I pray that he may keep it." I saw their wants, bade them good-by, and went home. Early next morning I packed up a two bushel basket full of provisions, with some articles of wearing apparel, and sent it to them, and had the pleasing satisfaction of hearing some months afterwards that they were all right. The old man was a thorough teetotaller, the family were all comfortable, and continued so the last time I heard from them. Reader, there is no fiction about this story, 'tis true, and do you think that I shall ever lose the value of the provisions that 1 gave this family? I have one more State Prison story to tell you, and will then go about something else.
I think it was in the Autumn of 1835. I attended the Baptist Church in Federal street, under the pastoral care of the Rev. William Hague. Several times at our vestry prayer meetings I noticed a very gentlemanly looking young man who usually wore a large broadcloth cloak, his hair fixed off in the first style. He was a regular attendant on Sabbath days, as well as at all the prayer meetings. He frequently visited the pastor, conversing chiefly on the subject of religion, and became familiarly acquainted with the deacons and the leading members of the church. He frequently took an active part in the conference meetings, and one Sunday evening he arose, and with a drawling, melancholy voice, said that he had been very much shocked at the wickedness of a young lady at the house where he boarded.
She had actually played a march on the piano during the intermission, and it made him feel so bad that he was obliged to retire to his room and go to prayer. After a few weeks, he proposed himself for membership, and really, all thought him an exemplary and pious young man. But not wishing to be thought egotistical, or of arrogating to myself any superiority in a knowledge of human nature, will just say, that during this time, I had not the least confidence in him, for I caught him in a falsehood to begin with. He appeared to he very much attached to me, saying that he was in the Mediterranean with me. He had probably heard me say that I was two years there, and thought that he could manufacture a sort of intimacy out of it.
Neither did I wish to make known my scruples, fearing that possibly I might be mistaken, in which case my remarks might be injurious to him. At the same time I felt well satisfied that he was a fire-ship in disguise. Another thing excited my suspicion, he frequently asked me if I knew of any employment that he could engage in. Now, here he was, rigged out like a nabob, boarding at an expensive house, and no employment. He passed the regular examination, as to his Christian experience, was baptized, and received as a member of the Church. But somehow, 1 could not feel towards him as I should. I knew nothing about him derogatory to the Christian character, and as a matter of duty, should have felt the same cordiality for him as for any other, but it was not long before the true character of our newly-initiated brother came out.
About three weeks after his reception into the Church, at one of our evening meetings, the pastor requested the male members to remain after the meeting was dismissed. He then said that he had some unpleasant intelligence to communicate, which filled him with distress. It was, that the young man of whom I have been speaking, had that day been arrested for stealing. A committee was appointed to investigate the affair, and report at the next church meeting. On the following day I ascertained the particulars of the theft, which were that, in passing along the south side of Quincy Market, he fixed his eye on six tubs of butter, and very adroitly, with a piece of chalk, wrote his initials upon them, then stepping oft' a short distance, called a hand cart, and told the man to take that butter and follow him.
He put it on his cart, no one asking any questions, and went off, the fellow leading him up to Cunningham's auction room, corner of Milk and Congress streets. The butter was put into the store. Our gentleman, witli his large cloak and dangling tassels, stepped up to Mr. C, saying, that he was to leave in the eleven o'clock train, and he had the remains of a large invoice of excellent butter, which he wanted sold for cash, as soon as possible. While waiting for the sale, a police officer, accompanied by the hand cart man, stepped up to him, put his hand on the gentleman's shoulder, " How do you do, sir? How do you sell butter?" Heat first denied any knowledge of it, but it was no use to deny it, he was marched off to Jail, and locked up.