After knocking, the door opened upon a comfortably spread table; the sight of which seemed at once to increase my hunger sevenfold.

Not daring to enter, I said I had been sent to him in search of employ.

"Well," said he, "Come in and take thy breakfast, and get warm, and we will talk about it; thee must be cold without any coat." "_Come in and take thy breakfast, and get warm!_" These words spoken by a stranger, but with such an air of simple sincerity and fatherly kindness, made an overwhelming impression upon my mind.

They made me feel, spite of all my fear and timidity, that I had, in the providence of God, found a friend and a home.

He at once gained my confidence; and I felt that I might confide to him a fact which I had, as yet, confided to no one.
From that day to this, whenever I discover the least disposition in my heart to disregard the wretched condition of any poor or distressed persons with whom I meet, I call to mind these words--"_Come in and take thy breakfast, and get warm_." They invariably remind me of what I was at that time; my condition was as wretched as that of any human being can possibly be, with the exception of the loss of health or reason.