I will every day,
however, write my sad state; and some way, perhaps, may be opened to send
the melancholy scribble to you. But, alas! when you know it, what will
it do but aggravate your troubles? For, O! what can the abject poor do
against the mighty rich, when they are determined to oppress?
Well, but I must proceed to write what I had hoped to tell you in a few
hours, when I believed I should receive your grateful blessings, on my
return to you from so many hardships.
I will begin with my account from the last letter I wrote you, in which I
enclosed my poor stuff of verses; and continue it at times, as I have
opportunity; though, as I said, I know not how it can reach you.
The long-hoped for Thursday morning came, when I was to set out. I had
taken my leave of my fellow-servants overnight; and a mournful leave it
was to us all: for men, as well as women servants, wept much to part with
me; and, for my part, I was overwhelmed with tears, and the affecting
instances of their esteem. They all would have made me little presents,
as tokens of their love; but I would not take any thing from the lower
servants, to be sure. But Mr. Longman would have me accept of several
yards of Holland, and a silver snuff-box, and a gold ring, which he
desired me to keep for his sake; and he wept over me; but said, I am sure
so good a maiden God will bless; and though you return to your poor
father again, and his low estate, yet Providence will find you out:
Remember I tell you so; and one day, though I mayn't live to see it, you
will be rewarded.
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