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person, and one who had a considerable share of humanity interwoven in his composition, readily complied with Trueman's request, to relate the misfortunes of the worthy pastor.
"I will tell you, sir," said he, "the story of Parson Benley. You must know, sir, that he is the curate of our parish. The living, which is the gift of my Lord Belfont, belongs to a clergyman, who lives in the west; and, though it brings him in a good three hundred pounds a-year, he gives his curate only forty pounds out of it. So that, you see, the master gets two hundred and sixty pounds for doing nothing, as one may say, while the servant, who does every thing, is obliged to be contended with scarcely a seventh part of that sum: and though the good woman, his wife, brought him a large family, he could never get any increase of salary. This made him determine on taking a farm; which, by the death of one of his neighbours, became vacant. But I don't know how it was, though he worked as hard as any day-labourer in the parish, and his wife was as industrious as a bee, they couldn't, as the saying is, bring both ends together: and, to make short of the matter, my lord's steward seized on his stock, Which not being sufficient to pay all arrears, the hard-hearted rascal clapt him into the county gaol."
"And his family, asked Trueman, "what are become of them?"
"His wife and four children," returned the landlord, "three fine boys from ten to thirteen years old, and a daughter grown up, are in a cottage hard by, that belongs to me. The overseer
