charitably beſtowed an eleemoſynary farthing. She never failed, on theſe occaſions, to make enquiries after her ſon; and if a prating invalid had the wit to invent a ſtory on the ſpot—how he fought like a good man and true and fell like an hero; how many ſalutations he ſent to his loving mother, before he gave up the ghoſt on the field of battle, ſhe would draw the lyar a cup of wine, and pour ſuch a flood of maternal tears, that you might have wrung out the wet from her tucker. In ſuch lamentations four ſummers had now paſſed away, and the chilly air of autumn was beginning to ſhake the diſcoloured leaves from the trees, when the decent, ſtill, little town ſuddenly broke out into a tumultuous uproar of joy. A meſſenger on horſeback brought word, that the valiant Friedbert had not fallen in the defeat, but was now on his return from diſtant lands to his native place, habited as a ſtately knight that had atchieved many adventures in the Eaſt, and was bringing home
