I come from taking a walk on the banks of a rivulet, which bathes the walls of a pavilion, where I often go to see them fish. As it was very early, I amused myself with observing across the river, some young country girls, who were going with baskets of flowers and fruits, to the neighbouring town. They sung, they laughed in their boat; they presented the very image of joy; their habits were neat, their baskets prettily arranged. They wore large straw hats, under which, one is apt to fancy every face handsome; they were really very agreeable. As the boat went off, one better made than the rest, arrived; she appeared very melancholy, and without showing any regret, because they had not stayed for her, she set down her basket upon a heap of gravel, and began to walk backwards and forwards by the river side. I bid Betty call her; she came to us; I purchased all her nosegays, and asked her, why she did not sing like the others? My question moved her; she endeavoured to restrain her tears, and told me with a most charming sincerity, that she was ready to break her heart; that Moses, one of my Lord Wilton's tenants, had made her die with grief, she and another: and that the remembrance of that other made her shed a great many tears. The poor child interested me, I would know all, and here you have the history of my little gardener. It is, that Moses – Pray attend, my dear – Moses is a wicked miser; he had agreed, that Tommy his grandson should marry Sally, who loves Tommy as she loves her eyes. The wedding day was fixed, the clothes were bought, the relations invited, the fiddles bespoke; and behold, a letter which came from Oxford, has induced Moses to change his mind. Tommy's sister is dead, and has left him some money, and the vile Moses, will not now accept Sally for his grandaughter; at least, not unless her fortune is encreased in proportion to Tommy's inheritance.