"I believe that he did. I remember seeing him as a gray-headed old man, and he then showed me his little copy in gold and blue, looking very much the worse for wear; and he told me that he thought that if there were any good in him, he owed it to the example and advice of my father." "And was your father obliged to leave his situation?" "Some delay occurred in supplying his place; he was, therefore, allowed to remain about ten days longer. He felt very sad and low on the Sunday evening on which he was to pay his last visit to his little school, for as he had as yet been unable to get another situation in London, he intended to return to his mother." "He found his young pupils ready for him as usual; but a cloud of sorrow was over them, for they know that they were to welcome their kind teacher no more. My father tried to improve to them even the occasion of their mutual distress; he spoke to them of the place where there is no more parting, of the unending joys prepared for God's servants when His kingdom of glory shall come. He concluded by placing before the children his last remaining copy of the book in gold and blue, and offering it as a prize to the most industrious pupil, on condition of his reading it aloud to his companions." "'Oh! That is just like the book which makes my mother sad!' cried a little barefooted boy from a corner of the room." "My father started at the words, for he thought of that which he well remembered having placed in his lost pocket-book!" "'Where did your mother get one like this? How long has she had it?' he cried eagerly." "'I don't know where she got it,' replied the child, looking down. 'I think that she has had it about a week; she laughed when she began to read it, but, before she had done, she was crying as I never saw her cry before.'" "After the lesson was over, and my father had received the oft-repeated farewells and good wishes of his pupils, not unmixed with tears, which went warmer to his heart than all the praises of man could have done, he laid his hand on the arm of the barefooted boy, and gently drew him along with him down the steep staircase, until they stood together in the street." "'I should like to see your mother,' he said to the boy." "'She lives quite near, just round the corner; I will take you to her if you wish it,' replied the child." "'Am I foolish to indulge this strange hope?' thought my father, as he followed his little guide. 'But nowhere else have I seen any books like my three, and it may be that the Almighty has granted me a clue by which to find out the lost property of my master, and clear my own character from suspicion.'"