The good news which met Winifred was the arrival of a letter and a parcel from her father, whose ship had come into Plymouth, instead of into Bristol as usual, having been damaged by a gale not far from the coast. The parcel contained, besides tokens for the rest of the family, the promised new gown for Winifred, and better still, three new books! One of these was the "Pilgrim's Progress," then lately published, with wood-cuts, which, however rude they might appear beside the latest edition of the Tract Society and the Sunday-School Union, were marvels of art in the eyes of our young friend. The other books were "A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life," by Mr. William Law, and the "Paradise Lost" of John Milton. "These seem but grave books for a young maid like Winifred," wrote her father; "but I have read the 'Pilgrim's Progress,' and believe my serious daughter will care more for it than for any fairy tale. The other books were given me by a very grave and religious gentleman who went out to India on board our ship; so I doubt not Winifred will be pleased with them. I have just now heard of the terrible things which have been happening among you, and I am thankful that none of our family have been engaged in them, but I doubt I shall hear heavy tidings of some of our neighbors. I cannot leave the ship just at present, but I shall come as soon as possible." Delighted as Winifred was with her new treasures, she had scant time to examine them. She was wanted everywhere at once—by Jack's bedside, to tell him tales and sing him to sleep; in the dairy, to churn, while Priscy carried their lunch to the men in the barley field; then to feed the fowls, and take especial care of a brood of late chickens; to count up the ducks and drive home the young turkeys. She had hardly time to eat her supper, and any visit to Dame Sprat was of course out of the question; so she carefully locked up the basket lest it should tell tales, and set about her multifarious tasks with her usual neatness and dispatch. As Dame Magdalen said, the child was run off her feet! So that when bed-time came, she was glad to go to bed without even asking to sit by the fire and examine her precious new books. CHAPTER VI. A NARROW ESCAPE.