Mr. Price’s interest in this little community did not stop here; he persuaded Bonny Betty to let her son Ben go to the hospital, and have the wen on his forehead examined, promising that he would himself pay all the necessary expenses; such as suitable clothes, travelling charges and extra nursing. The boy was so eager and the neighbours so clamourous in their entreaties, that poor Betty gave a reluctant assent. Ben went, and in one month he returned perfectly cured—the wen taken out, and his eye-sight very much improved. Kate was sent to town next, and by means of Casey’s dormant balance, and Mrs. M’Curdy’s kind treatment, the injured spine, although not entirely restored to its healthy state, was prevented from further distortion. She remained under medical care, and it was owing to this humane and judicious treatment that she was relieved of her lameness, a lameness caused by general debility. A few bottles of Swaim’s panacea, entirely removed the scrofulous complaint of Jenny. Bob was found to be nearly devoured by worms; the doctor of the village, when called in, soon removed _his_ complaint, and his hearing improved as his stomach recovered its tone. But poor little Christie was beyond cure; he died in the fall to the very great grief of poor Betty, who was passionately attached to her children. The little deaf and dumb girl was sent to the asylum in Hartford, and there she received an education, which fitted her as a teacher to others of her own class. The lifting up of one kind hand did all this for poor Bonny Betty; five good little creatures, helpless and forlorn, an incumbrance to their mother, and a tax on all around them, were thus made useful members of society; whereas, in the course of time, they must necessarily have gone to the alms-house. But to return to our friends in the shanties. Early, full an hour before sunrise, on the fifteenth of April, all the gardeners were at work under old Daniel M’Leary’s superintendence; for his very youth seemed renewed, so much was he raised in his own estimation. Instead of being a cumberer of the earth, as in his fits of despondency he used to call himself, he was now a second Napoleon ruling over the destiny of others—their well doing was entrusted to his care, and many were his mental promises to be just—if he could keep them. At the sound of his shrill whistle the little band left off work, in time to eat their breakfast, and be ready to go to their several employments when the bells rung. At twelve all ate their dinner, and for half an hour were again in their garden plot where they wrought—and pleasant it was to work in the open air under such a glorious sky, with more satisfaction than they ever did in their lives; for the proceeds of their labour was their own.