The History of Little Peter, the Ship Boy

The History of Little Peter, the
Ship Boy, by

W.H.G. Kingston This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no
cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give
it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License
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Title: The History of Little Peter, the Ship Boy
Author: W.H.G. Kingston
Release Date: October 11, 2007 [EBook #22944]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE
HISTORY OF LITTLE PETER ***

Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England

Little Peter, the Ship Boy, by W.H.G. Kingston.
CHAPTER ONE.
PETER'S HOME AND FRIENDS.

"Are you better, mother, to-day?" asked little Peter, as he went up to
the bed on which Widow Gray lay, in a small chamber of their humble
abode.
"I trust so, my boy," she answered, in a doubtful tone, as she gazed
fondly on the ruddy, broad, honest face of her only child, and put aside
the mass of light hair which clustered curling over his brow, to imprint
on it a loving kiss. "I tried to get up to help Betsy when she came to
tidy the house, but did not feel strong enough; and the doctor, who
looked in soon after, said I had better stay quiet, and gave me some
stuff which I trust may do me good. Betsy kindly stopped and put
everything to rights, but since she went I have felt lonely, and have
been longing for you to come home."
Betsy was an old woman who lived nearly half a mile off, on the
hill-side. She had known Mary Gray from her childhood, and came
every day, without fee or reward, to assist her during the grievous
illness from which she had long been suffering, while little Peter was
away tending Farmer Ashton's sheep on the neighbouring downs.
Widow Gray's cottage stood towards the bottom on the sloping side of
some lofty downs, which extended far away east and west, as well as a
considerable distance southward towards the ocean, which was, as the
crow flies, about ten miles off from the highest point above it. The hill
formed one side of a valley, through which flowed a sparkling stream
bordered by trees, with here and there scattered about the cottages of
the hamlet of Springvale. Far away at the lower end rose amid the trees
the slender spire of the little church. On the other side of the valley was
a further succession of open downs, crossed only by a single road a
considerable distance, off, so that a more secluded nook than
Springvale could not be found for many a mile round.
The widow's cottage gave signs of decay, though it was evident that
such attempts as required no expense had been made to keep it in repair.
The holes in the roof had been stuffed full of furze and grass, kept
down by heavy stones from being blown off by the wind; the broken
panes in the windows were replaced by pieces of board or stout paper;
and rough stakes filled up the spaces where the once neat palings had

given way. Each foot of the small garden was cultivated, though clearly
by an unscientific hand. Indeed, little Peter was the sole labourer, he
devoting to it every moment he could spare from attendance on his sick
parent after his return from his daily work, patching up many a rent in
the cottage produced by weather and time.
Peter, indeed, did his very utmost to support his mother, by working
early and late--not a moment was he idle; but do all he could he often
was unable to gain enough to find food for her and for himself, though
he was content with a dry crust and a draught from the bright spring
which bubbled out of the hill-side. The little cottage and garden was
her own, left to her by her father, Simon Field, a hard-working man,
who by temperate habits and industry had been enabled to purchase the
ground and to build the cottage, though that, to be sure, was put up
chiefly by his own hands. Simon Field, however, was more than an
industrious man, he was a pious and enlightened Christian, and had
brought up his children in the truth as it is in Christ Jesus. Mary, the
youngest daughter, had gone to service, and had obtained a situation in
the house of a lately married couple, of whom Simon had heard a good
report, and felt confident that she would be treated with Christian
kindness and consideration. One by one, Simon Field's wife and
children were taken from him, and when Mary's kind mistress also died,
she returned home to live