Then Giles took Charles into the garden, and the gardener gave them each a hoe and a rake, and told them to hoe up the weeds on the flower borders, and then rake them neatly over, and promised if they worked well he would give them eight-pence per day.

Now this was much pleasanter than picking stones in the field, but Charles was very sad, and could not refrain from shedding tears when he thought of the time when he used to play in that very garden, and he thought, too, of his dear mamma who was dead, and of his sister Clara, whom he had not seen for so many months, but he worked as hard as he could, and the gardener praised them both, and he gave them a basket to put the weeds in, and showed them how to rake the borders smooth.

Just as they had finished the job, and Charles was saying to Giles, “How neat our work looks!” a little boy, dressed very fine, came into the garden, and, as he passed them, said:  “I am glad I am a gentleman’s son, and not obliged to work like these dirty boys.”

When Charles thought the little boy was out of hearing, he said to Giles:  “That little boy is as wicked as I used to be, and I doubt not but that God will punish him in the same way if he does not mend his manners.”

The little boy, who had overheard what Charles said, was very angry, and made ugly faces, and ran into the newly-raked beds, and covered them with footmarks.  Then Charles said:  “I am sorry for you, young gentleman, for I see you are not good.”

“How dare you say I am not good?” said this naughty child.  “I am a great deal better than you, for I am a gentleman, and you are only a poor boy.”

“Yes,” said Charles, his eyes filling with tears as he spoke, “I am, indeed, only a poor boy now, but I was once rich like you, and lived in this very house, and wore fine clothes, and had plenty of toys and money, and was just as proud and naughty as you are, but God, to punish me, took away my parents and all those things that I had been so proud of, and that I had made such a bad use of, and reduced me to a poor boy, as you see.”

When the little boy heard this he looked very serious, and said:  “I have been very naughty, but I will do so no more,” and he went into the house, and never teased Charles or Giles again.

A few months after this, when Charles and Giles were working as usual in the garden, they saw a gentleman come down one of the walks, leading by the hand a little girl dressed in a black silk frock and bonnet trimmed with crape.

“Ah, Giles,” said Charles, “how like that young lady is to my sister Clara.  I wonder whether I shall ever see my dear sister Clara again.”

“Brother Charles, dear brother Charles, you have not then quite forgotten your sister Clara,” said the little girl, throwing her arms round his neck as she spoke.

When Charles saw that it was, indeed, his own dear sister Clara, he kissed her and cried with joy.