Lightly as he had talked of going to prison, yet he felt a good deal when actually on his way thither; and when he saw the high walls, the grated windows, the narrow cells,--still more when he heard the clank of the fetters of some of his fellow prisoners, who were confined for heinous offences, his soul sank within him. He was shocked too and mortified at being required to put on that token of disgrace, a prison dress. He did not, however, remain there long. His poor mother was thunderstruck at hearing that her son was really sent to prison, and lost no time in endeavouring to get money enough to pay the fine in order to procure his freedom. She had hardly any money in the house; but her neighbours were ready to lend her what they had by them; and four pounds, being the whole of her savings in service, were eagerly and freely given by Lucy Wilmot, a well-behaved young woman, to whom Jack Wildgoose had for some time been attached. Mrs. Wildgoose could not bear to be in debt; and as she never was able to do much more than just maintain her family, she knew that she must deny herself and her children every little indulgence in order to repay her kind neighbours. But she thought that any thing was better than suffering her son to remain in prison, in the society, it might be, of depraved and abandoned characters. The penalty having been paid, Jack was immediately set at liberty. He felt a little abashed at first coming home; but the kind manner of his mother, who, though her heart was full of grief, would not utter the least reproach, relieved him. Jack soon observed in a variety of little things a change in his mother's manner of living. She had been accustomed, for instance, to give her children a bit of meat baked with a pudding on Sundays. When, instead of this, nothing made its appearance but some potatoes and dripping, with bread and cheese, the girls looked disconcerted, and Sam cried out, "Why, mother, what's become of the meat and pudding? This is no better than a working-day's dinner." Mrs. Wildgoose told them, that she could not at present afford to give them a better, and they should be thankful for what they had. John knew well enough the meaning of this, and, to do him justice, felt a good deal. Often did he now wish that he had in his pocket again those many shillings and sixpences, which he had uselessly spent at the Fighting Cocks.