Mr. Seagrave, Ready, and William, as usual, went down to their work; Mrs. Seagrave and Juno, with little Caroline, were busy indoors. Tommy remained very quiet for an hour, when he commenced roaring; but it was of no use, no one paid any attention to him. At dinner-time he began to roar again, but with as little success: it was not till the evening that the door of the hen-house was opened, and Tommy permitted to come out. He looked very foolish; and sat down in a corner without speaking. "Well, Tommy, how many eggs did you suck to-day" said Ready. "Tommy won't suck eggs any more," said the urchin. "No, you had better not," replied Mr. Seagrave, "or you will find, in the end, that you will have less to eat, instead of more, as you have this day." Tommy waited very quietly and very sulkily till supper was ready, when he made up for lost time. After which Ready continued his narrative. "I told you, William, that I was informed by the gentleman on the coach that my mother had died of a broken heart, in consequence of my supposed death. I was in agony until I arrived at Newcastle, where I could ascertain all the facts connected with her decease. When the coach stopped, the gentleman, who had remained outside, came to the coach door, and said to me, `If I mistake not, you are Masterman Ready, who ran away to sea; are you not?' `Yes, sir,' replied I, very sorrowfully, `I am.' `Well, my man,' said he, `cheer up; when you went away you were young and thoughtless, and certainly had no idea that you would have distressed your mother as you did. It was not your going to sea, but the report of your death, which preyed so much upon her mind; and that was not your fault. You must come with me, as I have something to say to you.'