor, put- 
 ting the parcel under his counter. 
 
 Later in the day, Simon had the coat and 
 waistcoat open before him on his board, to sec 
 what repairs were needed. In the course of 
 his examination, he felt a little extra thickness 
 in the waistcoat pocket, and putting in his fin- 
 ger and thumb, he drew out a piece of paper 
 crumpled up ; and on spreading it open, he 
 discovered that it was a five pound note. 
 
 "Sam Simon Grant was not a downright- 
 rogue. He bore a very fan character among 
 his townsfolk and customers ; and had any 
 one accused him of dishonesty, he would have 
 felt very much injured, and very angry. 
 
 But Simon Grant was poor ; and the poor 
 have many temptations, from which the rich 
 are exempt. As he looked at the bank note, 
 his hand trembled a little, and had any person 
 then been watching him, it might easily have 
 been seen that something more than usual was 
 passing through his mind. After looking for 
 a minute or two at the note, Simon slipped it 
 into his own pocket. 
 
 That evening a London traveller called on 
 Simon Grant. Simon owed this man some 
 money ; but he was not prepared to pay it ; 
 and began to make excuses and promises. 
 
 1 You said the same last time I wag here,' 
 said the traveller angrily ; 1 and I cannot give 
 you longer credit. This account ought to 
 have been settled six months ago. You can- 
 
42 
 
 DAVID ALLEN ; 
 
 not expect me to wait any longer for the 
 money.' 
 
 Simon said lie -was very sorry, but trade was 
 bad, and other things of a like nature, which, 
 however, did not soften the creditor, who be- 
 gan to threaten that if the money were not 
 paid that very evening, he would set a lawyer 
 to work. 
 
 Poor Simon was frightened at this ; and 
 then a temptation came into his mind. 
 
 ' Wait a few minutes,' he said, c and I will 
 see what I can do.' He then put on his hat, 
 and went out, as though he were going to 
 borrow the money. In a few minutes he re- 
 turned, and laid a five pound note on the 
 counter. * There,' he said, e take what I owe 
 you out of that.' 
 
 The traveller did so ; and having given the 
 change to Simon, and written ' settled ' on tb* 
 bill, he thanked him, and wished him ' good 
 night.' 
 
 But there was no good night to Simon, 1 
 guess ; for when we do what is wrong, con- 
 science is apt to trouble us. 
 
 A day or two after this, as Mr. Graham was 
 walking in his garden, a sudden recollection 
 came into. his mind : — ' What a careless block- 
 head I was,' he exclaimed. 
 
 'What is the matter?' asked Mrs. Graham, 
 who was by his side. 
 
 'The matter!' said he; 'why there was a 
 
A TILLAGE TALE. 
 
 43 
 
 five pound note in the pocket of that waist* 
 coat I sent to be mended.' 
 
 1 Are you sure ?' his wife asked. 
 
 c Quite sure. I remember quite well putting 
 it there, the very last evening I wore the 
 waistcoat ; and that was not a week ago. Yes, 
 I am positive the note was in the pocket 
 when I sent it away. What a blockhead I 
 must have been not to remember it !' 
 
 ' You had better speak to David Allen about 
 it,' said Mrs. Graham ; c he took the parcel to 
 the tailor, you know.' 
 
 1 David ! what can he know about it ? — 
 However, I may as well speak to him.' 
 
 David was soon found ; but he could only 
 say that he delivered the parcel safely into the 
 hands of Simon Grant. 
 
 c I must go over to Ashton, and see Grant/ 
 said Mr. Graham ; c for five pounds is too 
 much to lose ;'- — so the pony was put into the 
 chaise, and Mr. Graham was soon on his way 
 to Ashton. 
 
 One sin leads to another. Simon Grant 
 having yielded to the temptation of using 
 money that was not his own, had hardened 
 himself against consequences ; and when Mr. 
 Graham had made known to him the business 
 which brought him to Ashton, the man de- 
 clared that he had not examined the clothes 
 since they were brought to his shop ; and that 
 if the note was in the pocket then, it would 
 be there still. 
 
 ■ Let us look then,' said Mr. Graham. Thej 
 *ooked ; but no note could be found. 
 
 ' This is very extraordinary ' said Mr. Gra» 
 
44 
 
 DAVID ALLEX j 
 
 ham ; 6 for I am positive the money was in the 
 pocket when I sent it to yon.' 
 
 4 It ought have been taken ont before it 
 reached me,' said Grant ; 1 and now I think of 
 it, the parcel looked as if it had been opened ; 
 and the boy said he dropped it on the road.' 
 
 ' Well,' replied Mr. Graham ; c I shall in- 
 quire further into it. I believe my lad is hon- 
 est ; but 1 do not mean to lose the money if 
 I can help it. At any rate, I know the num- 
 ber of the note :' — and he left the shop. 
 
 If Mr. Graham had looked closely at the 
 tailor when he said £ I know the number of the 
 note,' he might have seen such marks of terror 
 as would have caused him to suspect the truth : 
 but his back was turned as he spoke. 
 
 ' O dear — dear,' said Simon Grant ; c I wish 
 I hadn't done it ; but I cannot help it, now. 
 I must keep to my story, or I shall be ruined. 
 Perhaps lie said that only to frighten me ; or 
 if he does know the number of the note, it 
 may be a good while before it is stopped, and 
 may have passed through a good many hands. 
 At least, there is a chance that I shall not bo 
 found out. At any rate, I can't help it now. 
 I must keep to my story.' 
 
