"Why, just this way, ma'am: as soon as young mayster and miss gets old enough to know how things is, they're too old for the nursery; they won't go in leading strings; they must be little men and women. Plain food won't do for 'em; they must have just what their pas and mas has. They've no notion of holding their tongues--not they; they must talk with the biggest; and I blames their parents for it, I do. They never think of checking them; they're too much like old Eli. The good old- fashioned rod's gone to light the fire with." "Ay, and Sam," broke in his wife, "what's almost worst of all--and oh! It is a sin and a shame--they let 'em get to the beer and the wine and the spirits: you mustn't say them nay. Ay, it is sad, it is for sure, to see how these little ones is brought up to think of nothing but themselves; and then, when they goes wrong, their fathers and mothers can't think how it is." "You're right, wife; they dress their bodies as they like, and eat and drink what they like, and don't see how Christ bought their bodies for Himself, and they are not their own. Ah! There'll be an awful reckoning one day. Young people can't grow up as they're doing and not leave a mark on our country as it'll take a big fire of the Almighty's chastisements to burn it out." Mrs Franklin sighed, and Mary looked very thoughtful. Mr Tankardew was about to speak when a faint halloo was heard above the noise of the storm, which was now again raging without. All paused to listen. It was repeated again, and this time nearer. "Somebody missed his road, I should think," said Mr Tankardew. "Maybe, sir; I'll go out and see." So saying, Sam Hodges left the kitchen, and calling to quiet his dog who was barking furiously, soon returned with a stranger who was dressed in a long waterproof and felt hat, which he doffed on seeing the ladies, disclosing a head of curling black hair. He was rather tall, and apparently slightly made, as far as could be judged; for the wrappings in which he was clothed from head to foot concealed the build of his person. "Sorry to disturb you," he said, in a gentlemanly voice. "It is a terrible night, and I've missed my way. I ought to have been at Hopeworth by now, perhaps you can kindly direct me." "Nay," said the farmer, "you mustn't be off again to-night: we'll manage to take you in: we'll find you a bed, and you're welcome to such as we have to eat and drink: it is plain, but it is wholesome." "A thousand thanks, kind friends," replied the other; "but I feel sure that I am intruding. These ladies--" "We are driven in here like yourself by the storm," said Mrs Franklin. "I'm sure I should be the very last to wish any one to expose himself again to such a night on our account."