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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Forgotten Tales of Long Ago, by E. V. Lucas
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Forgotten Tales of Long Ago
+
+Author: E. V. Lucas
+
+Illustrator: F. D. Bedford
+
+Release Date: May 3, 2009 [EBook #28679]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FORGOTTEN TALES OF LONG AGO ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by D Alexander, Josephine Paolucci and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+FORGOTTEN TALES OF LONG AGO.
+
+SELECTED BY E. V. LUCAS
+
+WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY F. D. BEDFORD
+
+3 PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS. LONDON 44 VICTORIA STREET
+
+E. C. WELLS, GARDNER, DARTON & CO. LTD. S.W.
+
+
+C & D Co.
+
+_Fourth Impression, July, 1931._
+
+PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN
+
+WELLS GARDNER, DARTON AND CO., LTD.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration:
+
+    For me the backward glance; for me
+      The tales of old simplicity.
+    And this would be my dearest choice:
+    To hear them in the mother's voice.]
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+In the present volume will be found twenty stories from early writers
+for children, the period being roughly 1790 to 1830, with three later
+and more sophisticated efforts added. Having so recently made remarks on
+the character of these old books--in the preface last year to
+_Old-Fashioned Tales_, a companion volume to this--I have very little to
+say now, except that I hope the selection will be found to be
+interesting. If it is not, it is less my fault than that of the authors,
+who preferred teaching to entertaining, moral improvement to drama. The
+pendulum has now perhaps swung almost too far the other way; but such
+things come right.
+
+My first story, 'Dicky Random,' is from a little book published in 1805,
+entitled _The Satchel; or, Amusing Tales for Correcting Rising Errors in
+Early Youth, addressed to all who wish to grow in Grace and Favour_. On
+the title-page is this motto:
+
+    'Put on the cap, if it will fit,
+    And wiser grow by wearing it.'
+
+There is no author's name. I do not consider the story of Dicky a very
+brilliant piece of work, but it has some pleasing incidents, not the
+least of which is the irreproachable behaviour of the gentlemen at
+dinner. Dicky's father comes out as hardly less foolish than his son,
+which is not common in these books. To call a doctor Hardheart seems to
+me to have been a courageous thing. The sentence, 'The boy's father,
+though a labouring man, had a generous mind,' would help us to date the
+story, even without the evidence of the title-page. It is astonishing
+for how long the poor had to play a degraded part in minor English
+literature.
+
+In another story in the book, called 'Good Manners their own Reward,' I
+find this sentence, which contains an idea for a children's manual that
+certainly ought to be written, under the same title too: 'Master Goodly
+not long after this had the pleasure of seeing a small book printed and
+circulated among his juvenile acquaintance, called "The Way to be
+Invited a Second Time."'
+
+We pass next to a little work of pretty fancy, 'The Months,' which by
+its ingenuity I hope makes up for want of drama. I have included it on
+that ground, and also because if the descriptions were read aloud in
+irregular order to small children, it might be an agreeable means of
+encouraging thought and observation if the listeners were asked to put a
+name to each month. 'The Months' comes from a book published in 1814
+entitled _Tales from the Mountains_, the mountains being those dividing
+England from Wales. A story in the same volume which I nearly included
+has the promising style 'The Spotted Cow and the Pianoforte,' but its
+matter is not equal to its title. It is, indeed, a variation upon a very
+old theme, being the narrative of two girls of equal age who, coming
+into a little prosperity, at once gratify old desires: one, the
+exemplary one, wishing a useful cow, and the other, the frivolous one, a
+piano. The author, in the old remorseless way, contrasts their
+subsequent careers, nothing but happiness and worth falling to the
+sensible girl who chose the cow, and nothing but disaster dogging the
+steps of the foolish desirer of the musical instrument. I do not think
+this to be good working morality, since proficiency on the piano can
+also be a step towards a livelihood and independence, and even Madame
+Schumann, one supposes, had to make a start somehow. The name of the
+author is not known.
+
+Probably no story in this collection had more popularity in its day than
+'Jemima Placid,' of which I use only a portion. And I think it deserved
+it, for it is very pleasantly and sympathetically written, and a better
+understanding of home prevails than in so many of these old books.
+Jemima's brothers seem to me very well drawn, and certain minor touches
+lend an agreeable air of reality to the book. The author's name is, I
+believe, not known. His preface, which I quote here, is very sensible.