 Before Mr. Graham left Ashton, he had a 
 number of bills printed, and a reward offered 
 to whoever would bring to him the lost bank 
 note. Some of these he left to be put iro in 
 Ashton, and a few he took back with him to 
 Greenfield. 
 
 A day or two afterwards, Dick Atkins was 
 seen talking % Mr. Graham ; and in the even- 
 
A VILLAGE TALE. 4 s * 
 
 ing it was known that David Allen had been 
 sent away from his work in disgrace. 
 
 { Poor David !' said Edith, as, standing by 
 the verv drawing room window which his ball 
 had once broken, she watched him walking 
 slowly and sorrowfully away from the house. 
 * Poor David ! do you really think, papa, that 
 he knows anything about the money r 
 
 c I am afraid he does, my clear ; it is quite 
 clear that either he or Grant, the tailor, took 
 the note from my waistcoat pocket ; and 
 Grant has a good character from all I can 
 learn.' 
 
 ' And has not poor Pavid ?' the young lady 
 ventured to ask. 
 
 1 He had,'' replied her father ; c and until 
 very lately I could have trusted him with 
 almost anything ; but I find that he gambles ; 
 and it has been proved that he stole money 
 from his mother to pay his gambling debts ; 
 and a boy who can do that will do anything. 5 
 
 'But then,' said Mrs. Graham ; ' you know 
 my dear, he does say he paid back the money 
 as soon as he had it in his power.' 
 
 ' Tush !' exclaimed the gentleman impa- 
 tiently ; ' and are you so silly as to behove 
 that? Besides, the parcel was opened between 
 here and Ashton. He says that he let it fall, 
 and it came untied. Perhaps you will believe 
 that too ?' 
 
 ' Poor boy !' said Edith, compassionately. 
 'Well; and I am very sorry for him; and 
 
46 
 
 DAVID ALLEN; 
 
 for his mother too : but this is what one gets 
 by trying to do good to the poor. I shouldn't 
 wonder,' continued Mr. Graham, 4 if the 
 woman knows more than she ought about this 
 note ; but let them make the most of it. 
 They are welcome to what they have got ; but 
 from tins time I have done with them — quite.' 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 THE CLEAKING- UP. 
 
 Two months passed away. Sad, long, dreary, 
 heavy months they were to poor David and 
 his mother. It soon became known why Da- 
 vid had lost his work at Mr. Graham's ; and 
 the people of Greenfield were ready enough to 
 take up an idle report and spread it. So 
 David was looked upon as a little thief ; and 
 could scarcely stir from home without being 
 asked : — 'Where is the five pound note ?' 
 
 Oh, then how did David repent himself of 
 having made use of that threepence, and of 
 having ever kept company with that idle and 
 treacherous Dick Atkins, — for his testimony it 
 was that had ruined David with his kind 
 friends the Grahams, in the hope of getting a 
 reward for himself. 
 
 One comfort had David : — his mother did 
 not believe him guilty : but it was of no use 
 for her to say this to her neighbours ; for she 
 also was suspected of knowing more about the 
 
A VILLAGE TALE. 
 
 47 
 
 missing money than she chose to tell. . There 
 was nothing for either of them but patience. 
 
 Well, two months had passed, when one day, 
 Edith Graham ran eagerly into Mrs. Allen's 
 little shop, whither she was soon followed by 
 her less active hut almost equally eager father. 
 
 £ Where is David ?' said Edith, as soon as 
 she had breath to speak. 
 
 David was in the room behind the shop, and 
 on hearing the sound of Edith's voice, he 
 burst into tears. 
 
 6 Mrs. Allen,' said Mr. Graham, directly he 
 entered ; ' I have to ask David's pardon and 
 yours for the injustice I have done you both ; 
 will you forgive me ?' and he held out his hand 
 to the widow. 
 
 ' What is it, sir — Oh ! what is it ?' was all 
 Mrs. Allen could say. 
 
 ' It is all discovered about that note,' said 
 Mr. Graham ; 'and David is as innocent as my 
 daughter here.' 
 
 4 1 know that, sir j* said Mrs. Allen, some- 
 what colcllv. 
 
 ' Ah, I do now, but I did not ; and I must 
 have his forgiveness and your's for my unjust 
 suspicions : — here David, my boy ;' he contin- 
 ued, as he caught a glimpse of him through 
 the open doorway : ' come David, one hearty 
 shake of the hand; and I will teh you all 
 about it.' 
 
 It was not ^ long story th?/. Mr. Graham 
 had to tell ; but n ~ j°J m i one to the 
 poor widow and her son, whatever it might 
 be to Simon Grant. 
 
 Mr. Graham did know the number of the 
 
DAVID ALLEN. 
 
 note, and he wrote to the bank to stop it when 
 i was paid in. This had been done ; and 
 from one to another it had been traced back 
 to Simon Grant ; and then he had confessed 
 having found the note and used it ; thus clear- 
 ing up David's character. 
 
 6 You must come back again, David,' said 
 Mr. G miam; 8 and by and by we must see 
 what else can be done for you.' 
 
 Do David;' said Edith; 'you will, wont 
 
 yon r 
 
 Yes, David returned to Mr. Graham s 5 ana 
 after another year's service there, was appren- 
 ticed, at Mr. Graham's cost, to a good busi- 
 ness ; Kid never again, for a single hour, lost 
 Ms character, either for industry or honesty. 
 He is a man now, and prosperous ; but he has 
 never forgotten how near to ruin he was onco 
 brought by one wrong action.