family from ruin; and his chief hopes were bent on Dick, as the least
hackneyed in knavery. He had once given him a new pair of shoes, on
his promising to go to school next Sunday; but no sooner had Rachel,
the boy's mother, got the shoes into her clutches, than she pawned
them for a bottle of gin, and ordered the boy to keep out of the
parson's sight, and to be sure to play his marbles on Sunday, for the
future, at the other end of the parish, and not near the churchyard.

Mr. Wilson, however, picked up the boy once more; for it was not his
way to despair of any body. Dick was just going to take to his heels,
as usual, for fear the old story of the shoes should be brought
forward; but finding he could not get off, what does he do but run
into a little puddle of muddy water which lay between him and the
parson, that the sight of his naked feet might not bring on the
dreaded subject. Now, it happened that Mr. Wilson was planting a
little field of beans, so he thought this a good opportunity to employ
Dick; and he told him he had got some pretty easy work for him. Dick
did as he was bid; he willingly went to work, and readily began to
plant his beans with dispatch and regularity, according to the
directions given him.

While the boy was busily at work by himself, Giles happened to come
by, having been skulking round the back way, to look over the parson's
garden wall, to see if there was any thing worth climbing over for on
the ensuing night. He spied Dick, and began to scold him for working
for the stingy old parson; for Giles had a natural antipathy to
whatever belonged to the church.

"What has he promised thee a day?" said he; "little enough, I dare
say."