+Considering the date, say about 1785, it is curiously sensible and
+discerning:--
+
+     'It has been often said that infancy is the happiest state of
+     human life, as being exempted from those serious cares and that
+     anxiety which must ever in some degree be an attendant on a
+     more advanced age; but the author of the following little
+     performance is of a different opinion, and has ever considered
+     the troubles of children as a severe exercise to their patience
+     when it is recollected that the vexations which they meet with
+     are suited to the weakness of their understanding, and though
+     trifling, perhaps, in themselves, acquire importance from their
+     connection with the puerile inclinations and bounded views of
+     an infant mind, where present gratification is the whole they
+     can comprehend, and therefore suffer in proportion when their
+     wishes are obstructed.
+
+     'The main design of this publication is to prove from example
+     that the pain of disappointment will be much increased by
+     ill-temper, and that to yield to the force of necessity will be
+     found wiser than vainly to oppose it. The contrast between the
+     principal character with the peevishness of her cousins' temper
+     is intended as an incitement to that placid disposition which
+     will form the happiness of social life in every stage, and
+     which, therefore, should not be thought beneath anyone's
+     attention or undeserving of their cultivation.'
+
+'Jemima Placid' is one of the many stories in which the names are
+symbolical. We have another example in 'Dicky Random,' and, I suppose,
+in 'Captain Murderer' too, while in 'Prince Life,' to which we soon
+come, which is frankly an allegory, the habit is carried beyond Bunyan,
+who made his attributes very like men and called them Mr. or Lord to
+increase the illusion or diminish the cheat. The drawback to this kind
+of nomenclature is that it weakens the realism of the story. It also
+perplexes one a little when one thinks of later generations. Jemima's
+two brothers, for example, would marry one day, and their children would
+necessarily be called Placid too. But would they be placid? And was Mr.
+Piner's father a piner? It is even more perplexing when the name carries
+a calling as well, as in Farmer Wheatear, and Giles Joltem, the carter,
+and Mr. Coverup, the sexton, in the old story of _Dame Partlet's Farm_.
+Suppose Mr. Joltem's son had become a chauffeur, with rubber tyres? Or
+could he? If not, these names must have immensely have simplified the
+question 'What to do with our boys?'
+
+It is hardly necessary to say that the books which Jemima took back with
+her from London (on page 46), and which gave such pleasure, were all
+published by the same firm that issued her own history. This was a
+system of advertisement brought to perfection by Newbery of St. Paul's
+Churchyard. It is so very artless and amusing that one is sorry it has
+died out.
+
+For the 'Two Trials' I have gone to a little work entitled _Juvenile
+Trials for telling Fibs, robbing Orchards, and Other Offences_, 1816,
+from which, viâ _Evenings at Home_, I borrowed a story for _Old
+Fashioned Tales_. The book is anonymous. Surely such schoolboys and
+schoolgirls never were on sea or shore; but that does not matter. In the
+old books one did not look for reality.
+
+I have included 'Prince Life' for two reasons. Partly because it seems
+to me not bad of its kind, although far from being as good as 'Uncle
+David's Nonsensical Story' in the _Old-Fashioned Tales_, and partly
+because I thought it interesting to show what kind of stories historical
+novelists write for their own families--for 'Prince Life' was written in
+1855 for his little boy by G. P. R. James, the author of _The Smuggler_,
+_Richelieu_, _Darnley_, and scores of other romances. Allegories, I
+must confess, are not much to my taste; but I have so frequently found
+that what I like others dislike, and what I dislike others like, that I
+include 'Prince Life' here quite confidently. It has given Mr. Bedford
+material for a good picture, anyway.
+
+'The Farmyard Journal,' which follows, is not dramatic, but it has
+plenty of incident, and is included here to foster the gift of
+observation. I found it in a favourite and very excellent and wise old
+book, _Evenings at Home_, by the strong-minded Aikins--a kind of work
+which it grieves one to think is outgrown not only by the readers of
+children's books, but by their writers too.
+
+'The Fruits of Disobedience,' which comes next, follows ordinary lines,
+and is chiefly remarkable for its busy clergy. I included it because the
+topic of kidnapping is one of which I think every collection of old
+stories for children should take notice. In every book of this nature at
+least one child's face must be stained with walnut juice. The story is
+from the anonymous _Tales of the Hermitage, written for the Instruction
+and Amusement of the Rising Generation_, 1778.
