mon sense, and knew something of human nature; and as he was well aware that Mrs. Guttridge really loved her husband, notwithstanding his idle habits, and cold, brutal treatment to his family, he forbore to remark upon the scene which had just past; but telling the afflicted woman he would send her something to eat, he took little Bobby by the hand, and led him home. A plate of victuals was set before the child, who devoured it with a greediness that was piteous to behold.

Poor cre'tur!' said Mrs. Frier; why, he 's half starved! Betsey, bring him a dish of bread-and-milk; that will set the best on his poor, empty, starved stomach.'

Betsey ran and got the bowl of bread-and-milk, and little Bobby's hand soon began to move from the dish to his mouth, with a motion as steady and rapid as the pendulum of a clock. The whole family stood and looked on, with pity and surprise, until he had finished his meal, or rather until he had eaten as much as they dared allow him to eat at once; for although he had devoured a large plate of meat and vegetables, and two dishes of bread-and-milk, his appetite seemed as ravenous as when he first began; and he still, like the memorable Oliver Twist, 'asked for more.'

While Bobby had been eating, Mr. Frier had been relating to his family the events which had occurred at Guttridge's house, and the starving condition of the inmates; and it was at once agreed, that something should be sent over immediately; for they all said 'Mrs. Guttridge was a clever woman, and it was a shame that she should be left to suffer so.'

Accordingly, a basket was filled with bread, a jug of milk, and some meat and vegetables, ready cooked, which had been left from their dinner; and Betsey ran and brought a pie, made from their last year's dried pumpkins, and asked her mother if she might not put that in, so the poor starving cre'turs might have a little taste of something that was good.'

'Yes,' said her mother, and put in a bit of cheese with it; I do n't think we shall be any the poorer for it; for he that giveth to the poor, lendeth to the Lord.'

'Yes, yes,' said Mr. Frier, and I guess you may as well put in a little dried pumpkin; she can stew it up for the little ones, and it 'll be good for 'em. We've got a plenty of green stuff a-growin,' to last till pumpkins come again.' So a quantity of dried pumpkin was also packed into the basket, and the pie laid on top, and George was despatched, in company with little Bobby, to carry it over.

Mr. Frier's benevolent feelings had become highly excited. He forgot his four tons of hay, and sat down to consult with his wife about what could be done for the Guttridge family. Something must be done soon; he was not able to support them all the time; and if they were left alone much longer, they would starve. He told his wife he had a good mind to go and enter a complaint to the grand jury ag'in' Jerry, for a lazy, idle person, that did n't provide for his family. The court sets at Saco to-morrow, and do n't you think, wife, I had better go and do it?'

His wife thought he had better go over first and talk with Mrs. Guttridge about it; and if she was willing, he had better do it. Mr.

Frier said, he could go over and talk with her, but he did n't think it would be the least use, for she loved Jerry, ugly as he was, and he did n't believe she would be willing to have him punished by the court.'

However, after due consultation, he concluded to go over and have a talk with Mrs. Guttridge about the matter. Accordingly he took his hat, and walked over. He found the door open, as usual, and walked in without ceremony. Here he beheld the whole family, including Jerry himself, seated at their little pine table, doing ample justice to the basket of provisions which he had just before sent them. He observed the pie had been cut into two pieces, and one half of it, and he thought rather the largest half, was laid on Jerry's plate, the rest being cut up into small bits, and divided among the children. Mrs. Guttridge had reserved none to herself, except a small spoonful of the soft part, with which she was trying to feed the baby. The other eatables seemed to be distributed very much in the same proportion.

Mr. Frier was a cool, considerate man, whose passions were always under the most perfect control; but he always confessed, for years afterward, 'that for a minute or two, he thought he felt a little something like anger rising up in his stomach!'

He sat and looked on, until they had finished their meal, and Jerry had eaten bread, and meat, and vegetables, enough for two common men's dinners, and swallowed his half of the pie, and a large slice of cheese, by way of dessert; and then rose, took his hat, and, without saying a word, marched deliberately out of the house, directing his course again to the grog-shop.

Mr. Frier now broached the subject of his errand to Mrs. Guttridge. He told her the neighbors could not afford to support her family much longer, and unless her husband went to work, he did n't see but they would have to starve.

Mrs. Guttridge began to cry. She said she did n't know what they should do; she had talked as long as talking would do any good; but somehow, Mr. Guttridge did n't seem to love to work. She believed it was n't his natur' to work.'

'Well, Mrs. Guttridge, do you believe the scriptures?' said Mr. Frier, solemnly.

