which I am going to tell you.

Now it had happened three years before, that a poor young man of the
name of Simpson had been saved from drowning by Amy's father. I fear
that the young man had thrown himself into the water because he was sick
of life, but I dare say he was glad enough to be pulled out.

Mr. Cooper took him home, gave him a room and a bed, and there Mr.
Simpson staid for some time. He was what is called an artist. He had a
great talent for drawing with a pen and ink. He taught Amy to do this.
She soon did it so well, that he said to her, "Keep on trying, my dear,
and it may be a great help to you by and by."

Sure enough she did keep on trying. Her one thought was to do so well
that she could make money by her art. Poor Mr. Simpson died after he had
staid with the honest fisherman two years; and his last words to Amy
were, "Keep on practising, my dear: don't let a day pass without it. I
am sure you will make an artist."

Amy had followed his advice; and now, when her father was ill, she
resolved to see if she could riot, turn her art to account. She made
twenty sketches with pen and ink. They were sketches of fishermen--drawn
from life; and they were done with a spirit and skill that struck every
one with surprise.

[Illustration]

Taking the specimens with her, she went to Dover, and showed them to the
ladies and gentlemen. At last one gentleman, a Mr. Ritson, who was rich,
and fond of art, said to her, "Don't try to humbug me, little girl. Yon