+
+'The Rose's Breakfast,' also anonymous, is one of the many imitations of
+Roscoe's _Butterfly's Ball_, about which the English reading public so
+strangely lost its head in 1808. I never considered this a good story,
+but now that I see it in its new type on the fair page of the present
+volume, I am amazed to think I ever marked it for inclusion at all. It
+seems to me poverty-stricken in fancy and very paltry in tone, the idea
+of making beautiful flowers as mean-spirited as trumpery men and women
+can be being wholly undesirable. It is too late to take it out,
+especially as Mr. Bedford has drawn a very charming picture for it, but
+I hope it will remain only as an object-lesson. Possibly its badness may
+incite someone to write a better, and that would be my justification.
+One interesting thing about it is the light it throws on the change of
+fashion in garden flowers.
+
+'The Three Cakes' is from an English translation of the great Monsieur
+Berquin's _L'Ami des Enfants_--the most famous children's book in
+France. Armand Berquin, who, in addition to his own stories, translated
+_Sandford and Merton_ into French, was born in 1750 and died in 1791.
+His _L'Ami des Enfants_, 1784, was in twelve small volumes, and it
+covered most of the ground that a moralist for the young could cover in
+those days. It is more like Priscilla Wakefield's _Juvenile Anecdotes_,
+to which we are coming, on a larger scale, than anything I can name; but
+no imitation, for M. Berquin came first. The idea of 'The Three Cakes'
+was borrowed from M. Berquin by the Taylors for their _Original Poems_,
+and Mary Howitt borrowed it too, also for rhyming purposes. French
+writers when they have tried seriously to interest children, have been
+very successful. I know of few better stories than that which in its
+English translation is called _Little Robinson of Paris_; but it is a
+long book in itself, and could not be condensed for our purposes. While
+on the subject of French stories I may refer to 'The Bunch of Cherries,'
+on page 242 of this volume, which is also French, and comes from a work
+called in the English translation _Tales to My Daughter_. I include it
+for its quaint _naïveté_, and also for its lesson of gratitude and
+minute thoughtfulness. But it was a sad oversight (not too explicable in
+a French romance) not to make Augustus marry the Green Hat.
+
+I included 'Amendment,' from _The Little Prisoners; or, Passion and
+Patience_, 1828, because its idea is an attractive one. There is always
+something engaging, not by any means only to the youthful mind, in the
+idea of a complete change in the conditions and surroundings of one's
+life. That is why so many of us want to be gipsies. The book is
+anonymous.
+
+'Scourhill's Adventure' is from an amusing book called _The Academy_,
+which, for all I know, is the first real boy's school-book ever written.
+Its companion is _The Rector_, and together they describe, with no
+little spirit and reasonableness, a school a hundred years ago, with all
+the escapades and errors of the boys and all the homilies of the
+schoolmaster. I like the episode of Scourhill as well as any because of
+the pleasant interior which it contains--Scourhill's home, with the
+noisy old gentlemen, a little like a scene in Marryat. The books are not
+worth reprinting, in the way that _Lady Anne_ (to which we draw near) is
+worth reprinting; but they are worth looking at if they ever chance to
+fall one's way.
+
+We come next to 'The Journal' from _Juvenile Anecdotes founded on Facts;
+Collected for the Amusement of Children_, 1803, by Priscilla Wakefield.
+A hundred years ago Mrs. Wakefield's books for the nursery (which, if
+its literature is a guide, was in those days less of a nursery than a
+conventicle) were in every shop. She poured them forth--little rushing
+streams of didacticism. The present work, from which, for its
+quaintness, I have chosen 'The Journal,' is a kind of Ann and Jane
+Taylor in very obvious prose. Little girls having spent their
+half-crowns on themselves, at once meet members of the destitute class,
+and, having nothing to give them, are plunged into remorse; little boys
+creeping into the larder to steal jam, eat soft soap by mistake and
+never are greedy again; and so forth. All the conventional images and
+morals are employed. The whole book is one long and emphatic division of
+sheep from goats. 'The Journal' is not perhaps exciting, but it reflects
+the quieter family life of a century ago, and incidentally portrays the
+thorough governess of that day.
+
+Priscilla Wakefield was a Quaker, the great-granddaughter on her
+mother's side of Barclay of Ury, who wrote the _Apology_. She had a
+famous niece, Elizabeth Fry, and a famous grandson, Edward Gibbon
+Wakefield, the colonist. She was born in 1751 and died in 1832; wrote,
+as I have said, many instructive books for the young; and was one of the
+original promoters of savings banks for the people.
