His children assured him they should be able to earn
money sufficient to maintain him, without injury to
themselves, long before the end of the year; and they
besought him to permit them to do so as soon as it
was in their power; but he continued firm in his resolution,
and made them solemnly promise they would obey his
commands, and not even attempt to see him during the
ensuing year. He then took leave of them in a
most affectionate manner, saying, “I know, my
dearest children, I have now given you the strongest
possible motive for industry and good conduct.
This day twelvemonth we shall meet again; and I hope
it will be as joyful a meeting as this is a sorrowful
parting.” His children, with some difficulty,
obtained permission to accompany him to his new abode.
The almshouses at Monmouth are far superior to common
institutions of this kind; they are remarkably neat
and comfortable little dwellings, and form a row of
pretty cottages, behind each of which there is a garden
full of gooseberries, currants, and a variety of useful
vegetables. These the old men cultivate themselves.
The houses are fitted up conveniently; and each individual
is provided with every thing that he wants in his
own habitation: so that there is no opportunity
or temptation for those petty disputes about property
which often occur in charitable institutions that
are not prudently conducted. Poor people who
have their goods in common must necessarily become
quarrelsome.
“You see,” said old Frankland, pointing
to the shining row of pewter on the clean shelf over
the fire-place in his little kitchen; “you see
I want for nothing here. I am not much to be
pitied.”
His children stood silent and dejected, whilst he
dressed himself in the uniform belonging to the almshouse.
Before they parted, they all agreed to meet at this
place that day twelvemonth, and to bring with them
the earnings of the year; they had hopes that thus,
by their united efforts, a sum might be obtained sufficient
to place their father once more in a state of independence.
With these hopes they separated, and returned to their
masters and mistresses.
CHAPTER IV.
Patty went to Mrs. Crumpe’s to get her clothes
which she had left there, and to receive some months’
wages, which were still due for her services.
After what had passed, she had no idea that Mrs. Crumpe
would wish she should stay with her; and she had heard
of another place in Monmouth, which she believed would
suit her in every respect.
The first person she saw, when she arrived at the
house of her late mistress, was Martha, who, with
a hypocritical length of face, said to her, “Sad
news! sad news, Mrs. Patty! The passion my lady
was thrown into, by your going away so sudden, was
of terrible detriment to her. That very night
she had a stroke of the palsy, and has scarce spoke
since.”
“Don’t take it to heart, it is none of
your fault: don’t take it to heart, dear
Patty,” said Betty, the housemaid, who was fond
of Patty. “What could you do but go to
your brother? Here, drink this water, and don’t
blame yourself at all about the matter. Mistress
had a stroke sixteen months ago, afore ever you came
into the house; and I dare say she’d have had
this last whether you had stayed or gone.”
Copyrights
Tales and Novels — Volume 02 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.