At last, I found out the Pulpit, and having shut too the Door, I laid me down on the Mat and Cushion to sleep; when something thrust and pulled the Door, as I thought for Admittance, which prevented my going to sleep. At last it cries, _Bow, wow, wow_; and I concluded it must be Mr. _Saunderson_'s Dog, which had followed me from their House to Church, so I opened the Door, and called _Snip, Snip_, and the Dog jumped up upon me immediately. After this _Snip_ and I lay down together, and had a most comfortable Nap; for when I awoke again it was almost light. I then walked up and down all the Isles of the Church to keep myself warm; and though I went into the Vault, and trod on Lady _Ducklington's_ Coffin, I saw no Ghost, and I believe it was owing to the Reason Mr. _Long_ has given you, namely, that there is no such Thing to be seen. As to my Part, I would as soon lie all Night in the Church as in any other Place; and I am sure that any little Boy or Girl, who is good, and loves GOD Almighty, and keeps his Commandments, may as safely lie in the Church, or the Church-yard, as any where else, if they take Care not to get Cold; for I am sure there are no Ghosts, either to hurt, or to frighten them; though any one possessed of Fear might have taken Neighbour _Saunderson_'s Dog with his cold Nose for a Ghost; and if they had not been undeceived, as I was, would never have thought otherwise. All the Company acknowledged the Justness of the Observation, and thanked Little _Two-Shoes_ for her Advice.
After this, my dear Children, I hope you will not believe any foolish Stories that ignorant, weak, or designing People may tell you about _Ghosts_; for the Tales of _Ghosts_, _Witches_, and _Fairies_, are the Frolicks of a distempered Brain. No wise Man ever saw either of them. Little _Margery_ you see was not afraid; no, she had _good Sense_, and a _good Conscience_, which is a Cure for all these imaginary Evils.
_Of something which happened to Little_ Two-Shoes_ in a Barn, more dreadful than the Ghost in the Church; and how she returned Good for Evil to her Enemy Sir_ Timothy.
Some Days after this a more dreadful Accident befel Little _Madge_. She happened to be coming late from teaching, when it rained, thundered, and lightened, and therefore she took Shelter in a Farmer's Barn at a Distance from the Village. Soon after, the Tempest drove in four Thieves, who, not seeing such a little creep-mouse Girl as _Two-Shoes_, lay down on the Hay next to her, and began to talk over their Exploits, and to settle Plans for future Robberies. Little _Margery_ on hearing them, covered herself with Straw. To be sure she was sadly frighted, but her good Sense taught her, that the only Security she had was in keeping herself concealed; therefore she laid very still, and breathed very softly. About Four o'Clock these wicked People came to a Resolution to break both Sir _William Dove's_ House, and Sir _Timothy Gripe's_, and by Force of Arms to carry off all their Money, Plate and Jewels; but as it was thought then too late, they agreed to defer it till the next Night. After laying this Scheme they all set out upon their Pranks, which greatly rejoiced _Margery_, as it would any other little Girl in her Situation. Early in the Morning she went to Sir _William_, and told him the whole of their Conversation. Upon which, he asked her Name, gave her Something, and bid her call at his House the Day following. She also went to Sir _Timothy_ notwithstanding standing he had used her so ill; for she knew it was her Duty to _do Good for Evil_. As soon as he was informed who she was, he took no Notice of her; upon which she desired to speak to Lady _Gripe_; and having informed her Ladyship of the Affair, she went her Way. This Lady had more Sense than her Husband, which indeed is not a singular Case; for instead of despising Little _Margery_ and her Information, she privately set People to guard the House. The Robbers divided themselves, and went about the Time mentioned to both Houses, and were surprized by the Guards, and taken. Upon examining these Wretches, one of which turned Evidence, both Sir _William_ and Sir _Timothy_ found that they owed their Lives to the Discovery made by Little _Margery_, and the first took great Notice of her, and would no longer let her lie in a Barn; but Sir _Timothy_ only said, that he was ashamed to owe his Life to the Daughter of one who was his Enemy; so true it is, _that a proud Man seldom forgives those he has injured_.