There lived in Ireland a long time ago a certain Lord Altham.  The time was about sixty years before our American Revolution.  This Lord Altham was a weak and foolish man.  He quarreled with his wife, and sent her away.  He wasted his money in wicked living, and got into debt.  He had a little son named James Annesley.  “Jemmy,” as he was called, was sent to a boarding school; but the father grew more wicked, and more careless of his son.  He sent the boy away, and pretended that he was dead.  He did this because he wanted to sell some property that he could not sell if Jemmy were alive.

Jemmy found himself badly treated where he lived.  When he complained, he was told that his father did not pay his board:  so he ran away.  He lived in the streets with rough boys.  He ran on errands for pay, like the other little street boys.  But still the boys knew that Jemmy was the son of a lord.  Strangers were surprised to hear a little ragged boy called “my lord” by his playmates.

When he was about thirteen years old, his father died.  Then Jemmy Annesley became Lord Altham in place of his father; but his uncle Richard, who was a cruel man, took Jemmy’s property, and called himself Lord Altham.

The wicked uncle was afraid that people would find out that Jemmy was alive, and he sent a man to see where the boy was.  When the boy was found, his uncle accused him of stealing a silver spoon.  He hired three policemen to arrest the boy and put him on a ship.  Poor Jemmy wept bitterly.  He told the people he was afraid his uncle would kill him.  The ship took him to Philadelphia, where he was sold to a farmer to serve until he should be of age.

[Illustration:  Kidnapping a Lord.]

One day, when he was about seventeen years old, he came into his master’s house with a gun in one hand and a squirrel in the other.  There were two strangers sitting by the fire.  They had found the door open, and had walked in.

One of the men said, “Are you a servant in this house?”

“I am,” said James.

“What country did you come from?”

“Ireland.”

“We are from Ireland ourselves,” said one of the strange men.  “What part of Ireland are you from?”

“From the county of Wexford.”

“We are from that county.  What is your name?”

“James Annesley.”

“I never heard that name there,” said the traveler.

“Did you know Lord Altham?” asked the boy.

“Yes.”

“Well, I am his son.”

“What!” cried the stranger, “you the son of Lord Altham!  Impossible!”

But the young man insisted that he was Lord Altham’s son.

“Tell me how Lord Altham’s house stands,” said the stranger.

The young man told him enough to show that he knew all about the place.  Then the stranger said, that, if James ever came to Ireland to claim his estate, he would do what he could to help him.