Other little boys have kind mothers to love them, but I am alone in the world.

Aunt, let me be your boy--your own dear little boy, and I will love you almost as well as I did my poor mamma!" The good woman caught me to her heart, tears were streaming down her kind, benevolent face, she kissed me passionately, as she sobbed out, "Geoffrey, you will never know how much I love you--more, my poor boy, than I dare own.

But rest assured that you shall never want a mother's love while I live." Well and conscientiously did she perform her promise.

She has long been dead, but time will never efface from my mind a tender recollection of her kindness.

Since I arrived at man's estate, I have knelt beside her grave, and moistened the turf which enfolds that warm, noble heart with grateful tears.
She had, as I before stated, one son--the first-born and only survivor of a large family.