'I'm sure I do,' said Mrs. Guttridge; I believe all there is in the Bible.'

And do n't you know,' said Mr. Frier, the Bible says, 'He that will not work, neither shall he eat?'

'I know there's something in the Bible like that,' said Mrs. Guttridge, with a very serious look.

Then do you think it right,' added Mr. Frier, when your neighbors send you in a basket of provisions, do you think it right, that Mr. Guttridge, who wont work and 'arn a mouthful himself, should sit down and eat more than all the rest of you, and pick out the best part of it, too?'

'Well, I don't s'pose it 's right,' said Mrs. Guttridge, thoughtfully; but somehow, Mr. Guttridge is so hearty, it seems as if he would faint away, if he did n't have more than the rest of us to eat.'

'Well, are you willing to go on in this way,' continued Mr. Frier, ‘in

open violation of the scriptures, and keep yourself and children every day in danger of starving'

What can I do, Mr. Frier?' said Mrs. Guttridge, bursting into a flood of tears; 'I've talked, and talked, and it's no use; Mr. Guttridge wont work; it do n't seem to be in him. talk to him, Mr. Frier, he might do better.'

May be if you should

When I was over here

No, that would be no use,' said Mr. Frier. before, you see how he took it, jest because I spoke to him about going over to the shop, when he ought to be to work, to get something for his family to eat; you see how mad he was, and how provoking he talked to me. It's no use for me to say any thing to him; but I think, Mrs. Guttridge, if somebody should complain to the grand jury about him, the court would make him go to work. And if you are willing for it, I think I should feel it my duty to go and complain of him.'

'Well, I do n't know but it would be best,' said Mrs. Guttridge, and if you think it would make him go to work, I'm willing you should. When will the court set?'

To-morrow,' said Mr. Frier; and I 'll give up all other business, and go and attend to it.'

But what will the court do to him, Mr. Frier?' said Mrs. Guttridge.

'Well, I don't know,' said Mr. Frier but I expect they 'll punish him; and I know they 'll make him go to work.'

'Punish him!' exclaimed Mrs. Guttridge, with a troubled air. Seems to me I don't want to have him punished. But do you think, Mr. Frier, they will hurt him any?'

'Well, I think it's likely,' said Mr. Frier, 'they will hurt him some; but you must remember, Mrs. Guttridge, it is better once to smart than always to ache. Remember, too, you 'll be out of provisions again by to-morrow. Your neighbors can't support your family all the time; and if your husband don't go to work, you'll be starving again. Still, if you do n't feel willing, and do n't think it 's best, I wont go near the grand jury, nor do nothin' about it.'

'Oh dear!—well, I do n't know!' said Mrs. Guttridge, with tears in her eyes. You may do jest as you think best about it, Mr. Frier; that is, if you do n't think they 'll hurt him much.'

Mr. Frier returned home; but the afternoon was so far spent, that he was able to get in only one ton of his hay, leaving the other three tons out, to take the chance of the weather. He and his wife spent the evening in discussing what course it was best to pursue with regard to the complaint against Mr. Guttridge; but notwithstanding his wife was decidedly in favor of his going the next morning and entering the complaint, since Mrs. Guttridge had consented, yet Mr. Frier was undecided. He did not like to do it; Mr. Guttridge was a neighbor, and it was an unpleasant business. But when he arose the next morning, looked out, and beheld his three tons of hay drenched with a heavy rain, and a prospect of a continued storm, he was not long in making up his mind.

'Here,' said he, 'I spent a good part of the day, yesterday, in looking after Guttridge's family, to keep them from starving; and now,

by his means, I've nigh about as good as lost three tons of hay. I do n't think it's my duty to put up with it any longer.'

Accordingly, as soon as breakfast was over, Mr. Frier was out, spattering along in the mud and rain, with his old great-coat thrown over his shoulders, the sleeves flapping loosely down by his side, and his drooping hat twisted awry, wending his way to court, to appear before the grand jury.

'Well, Mr. Frier, what do you want?' asked the foreman, as the complainant entered the room.

I come to complain of Jerry Guttridge to the grand jury,' replied Mr. Frier, taking off his hat, and shaking the rain from off it. Why, what has Jerry Guttridge done?' said the foreman.

I did

n't think he had life enough to do any thing worth complaining of to the grand jury.'

'It's because he has n't got life enough to do any thing,' said Mr. Frier, that I've come to complain of him. The fact is, Mr. Foreman, he's a lazy, idle fellow, and wont work, nor provide nothin' for his family to eat; and they 've been half starving this long time; and the neighbors have had to keep sending in something, all the time, to keep 'em alive.'

