"You Will Think Better Of It In The Morning," Said I, As I Rose And
Placed Before The Lad Some Cold Beef And Bread, And A Bowl Of Milk,
To Which The Runaway Did Ample Justice.
"Why did you quit your master, my lad?" said Moodie.
"Because I could live wid him no longer. You see, sir, I'm a poor
foundling from the Belfast Asylum, shoved out by the mother that
bore me, upon the wide wurld, long before I knew that I was in it.
As I was too young to spake for myself intirely, she put me into a
basket, wid a label round my neck, to tell the folks that my name
was John Monaghan. This was all I ever got from my parents; and who
or what they were, I never knew, not I, for they never claimed me;
bad cess to them! But I've no doubt it's a fine illigant gintleman
he was, and herself a handsome rich young lady, who dared not own me
for fear of affronting the rich jintry, her father and mother. Poor
folk, sir, are never ashamed of their children; 'tis all the
threasure they have, sir; but my parents were ashamed of me, and
they thrust me out to the stranger and the hard bread of
depindence." The poor lad signed deeply, and I began to feel a
growing interest in his sad history.
"Have you been in the country long?"
"Four years, madam. You know my masther, Mr. F - -; he brought me out
wid him as his apprentice, and during the voyage he trated me well.
But the young men, his sons, are tyrants, and full of durty pride;
and I could not agree wid them at all at all.
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