thought so, had she lived; but that too is now out of the question. Well
then, if so, I would ask, Whether, in above this year that I have lived
with my master, as I am resolved to leave all his gifts behind me, I may
not have earned, besides my keeping, these four guineas, and these poor
clothes here upon my back, and in my third bundle? Now tell me your mind
freely, without favour or affection.

Alas! my dear girl, says she, you make me unable to speak to you at all:
To be sure it will be the highest affront that can be offered, for you to
leave any of these things behind you; and you must take all your bundles
with you, or my master will never forgive you.

Well, well, Mrs. Jervis, said I, I don't care; I have been too much used
to be snubbed and hardly treated by my master, of late. I have done him
no harm; and I shall always pray for him and wish him happy. But I don't
deserve these things; I know I don't. Then, I can't wear them, if I
should take them; so they can be of no use to me: And I trust I shall not
want the poor pittance, that is all I desire to keep life and soul
together. Bread and water I can live upon, Mrs. Jervis, with content.
Water I shall get any where; and if I can't get me bread, I will live
like a bird in winter upon hips and haws, and at other times upon pig-
nuts and potatoes, or turnips, or any thing. So what occasion have I for
these things?--But all I ask is about these four guineas, and if you
think I need not return them, that is all I want to know.--To be sure, my
dear, you need not, said she; you have well earned them by that waistcoat
only. No, I think not so, in that only; but in the linen, and other
things, do you think I have? Yes, yes, said she, and more. And my
keeping allowed for, I mean, said I, and these poor clothes on my back,
besides? Remember that, Mrs. Jervis. Yes, my dear odd-one, no doubt you
have. Well then, said I, I am as happy as a princess. I am quite as