_Clar._ Can poor, injured, unhappy children, in any situation, be _strangers_ to me? And have wards, intrusted to my care, fewer titles to my assistance than my own children? And have not you, in the name of the magistrates, appointed me one of their guardians? _P. Coun._ That, as they are unfortunate, I might see them in good hands. _Clar._ Why, they are in good hands. I am come to request you to see the business speedily executed. Of the verdict itself I will make no mention. You will act as an honest man, or else I must despise you, and look for redress elsewhere. Meanwhile, I tell you, the children shall not go to the hospital, because that is impracticable. _P. Coun._ Father, I Have given my word. _Clar._ You must recall it. _P. Coun._ How can I? _Clar._ Say you did not understand the matter. It is upon my word better than to expose your name to shame or ridicule, and to fill your mind with inquietude. _P. Coun._ Father, I love you dearly, but pray do not interfere with my business. _Clar._ Very well; then you act as Privy Counsellor, as you think proper; and I, as trustee of the hospital and guardian of the children, will do the same. _P. Coun._ Cannot we talk of more agreeable things, and drop that question. I wish you so well, but you reject all I propose. _Clar._ You make me presents in money, and, I am told, you want to make me mayor of the town. Jack, make me no presents! do good to town and country; and, if you can, come after your business is done. I do not care if it be but once or twice every three months; come to me in my timber-yard. Then we will close the doors, seat ourselves in the little bower, where, when a boy, you used to sit so industriously about your tasks; there we will spend an hour in happy converse, and drink a glass of old wine that you shall send me; then I will thank God for my dear boy, who has continued to be a good son, and, when you leave me again to repair to your desk, I will give you my blessing, and look after you, till you are quite out of sight! Do you see, Jack, I ask no more;--I have no occasion for more; but this I earnestly request of you. Give me your hand, that you will do it. That is the way I wish you to honour and to please me. _P. Coun._ I shall do more, father. Pray accept it, and--