+
+'Ellen and George; or, The Game at Cricket' is from an old friend,
+_Tales for Ellen_, by Alicia Catherine Mant, from which I took, for _Old
+Fashioned Tales_, the very pretty history of 'The Little Blue Bag.' I
+do not consider 'Ellen and George' as good as the 'Little Blue Bag,' and
+I should not be surprised if I discovered on a severe analysis of motive
+that it was included here more for its cricket than its human interest.
+But it has a certain sweetness and naturalness too. Ellen's very
+sensible question (as it really was) on page 184, 'Then why don't you
+send the cat away?' is one of the first examples of independent--almost
+revolutionary--thought in a child recorded by a writer for children in
+the early days. To say such a thing to a mother eighty years ago was
+indeed a feat. For the most part children then were to accept all that
+was said to them by their elders as fact, and neither meditate nor utter
+criticism. The principal difference between the children of those days
+and the children of these is their present liberty of criticism. To-day
+every child has his own opinion; a hundred years ago none had.
+
+Some of the remarks on page 186 will divert the young readers of to-day,
+when girls know as much about cricket (and sometimes play as well) as
+boys do. I must confess to much perplexity as to what part could be
+played in the manufacture of wickets by George's hammer and nails. Runs
+were called notches at that time because the scorer cut notches on a
+stick. Wilson's good nature has, I fear, found its way more than once
+into the first-class game--at least, I remember that a full toss on the
+leg side went to Mr. W. G. Grace when he had made ninety-six towards his
+hundredth hundred; and quite right too. When it comes, however, to
+throwing down one's bat and flinging the ball at a batsman (as George
+did), there is no excuse to be offered. I have omitted the end of the
+story, in which Mr. Danvers condescends to take a hand at the game, in a
+match against George and Tom Fletcher (who made it up), and beats them
+by a narrow margin of notches. According to the author he had been in
+his youth a fine bat, but this statement has been cruelly discredited by
+the artist who illustrated the book, and who placed the gentleman in an
+attitude (or 'stance,' as they say now), and gave him a grip on the
+handle, from which nothing but ridicule and disaster could result. Mr.
+Bedford is not like this. Mr. Bedford is one of those rare artists who
+read a story first.
+
+Of 'Waste Not, Want Not' it is unnecessary to speak. It is one of the
+best of the stories in Miss Edgeworth's _Parent's Assistant_, most
+entertaining of books with dull names. I have my doubts as to whether
+Benjamin was not too much encouraged above Hal, but that has nothing to
+do with the story.
+
+We come now to comedy and to farce. 'The Fugitive' I found in an odd
+little book by a Miss Pearson called _A Few Weeks at Clairmont Castle_,
+1828; while 'The Butcher's Tournament' is from Peter Parley. I read this
+story when I was quite a child, and it always remained in my memory, and
+for several years of late I have kept up a desultory search for it. I
+could not, therefore, having chanced upon it in _Peter Parley's Annual_
+for 1843, omit it from this volume. The author's name is not given, but
+I suppose that William Martin wrote it--under the influence of Douglas
+Jerrold, I should say.
+
+For 'Malleville's Night of Adventure' I have gone again to Jacob Abbott,
+from whom last year I took 'Embellishment.' The story is a chapter or
+two of _Beechnut_, best of the Franconia books. Later the author changed
+the name Malleville, which certainly is not beautiful, to Madeline; but
+I have left it here as in the original edition. There seems to be no
+middle way with Jacob Abbott: you must either think him the flattest of
+writers for children, or the most interesting. So many of my earliest
+recollections are bound up with Phonny and Beechnut that I shall always
+think of Jacob Abbott with enthusiasm. But the heretics in this matter I
+can understand, although pitying them too.
+
+For looking through the scores and scores--I might, I believe, say
+hundreds--of books from which to select the twenty stories within these
+covers, I should consider myself amply rewarded by the discovery of
+_Lady Anne_. This story--I might almost say this novel--which is at
+once the longest and, to my mind, the best thing in the present volume,
+is anonymous. All that I know of the author is that she--I take it to be
+a woman's work--wrote also _The Blue Silk Hand-bag_, but of that book I
+have been able to catch no glimpse. In order to bring _Lady Anne_ into
+this collection I have had here and there to condense a few pages, but I
+have touched nothing essential: the sweet little narrative is only
+shortened, never altered. _Lady Anne_ was first published in 1823.
