Historical Children's Literature Collection

The history of a little boy found under an haycock [unknown] [1820?]

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Found Under an Haycock.
James Kenclrew, Printer, Colliergate.
As Miss Mildmay and her sister
were a walking one summer afternoon,
in a meadow adjoining their papa's
house, they heard the cries of a poor
little infant in distress; and going to
the place from whence the voice proceeded, they found a sweet little boy
under a haycock quite naked, crying,
Oh my mam ! my mam ! was all the
ladies could get out of the poor little
creature for some time. But Miss
Mildmay taking him up in her arms,
covered him with her cloak, and carried him home, and dressed him in
some of her brother Billy's old clothes;
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and after soothing him all in her power,
and giving him some sweetmeats, she
asked him how he came naked under the haycock, Mammy left Harry
asleep, lisped the poor child, and then
burst again into such a flood of tears,
crying, O my mam ! my mam! as
made each one's heart ache who heard
him.   Consider, my clear little readers,
the dreadful situation of this helpless
innocent, left naked to the wide world,
no brother, no sister, no friend to
cherish or protect him; and learn from
hence to place a proper value upon
the tenderness and affection of your
parents, lest you should be deservedly
 forsaken by them in the same manner as poor Harry Haycock was, who
did not deserve it; for notwithstanding this cruel treatment of his parents, I assure you Harry was not a
bad child, and therefore found a friend
where all good children will. God
Almighty, wrho will be a father to the
fatherless,; if good children, and he
can judge not from words and actions
alone, he. observes each sinful thought
also, and was therefore no stranger
to the goodness of Harry's heart, and
did not forsake him, though his parent did; but raised him up a friend,
and a good one too in Miss Mildmay's
papa, who did not send Harry to the
parish as most poor foundlings are,
but brought him up at his own ex-
pence, for which Harry was not ungrateful, butendeavoured by diligence
and assiduity for to render all the
Return in his power. Mr, Mildmay
farmed a large estate of his own, and
little Harry lent him all the assistance
he could in the management of it.
He rose in the morning with the lark;
and as soon as he had said his prayers
and washed his face and hands, out
he goes into the yard, and calls all
the fowls, cocks, turkeys, and geese
about him, cock, cock, cockatoovcried
the cock; quack, quack, cried the
duck ; lubber, cried the turkey cock.
As soon as Harry had done with the
fowls, he takes his whip in his hand,
and marches over the ground to see
that the sheeD and oxen are all in their
proper places—Hey day says he,   .
Little boy Blue, blow your horn,
The cows in the meadow, the sheep
in the corn,
What, this is the way you  mind the
Under the haycock, fast asleep.
Ah !   you lazy rogue, I'll cure you
©f going to sleep and neglecting your
business ; with that he gave him sucb
a twinge by the ear, and then whipped
him behind the haycock, leaving Blue
to wonder from whence it came. In
one end of his master's estate to the
other, before breakfast, taking care to
return in time to be one of the first
in school, and while he was there, no
boy paid more attention to his book
than he did, he did not idle away his
time like Ned Noddle, and get a good
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II ! Ill    I 111
rap on the shoulders two or the times
a day,—No, no, he stuck close to his
books as well as his business whilst
he was at it • but when that was over'
he was as fond of a little innocent
amusement as any of them, and would
not sit over the fire on a fine moon
light evening, but you might hear him
call the boys of the village together.
Billy Bright, come out and play,
The moon doth shine as bright as day,
Pray quick attend your playmate's call
Come with a good will or not at all.
Well, what shall we divert ourselves
at for an hour, says Frank Fearnought.
Suppose we play at soldiers—I can't
say I am fond of playing at soldiers,
replies Harry ; for however necessary
such men are, it is an employment of
too-fatal a tendency in itself to be admired as a diversion. Observe poor
Tom Mills, (who was hobbling towards them on his crutches) what a
wretched existence he is obliged to
drag about! He lost both his legs at
the battle of—God bless you ; young
gentlemen, says the poor fellow taking
off his hat with an air of decent  hti-
mility, bestow vour  charity upon an
old soldier* Don't trouble us with
your importunities, cried Frank Flint.
Go to Chelsea, and get relief there.
For shame, Master Flint, says our
hero, thus to insult an unfortunate old
man whose best blood has been spilt
in defence of his country, rather let
lis contribute some trifle towards leg*
sening his miseries ; and putting his
hand in his pocket, he gave him the
only penny of which he was master.
Now my little readers bear this in
your mind, (like Harry) never insult
the unfortunate, lest some misfortune
befal you.
J. Kekdrew, Printer, York.


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