find in his heart to knock at his own door. At length, however, he ſtole out, rapped very gently, and in a faint-hearted voice whiſpered, ‘Pray riſe, dear wife, and open the door to thy huſband.’ Jane no ſooner heard the ſound of his voice, than up ſhe ſtarted, like a nimble roe, unfaſtened the door, and joyfully claſped her huſband in her arms; but he returned her heart-felt careſſes with great coldneſs, and having ſet down his baſket, threw himſelf, in a fit of ſullenneſs, along the bench. His ſorrowful figure and countenance pierced his overjoyed wife to the heart. ‘What grieves thee, my dear Stephen? what is the matter with thee? art thou not well?’ He made no reply to her affectionate enquiry, but by ſighs and groans. She ſoon, however, drew from him the cauſe of his grief, for adverſity having ſoftened his heart, he could not any longer conceal the fatal accident from his tender-hearted conſort. Hearing that Number-Nip had practiſed this unlucky
prank,
