beef, and beating batter for a pudding, because her brothers, Bertram the barber, Bernard the brewer, and Ben the butcher, besides Bartlemy Bluebottle and Beadle Bumble, were to be at the beach bakehouse that day, being Barnaby Bond's birthday. Her beautiful baby, Barbara, was by the table, breaking a Bath-bun into a basket for her blackbird, and a bunch of blue-bells was beside her.

Betty, beaming with benevolence, brought the beef-bone, and a basin of broth; also the baby on her back, not bearing to leave her behind. When Barbara beheld the beggar, she bent down to brush away some black that was on the boy's brow; and she bit off a piece of her Bath-bun for him, saying, "Bonnie, bonnie boy! baby's Bath-bun for bonnie boy!" He blushed, bowed humbly, and, blessing them for their bounty, began to breakfast on the beef and bread.

Betty Bond bent her steps back to boil the bacon and cabbage, beat the batter, and baste the baron of beef; and she bore in mind, though busy as a bee, to watch her beautiful Barbara, who, having put the bits of bun into the blackbird's beak, and played with the basket of blue-bells, bowled about three balls which were kept in a baize-bag. Then the baby begged for the bucket and scrubbing-brush, which Beadle Bumble had bought at the Bracebridge bazaar, and began to dabble in the barm brought for Betty to brew with.

Betty bustled as before, but her heart was throbbing in her bosom as if it would burst, for very trouble, and her breath became short :-that beggar

boy had brought to her remembrance her blooming Bobby, bright with beauty, whose loss she had more bitterly bewailed than if he had been burked, or burned to death, or buried beneath the briny billows; for, when first breeched, the boy had been borne away by a band of barbarous Bohemian* beggars; poor Betty and her husband believed they went beyond the Bay of Biscay, to Bilboa, or Bombay, or the Bay of Bengal, or Botany-Bay; and it is probable they did go abroad, because a boatswain saw the beggars embark on board a brig at Bristol. It was a bad business, and the mother's tribulation was terrible.

The baker, who had borne the bereavement little better than Betty did, felt a burden on his breast, and his benevolent heart beat fast, while beholding the barefooted beggar; for he remembered his own beloved boy, his first-born. He had once believed the child's birth to be a blessed boon from the bounteous Bestower of all benefits; but he blamed and upbraided himself for having boasted of his bliss, now that it was blighted. Poor Barnaby! his brain became so bewildered, that the batch of brown bread and the Abernethy biscuits he was baking were badly burned that day.

When both beef and bread were gone, and the basin of broth emptied, Barnaby Bond sat on the bench beside the boy, and asked by what name he went, and what business brought him to the beach, barefoot, with nothing but a burnt and blackened

* Gipsies are also called Bohemians.

blanket bound about his body, bidding him be brief, and boldly tell the truth. "The beggars,' answered the boy, "who brought me from abroad, called me Billy Babbington. Last Sabbath they bade me embezzle some butter, a bale of bombazine, a bundle of brooms, and a bandbox of beaver bonnets, and bring them in a wheelbarrow, borrowed from a builder, to their cabin, built of bricks and boards, by the babbling brook below Busby Bank. I bluntly told the beggars I would not obey them; that they had obliged me to beg when abroad; but had never been able, either by bribery or by brutal beating, to make me a robber. 'You may be sure,' I said, 'now I am a big boy, and on British ground, I will not be in bondage to a band of base beggars.' How they abused me! They called me blabbing brat, blockhead, and blundering booby and Barabbas Barebone, who hobbles and makes-belief to be blind, swore he would break my bones, and bury me alive, if I rebelled in that brazen way; and he beat me on my bare back, till it must be black and blue, if not blistered.

:

"While I was in bed that night, sobbing and bemoaning myself, they were brawling and debating about me. I heard the words bolts and bars in a horrible tone. When that disturbance abated, and I might have slumbered, they began to bawl out abominably blasphemous ballads, and to drink bottles of best beer, and Betts's brandy, of which they had abundance beneath branches of birch, and stubble, and rubbish in their cabin. By and by they dropped some burning tobacco into

the barrel of brandy, which burst into a blaze, and began to burn the timber of the building. A very fresh breeze was blowing. I do not know what became of Barabbas Barebone and the other abandoned beggars; but I bounced briskly out of my berth; and I am bound for Banbury, where I believe I was born. I believe, too, that I was baptized Robert, for I remember somebody who baked bread and biscuits at Banbury called me Bobby, and bought bull's-eyes, and buns, and filberts; and a barber used to blow bubbles. And, best of all, I remember my mother rubbing my chilblains, and calling me bonnie boy, as the baby did, when she bit off a piece of her Bath-bun for me. My mother used to embrace me, and give me bilberries and blackberries; and when the briers and brambles made my hands bleed, she bade me bear pain like a noble, brave boy. I could not be much bigger than a baby, I believe, when somebody bought me a book in beautiful binding, and called it blessed Bible, best of books; and besought me to be a good boy, and remember the Sabbath, and to beware of robbing and breaking my word. The bad beggars obliged me to beg. I did not become a robber. I used, before the beggars brought me back to Britain, to ramble about by myself on the Sabbath, when I had liberty; and the beauty of the buds and blossoms on the boughs, the blades of grass, and the birds and beasts, combined, I almost believed, to bid me remember what had been taught me when little bigger than a babe. I could not bear to be

bad; but I could not learn to be a good boy, because there was nobody to teach me; but I prayed betimes every morning, and numbers of times besides, behind the bushes, and in barns and stables, that God would bless me, and bring me back to Banbury."

Barnaby Bond trembled while he tore away the burned and blackened blanket. "O, Betty! Betty!" he bawled out, "behold the broad brown mole that he was born with! There are bruises and blisters all about his dear body; but here is the brown mole upon his back-bone. O, Betty! Betty! behold our beloved Bobby in the beggar-boy!"

Walmer.

ELIZA WEAVER BRADBURN.

A LITTLE GIRL PUNISHED FOR READING THE TESTAMENT.

IN a national school not a hundred miles from Killarney, Ireland, a little girl, one of the scholars, was so rash as to exhibit a little gilt Testament, which some kind person had made her a present of. The commotion excited was as great as the crime was considered by the Papists. The little offender was called forth, whipped before the eyes of her school-fellows, and the "Gospel of the devil," as those wicked people called the English New Testament, was torn in pieces before the children of the school. Let our young readers thank God that they enjoy higher privileges.-Kerry Evening Post.