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"A young rascal, bent on mischief, and sure to find it," said Mr. Haddock, when fairly past them. "And how do you all find yourselves to-night?"' he inquired, stepping in among the paupers.

The whole company started at the sound of his voice, as though it were the voice of a deliverer, and especially at the sweet words that fell from the lips of his wife, as she tenderly took the hand of Mrs. Prescott and embraced her, and went among them all with kindly and encouraging words.

"We are doing tolerably well, I believe," said Mrs. Prescott, "but the cold creeps in, and we feel it some in our poor bodies -- "

"Here's Boyce sick abed," shouted Mag, "but Boyce '11 come up again if he can have good care, and nourishing food and drink."

"Well, those he ought to, and shall have; how long has he been sick?"

"He's always ailing, you know, but he's been shaking and feverish about two hours -- and two hours is enough to end a pauper, you know, ha! ha! ha!"

"He is better, much better, Mrs. Haddock," said the widow, "since Henrietta brought him in a cup of hot tea."

"Did she, sweet girl!"

"The Lord's best blessing on her," said aunt Dorothy.

"Drum, drum, drum."

"She's Captain Bunce's best side," said Mag.

"We put a hot brick to his feet, too," said the widow; "see, he's asleep now, and in a good sweat."

"He has a good, warm blanket on him, too," said Mr. Haddock.

"Miss Prescott got that for him, off her own bed," said Mag, "and how in the world she's going to lie warm without it the Lord knows, not I."

"And so you don't have every thing here you could desire, after all?" inquired Mr. Haddock.

"We don't starve, sir, by no means, nor do we suffer the want of clothing as many do, but it is not as it once was," said Mrs. Prescott.

"You have good meat to eat once a day?"

"We have generally some meat," said she.

"Tough as the side of a barn," said Tucker.

"Salt as the sea," said Polly.

"Bought on a speculation," said Dan.

"Good enough," said Bill and Jims, "for poor folks."

"It'll last more than one generation," said Mag; "as for my eating it, I never'll eat a pound of it if I stay here a thousand years."

"What have you had to-day, Mag?" inquired he.

"Had! Hog's liver, and bone soup, and cider," said she.

"What's Boyce eaten?"

"Boyce has eaten his finger nails," said she.

"Has he had nothing?"

"Nothing he could relish. He drank a quart of cider, and just now two mugs of tea, but he has not eaten a bit of any food this twenty-four hours."

"Why don't he eat?"

"He can't."

"What's the reason?"

"Don't have the food he likes, I s'pose."

"Is he failing? Is he so sick he can't eat?"

"He's a slender body, sir, and can't endure as much as some of us can," answered the widow. "He really wants nursing, like a child -- a good and kind home -- good care, good and nourishing food, would save him."

"Give him some more beef -- Savage's beef," said old Dan. "That's what Captain Bunce calls hearty food and nourishing."

"Ha! ha! ha!" shouted Mag.

Boyce began to move and be disturbed in his sleep.

"Don't, for the world, wake him," said Mrs. Prescott.

And aunt Dorothy chimed in her lullaby, as follows:

"Drum, drum, drum, hush my dear,
Dro, di, dro, dro, dro, lie still and slumber --
Dro, drum, drum, drum, holy angels.
Battle, te drum, drum, drum, guard thy bed."

Mr. and Mrs. Haddock went softly to his bed and examined him. They found him evidently much sick, and requiring medical attention, as well as good and careful nursing. They resolved to remove him to their own house, if Captain Bunce was willing, on the morrow.

"Well, then, I see how it is, good people," said Mr. Haddock. "Sometimes you have enough to eat and drink, at other times are rather short, eh? Isn't it so?"

"Something so," said Tucker; "only the poor-house is never over well fed."

"No, no: so I understand. Well, how is it for warmth -- are you warm enough?"

"Can't say we are," said Bill. "The house is old, and fuel light -- clothes thin, rather -- nights long. We feel cold nights."

"Then yon don't have clothes enough? You ought to have a blanket or two, and some two or three comforters, to each bed."

"Whew!" screamed Mag. "That's more than we've all got -- ain't it, Dan?"

"Blankets and comforters are scarce in my quarters," said he, "the Lord knows."

"Cold weather has come on rather suddenly, you know, Mrs. Prescott," said Mrs. Haddock, "and perhaps the Captain isn't prepared yet to make every thing as comfortable as he will by-and-bye."

"We don't know how it is," said she, in reply; "but my trust is in the Lord of Hosts. I know that this is a suffering world. The Lord Jesus suffered here. He had no where to lay his head. How much are we the better off than he, the Lord of Glory!"

It seemed to flash like a new revelation from heaven into the minds of Mr. and Mrs. Haddock, that there was peculiar sin in suffering an institution so poorly (or badly) managed as this to exist among them; and that this old saint, and others like her, would rise up at the last as swift witness against them if they neglected to do their work of mercy and reform -- if they forgot the misery that some here suffered, who they believed were truly the children of God, and all undeserving the neglect of those who could relieve them. They resolved in the future to do more for them than they had done hitherto.