'But,' said the foreman, 'Jerry's a peaceable kind of a chap, Mr. Frier; has any body ever talked to him about it, in a neighborly way, and advised him to do differently? And may be he has no chance to work, where he could get any thing for it.'

'I am sorry to say,' replied Mr. Frier, 'that he 's been talked to a good deal, and it do n't do no good; and I tried hard to get him to work for me, yesterday afternoon, and offered to give him victuals enough to last his family 'most a week, but I could n't get him to, and he went off to the grog-shop, to see some jockeys swap horses. And when I told him, calmly, I did n't think he was in the way of his duty, he flew in a passion, and called me an old, miserable, dirty, meddling vagabond, and a scoundrel, and a scape-gallows, and an infernal small piece of a man!'

'Abominable!' exclaimed one of the jury; who ever heard of such outrageous conduct?'

'What a vile, blasphemous wretch!' exclaimed another; I should n't 'a wondered if he 'd 'a fell dead on the spot!'

The foreman asked Mr. Frier if Jerry had used them very words.' 'Exactly them words, every one of 'em,' said Mr. Frier.

Well,' said the foreman, then there is no more to be said. Jerry certainly deserves to be indicted, if any body in this world ever did.' Accordingly the indictment was drawn up, a warrant was issued, and the next day Jerry was brought before the court, to answer to the charges preferred against him. Mrs. Sally Guttridge and Mr. Nat. Frier were summoned as witnesses. When the honorable court was ready to hear the case, the clerk called Jerry Guttridge, and bade him hearken to an indictment found against him by the grand inquest for the district of Maine, now sitting at Saco, in the words following, viz: We present Jerry Guttridge for an idle person, and not providing for his family; and giving reproachful language to Mr. Nat. Frier, when he reproved him for his idleness.' 'Jerry Guttridge,

what say you to this indictment? Are you guilty thereof, or not guilty?'

'Not guilty,' said Jerry; 'and here's my wife can tell you the same, any day. Sally, have n't I always provided for my family?'

Why, yes,' said Mrs. Guttridge, 'I do n't know but you have as well as

Stop, stop!' said the judge, looking down over the top of his spectacles at the witness, stop, Mrs. Guttridge; you must not answer questions until you have been sworn.'

The court then directed the clerk to swear the witnesses; whereupon, he called Nat. Frier and Sally Guttridge to step forward, and hold up their right hands. Mr. Frier advanced, with a ready, honest air, and held up his hand. Mrs. Guttridge lingered a little behind ; but when at last she faltered along, with feeble and hesitating step, and held up her thin, trembling hand, and raised her pale blue eyes, half swimming in tears, toward the court, and exhibited her careworn features, which, though sun-burnt, were pale and sickly, the judge had in his own mind more than half decided the case against Jerry. The witnesses having been sworn, Mrs. Guttridge was called to the stand.

'Now, Mrs. Guttridge,' said the judge, 'you are not obliged to testify against your husband any thing more than you choose; your testimony must be voluntary. The court will ask you questions touching the case, and you can answer them or not, as you may think best. And in the first place, I will ask you whether your husband neglects to provide for the necessary wants of his family; and whether you do, or do not, have comfortable food and clothing for yourself and children?'

'Well, we go pretty hungry, a good deal of the time,' said Mrs. Guttridge, trembling; but I do n't know but Mr. Guttridge does the best he can about it. There do n't seem to be any victuals that he can get, a good deal of the time.'

Well, is he, or is he not, in the habit of spending his time idly, when he might be at work, and earning something for his family to live upon ?'

'Why, as to that,' replied the witness, Mr. Guttridge do n't work much; but I do n't know as he can help it; it does n't seem to be his natur' to work. Somehow, he do n't seem to be made like other folks; for if he tries ever so much, he can't never work but a few minutes at a time; the natur' do n't seem to be in him.'

'Well, well,' said the judge, casting a dignified and judicial glance at the culprit, who stood with mouth wide open, and eyes fixed on the court with an intentness that showed he began to take some interest in the matter; well, well, perhaps the court will be able to put the natur' in him.'

Mrs. Guttridge was directed to step aside, and Mr. Nat. Frier was called to the stand. His testimony was very much to the point; clear, and conclusive. But as the reader is already in possession of the substance of it, it is unnecessary to recapitulate it. Suffice it to say, that when he was called upon to repeat the reproachful language which Jerry had bestowed upon the witness, there was much shuddering, and an awful rolling of eyes, throughout the court room.