cannot bear to mend shoes; I would almost rather do without
wearing them. There is always a great pile of torn boots and
shoes lying in the corner, and I have to help to mend them.
Oh, how much pleasanter it was to work for the farmers round
M---- all the week, and then go to church on Sunday! They
have the grandest churches here, and I have heard beautiful
music from the organ when I passed or stood at the door; but
I have never been inside of a church since I left M----, for
none of our people ever go, nor do we have any family prayer.

There is one thing, however, in New York that I do like; you
ought to see the beautiful picture-shops in Broadway. I
cannot help drawing a little, although I resolve every time
shall be the last. I did a very wrong thing two days ago,
which I must tell you of. I do not love Mrs. Walters, for she
is always scolding me, and she has a very sharp nose and
chin. I had a piece of chalk in my pocket, and I drew her
likeness on the end of the work-bench. Jem Taylor, our
journeyman, laughed so, that Mr. Walters would know what
amused him so. When he saw it, he beat me with a last, and
hurt me greatly. I cried, not for the beating, but because I
felt I had done wrong. I remembered what my dear mother said
about caricaturing, and I was so sorry I had done it. I
begged Mrs. Walters' pardon, and told her I never would do it
again; and, indeed, I never will. I am afraid I shall become
a bad boy here. Jem Taylor swears dreadfully, and tells so
many falsehoods. He is the only one here who is kind to me;
but when I hear his oaths, and know that he is saying what is
not true, I cannot like him. My mother always warned me so
against saying the least thing that was not true. Ah, if she