Well, would you believe it? Giles and his boys marked both onions and
apples for their own. Indeed, a man who stole so many rabbits from the
warren, was likely enough to steal onions for sauce. One day when the
widow was abroad on a little business, Giles and his boys made a clear
riddance of the onion-bed; and when they had pulled up every single
onion, they then turned a couple of pigs into the garden, who, allured
by the smell, tore up the bed in such a manner, that the widow, when
she came home, had not the least doubt but the pigs had been the
thieves. To confirm this opinion, they took care to leave the little
hatch half open at one end of the garden, and to break down a bit of a
fence at the other end.

I wonder how any body can find in his heart not to pity and respect
poor old widows. There is something so forlorn and helpless in their
condition, that methinks it is a call on every body, men, women, and
children, to do them all the kind services that fall in their way.
Surely, their having no one to take their part, is an additional
reason for kind-hearted people not to hurt and oppress them. But it
was this very reason which led Giles to do this woman an injury. With
what a touching simplicity it is recorded in Scripture, of the youth
whom our blessed Saviour raised from the dead, that he was the only
son of his mother, _and she was a widow_.

It happened, unluckily for poor widow Brown, that her cottage stood
quite alone. On several mornings together--for roguery gets up much
earlier than industry--Giles and his boys stole regularly into her
orchard, followed by their jackasses. She was so deaf that she could
not hear the asses, if they had brayed ever so loud, and to this
Giles trusted; for he was very cautious in his rogueries, since he