me how dangerously his poor Willy had been wounded. Presently after, the brave youth himself appeared; his eyes overflowing with tears, not for his own, but for his father's fate. I laboured to assure him, that his father's wounds was not dangerous, and this assertion was confirmed by the captain himself.boHe seemed not to believe either of us, until he asked me upon my honour and I had repeated to him my first assurance, in the most positive manner. He then immediately becamericalm ; but on my attempting to inquire into the condition of his wound, he solicitously asked me, if I had dressed his father, for he could not think of my touching him, before his father's wound had been taken care of. lisassured him, that the captain had been already properly attended to:

*

6

'Then,' replied the generous youth, pointing to a fellow sufferer, pray, S who look to and dress this poor man, who is groaning so sadly beside me! I told him, that he already had been taken care of, and begged of him, with some importunity, that I might now Ihave liberty to examine his wound he submitted to it, and calmly ob

6

served, Sir, I fear you must amput tate above the joint:' I replied, My dear, I must! Upon which he clasped both his hands together, and lifting his eyes in the most devout and fervent manner towards heaven, he offered the following short, but earnest est peti tion: Good God! do thou enable to behave in my present circumstances

worthy my father's son.

,

"When he had ended this

DIS ejacula

tory prayer, he told me that he was

all submission; I then performed the operation above the joint of the knee; but, during the whole time, the intrepid youth never spoke a word, or uttered oroan, that could be heard at a yard distance.

a

don

17000 You may imagine, what in this interval the captain felt, who lay just by his darling son; but whatever were his feelings, there was no expression of them, but silent trickling tears. The bare recollection of this scene,

even

for me.

this distant time, is too painful

1

"The son remained with me at the hospital the father was lodged at the house of a friend. For the first eight or nine days I gave the father great comfort, by carrying him joyful tidings of his boy; and in the same manner I gratified the son with regard to the

father. But, alas! from that time all the good symptoms, which had hitherto attended this unparalleled youth, began to disappear! The captain easily guessed, by my silence and countenance, the true state his boy was in; nor did he ever ask me more than two questions concerning him; so tender was the subject to us both, and so unwilling was his generous mind to add to my distress. The first was, on the tenth day, in these words: How long, my friend, do you think my Billy may remain in a state of uncertainty;' I replied, that if he lived to the fifteenth day after the operation there would be the strongest hopes of his recovery! On the thirteenth, however, he died; and on the sixteenth, the brave man, looking me stedfastly in the face, said, 'Well, sir, how fares

it with my boy?? I could make him no reply; and he immediately attri buted my silence to the real cause, He cried bitterly, squeezed me by the hand, and begged me to leave him for one half hour, when he wished to see me again; and assured me, that I should find him with a different countenance. I punctually complied with his desire; and when I returned to him he appeared perfectly calm and resigned."

1

AFTER Frank's "day of dangers," as Mary called it, he had many rides with his father, without any dangers or