When he arrived there, he made his way to her house with a beating heart. Each object told him it was home, and brought bygone days to his mind. On coming to the house he saw it was closed. He thought she might be dead; and as he slowly opened the gate and walked up the path and looked about, his heart was ready to break. A neighbor seeing him, said, "Ah, John, is that you?" and quickly told him that his mother still lived—but as she had no means of support, she had gone to the poor-house. John went to the place, found his mother, and soon made her comfortable in her own cottage. The sailor boy afterwards became mate of the same vessel in which he first left the quay at Yarmouth.
NO PAY—NO WORK.
"Little boy, will you help a poor old man up the hill with this load?" said an old man, who was drawing a hand-cart with a bag of corn for the mill.
"I can't," said the boy, "I am in a hurry to be at school."
As the old man sat on the stone, resting himself he thought of his youthful days, and of his friends now in the grave; the tears began to fall, when John Wilson came along, and said,—"shall I help you up the hill with your load sir?" The old man brushed his eyes with his coat sleeve, and replied, "I should be glad to have you." He arose and took the tongue of his cart, while John pushed behind. When they ascended the top of the hill, the old man thanked the lad for his kindness. In consequence of this John was ten minutes too late at school. It was unusual for him to be late, as he was known to be punctual and prompt; but as he said nothing to the teacher about the cause of his being late, he was marked for not being in season.
After school, Hanson, the first boy, said to John, "I suppose you stopped to help old Stevenson up the hill with his corn."
"Yes," replied John, "the old man was tired and I thought I would give him a lift."
"Well, did you get your pay for it?" said Hanson, "for I don't work for nothing."
"Nor do I," said John; "I didn't help him, expecting pay."
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