A stout healthy woman, named Mary Norris was continually taken up as a
vagrant, or committed for petty larceny. As soon as she was discharged
from the penalty of one misdemeanor, she was committed for another. One
day, Friend Hopper, who was then inspector, said to her, "Well, Mary,
thy time is out next week. Dost thou think thou shalt come back again?"
"Yes," she replied sullenly.
"Dost thou _like_ to come back?" inquired he.
"No, to be sure I don't," rejoined the prisoner. "But I've no doubt I
_shall_ come back before the month is out."
"Why dost thou not make a resolution to behave better?" said the kindly
inspector.
"What use would it be?" she replied. "You wouldn't take me into your
family. The doctor wouldn't take me into his family. No respectable
person would have anything to do with me. My associates _must_ be such
acquaintances as I make here. If they steal, I am taken up for it; no
matter whether I am guilty or not. I am an old convict, and nobody
believes what I say. O, yes, I shall come back again. To be sure I shall
come back," she repeated bitterly.
Her voice and manner excited Friend Hopper's compassion, and he thus
addressed her: "If I will get a place for thee in some respectable
family where they will be kind to thee, wilt thou give me thy word that
thou wilt be honest and steady, and try to do thy duty."
Her countenance brightened, and she eagerly answered, "Yes I _will_! And
thank God and you too, the longest day I have to live."
He exerted his influence in her behalf, and procured a situation for her
as head-nurse at the alms-house. She was well contented there, and
behaved with great propriety. Seventeen years afterward, when Friend
Hopper had not seen her for a long time, he called to inquire about her,
and was informed that during all those years, she had been an honest,
sober, and useful woman. She was rejoiced to see him again, and
expressed lively gratitude, for the quiet and comfortable life she
enjoyed through his agency.