they themselves, being thus reduced to the condition of paupers (for like the widow's mite, it was their whole living), would seek admission into the workhouse, where they hoped to be usefully employed, instructing the inmates who had reformed, and for whose religious instruction no provision was made, the schoolmaster and mistress being Roman Catholics. "The next day for the admission of paupers, they presented themselves to the guardians. One of them, though justly entitled to admission, was rejected; the other is now clad in the pauper-dress, and labouring with anxious zeal to instruct the Protestant inmates, whose number is daily increasing. At the workhouse gate he bade farewell to his friends, his liberty, and his home for a time, and entered with his Bible alone,-' which is able to make men wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus." CHAPTER XXI. THE SURPRISE. Who sows a loss in duty's sacred way, ON poor Paddy's leaving the workhouse, Mr. Wilkins obtained a little room for him as a lodging, and Maureen was allowed leave of absence to attend and take care of him. His illness was not of a serious kind, and, being freed from the galling taunts and harassing disputations his enemies had kept him constantly in, he con L siderably improved in health, but not sufficiently to undertake any work. The time was happily passed in reading and conversing on the great truths of the Bible, and in his giving detailed accounts of his adventures among the inmates, the disputes he had with them, and the happy influence of truth upon some of them. They, also, often spoke warmly on the mother's happy change, and were earnest in prayers, that God would guide and bless her, and in due time bring them all together. One day, just after they had been anxiously engaged in debating various plans for the future support and management of the family, none of which seemed feasible, or within reach to accomplish, and had just risen from their knees, upon which both had fallen, earnestly asking God's guidance in their perplexity, a knock was heard at the door, and Mr. Wilkins entered with a sealed letter in his hand. "Paddy, my poor dear brother in Jesus," said he, "this is an American letter, and, perhaps, it may contain money from some relation. It is directed, ‘For Maureen O'Connor, to the care of Parson Wilkins.' I think it must be something of consequence, as there is written at the bottom, to be given into nobody's hands but her own."" 6 Paddy, after declaring he had no relation in America to send him money, requested Mr. Wilkins to open and read it. Opening it, and looking at the signature, Mr. Wilkins exclaimed," Oh! I declare, this is from Tom Sheehan ! I wonder what he's at now; I hope, Mary, you wouldn't think of "—Mr. Wilkins paused, for he saw the poor girl was pale and trembling. Recovering herself, she said, "Oh, your reverence, I'll try and follow God's word; but I'm glad poor Tom is alive, any how. Will your honour read the letter? I suppose he's married, your honour, and may be he writes to tell me he is. I hope, if he is, he has got a good wife, that'll make him as happy as I'd wish him. I hope he hasn't married one that would keep him from God's Word." Mr. Wilkins proceeded to read : "From Tom Sheehan to Mary O'Connor. you "I send you these few lines, hoping they'll find in good health, as I am at present, thanks be to the good heavenly Father, and the good Saviour that made me so. And 'tis I that ought to be thankful to Him. He recovered me from the death-sickness; and, better than that, from the death in sins I was in, and by his help I'll live to his glory.' At these words Maureen's face brightened up, and she exclaimed,-"Oh, your honour, can that be Tom Sheehan's writing? If it is, God be praised." Mr. Wilkins looked with kind interest at her, and proceeded : "The Lord has given me a fine house, and a fine elegant farm, and cows and horses, and everything that's good. I'd be very happy, only for one thing; I hav'n't got the only good girl that ever lived, for my wife.'" Poor Maureen coloured, and looked anxious to know who this could be; for, from Tom's way of expressing himself, it either might be that he was married, but not to her, as he would have wished; or he may have meant this as a proposal; or, perhaps, he might have been refused by some one in America. "She wouldn't have me when I asked her' (poor Maureen trembled with anxiety at these words), ‘and I don't wonder at it, for I was then a poor blind Roman, but now I thank my heavenly Father I am of the same religion of that only good girl that ever lived, and oh, how happy I'd be if she'd marry poor Tom Sheehan now. I'd rather have Maureen O'Connor without a penny, than any one else, with all the gold in the world in their pocket; and if she was my wife, she should always wear the little white apron and the little white cap she had on the day we parted at Kilmitchan Cross, for she was never out of my mind since, but I thought I seen her night and day in them. And, sure, 'tis to her I owes all that I have in the world, for she wished me God's blessing at parting, and I know the blessed heavenly Father wouldn't refuse to hear the prayer of such a dear child of his as she is, wherein she asks always in the name of the blessed Saviour, glory to Him. If she'd marry me, I'd be the happiest man alive, for I'd then have the best wife in the world; and if she don't, I'll never have a wife at all, for I could never forget the good girl that wished poor Tom Sheehan the Lord's blessing in the little white cap and apron, at Kilmitchan Cross,-that said, 'God be your guide, Tom;' and, sure God was my guide ever since. He didn't dale with me afther my sins; but, as I read in the beautiful Psalm,-"His goodness and mercy have followed me every day.' He put me where there was no priest to hinder me from hearing the word of God. He sent the good missionary to show me the love of Jesus to poor sinners like myself. He forgave me all my sins; He gave me plenty to live on, and may be He'd give me the only good girl that's in the world to be my wife; but if He don't, I'll try to say, 'Thy will be done,' though 'twill be hard for me; and my heart would then be like a poor potato that's growing black from the blight, and I fear 'twill wither and die away. 66 "I'll write again if God spares me, very soon, and tell you and your good father all about the shipwreck, and the poor black woman that spoke like you before all in the ship, of the love of the Lord Jesus, and about the missionary, and about the one Bible that brought ever so many people to the Lord. There is but one other thing I'd not be without saying in this letter, for the thought of it in my mind is like the hot iron in a body's hand'tis to go to our good landlord, Mr. Rockdale, and find out from him how much rent my poor father took away from him. He shall have every penny of it, and thanks along with it. My poor father and mother died in the Lord, and she said to my father before the missionary, with her last breath, 'Ned, don't fail to pay Mr. Rockdale what we took ;' and my father said to me in his last moments, "Tom asthore, I give you all I have in the world, only promise me you'll pay every penny we took from Mr. Rockdale.' I'd do it whether or no, but this showed me my father's and mother's heart was with the Lord, and that they'd be with him themselves to welcome us when we die. And 'tis I that will pay every penny of it with God's help. God bless you and your good father, and the children. God be with you all. No more at present from one that never forgets you,-Tom Sheehan." The scene of excitement and joy, that the reading of this letter produced among these three dear children of God, may be more easily imagined than described. Mr. Wilkins's voice failed him several times, and these three kindred hearts found relief in silence and tears of joy during the pauses. At the conclusion, poor Maureen raised her bright and joyful, but weeping face, to Mr. Wilkins and her father, from her hands in which she had concealed it, at the words which pointed out, without any mistake, "Maureen O'Connor," as "the only good girl in the world," of whom Tom was speaking. She said nothing, but that look spoke the words, "what is now to |