+
+With 'Captain Murderer,' which ends the book, we come to another story
+by a novelist, this time a man of genius, Charles Dickens. The agreeably
+gruesome trifle occurs in the essay in _The Uncommercial Traveller_ on
+'Nurses' Stories,' and it was told to the little Dickens by a dreadful
+girl named Sarah, who chilled him also with the dark history of Chips,
+the ship's carpenter, and the rat of the Devil. The story of Chips is
+better than the story of Captain Murderer, but I do not care for the
+responsibility of laying it before you. The Captain may be held to be
+forbidding enough, but he is, all the same, well within the nursery's
+traditions of acceptable villainy, being only a variant upon Bluebeard
+and the giant who fed upon bread made with the bone-flour of Englishmen;
+whereas the story of Chips introduces infernal elements and makes rats
+too horrible to be thought about. So I feel; but if anyone complains of
+the grimness of the Captain I shall have, I fear, only a very poor
+defence.
+
+                                                    E. V. L.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                                              PAGE
+
+Dicky Random; or, Good-Nature is nothing without Good
+Conduct; Anon.                                                  1
+
+The Months; Anon.                                              15
+
+Jemima Placid; or, The Advantage of Good-Nature; Anon.         23
+
+Two Trials: I. Sally Delia; Anon.                              48
+           II. Harry Lenox; Anon.                              58
+
+Prince Life; by G. P. R. James                                 72
+
+The Farm-Yard Journal; by the Aikins                           90
+
+The Fruits of Disobedience; or, The Kidnapped Child; Anon.     98
+
+The Rose's Breakfast; Anon.                                   114
+
+The Three Cakes; by Armand Berquin                            128
+
+Amendment; Anon.                                              136
+
+Scourhill's Adventures; Anon.                                 162
+
+The Journal; by Priscilla Wakefield                           172
+
+Ellen and George; or, The Game at Cricket; by A. C. Mant      181
+
+Waste Not, Want Not; or, Two Strings to Your Bow; by Maria
+Edgeworth                                                     204
+
+The Bunch of Cherries; Anon.                                  242
+
+The Fugitive; by Miss Pearson                                 256
+
+The Butcher's Tournament; by Peter Parley                     275
+
+Malleville's Night of Adventure; by Jacob Abbott              297
+
+The Life and Adventures of Lady Anne; Anon.                   320
+
+Captain Murderer; by Charles Dickens                          422
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+                                                               PAGE
+
+Off it went, knocked him backwards, and shivered a beautiful
+mirror                                                           7
+
+The lambs frisk about her                                       17
+
+Ellen went a dozen times in the day to look at her new cap      37
+
+'I was reading, and was interrupted by Henry Lenox and
+three others talking over a secret'                             65
+
+The Prince slays the monster with a hundred horrible heads      87
+
+She kicked up her hind legs and threw down the milk-pail        91
+
+Cut her beautiful hair close to her head                       103
+
+The sweet Misses Lilies of the Valley could not be tempted
+from their retreat                                             121
+
+'I will play you all the pretty tunes that I know, if you
+will give me leave'                                            133
+
+Had not the gardener, who then came up, taken him in his
+arms, and carried him into the house, in spite of his
+kicking and screaming                                          143
+
+Every boy ... joined in the pursuit, and every cottage
+poured out its matrons and children and dogs                   165
+
+George was despatched to desire one of the servants to
+bring a basket, in which we carried the poor sufferer          177
+
+Hither Ellen accompanied him to see the wickets completed      187
+
+'Oh, what an excellent motto!' exclaimed Ben                   207
+
+'The everlasting whipcord, I declare'                          239
+
+'The happiness of sharing with others that which we possess
+enhances the value of its enjoyment'                           245
+
+'There he goes!'                                               263
+
+Knights in armour tumbled over their own steeds, donkeys
+ran snorting about, ladies shrieked                            293
+
+Wherever the feather passed it changed the surface of the
+water into ice                                                 303
+
+The arrival at the inn                                         325
+
+The Flight over London Bridge                                  351
+
+Lady Anne finds her father                                     407
+
+
+
+
+Forgotten Tales of Long Ago
+
+Dicky Random
+
+or
+
+Good-nature is nothing without Good Conduct
+
+    'In festive play this maxim prize--
+    Be always merry--always WISE!'
+
+
+'Do you know what hour it is when you see a clock?' said Mr. Random to
+his little son Richard.
+
+'Yes, father,' said Richard; 'for I can count it all round. When both
+hands are at the top of the clock, then I know it is time to leave
+school.'
+
+'Then go and see what time it is,' said his father.
+
+Away ran Richard, and brought back word in a moment that it was exactly
+six o'clock.
+
+In a few minutes after came in a friend with a young lady, the former of
+whom asked Mr. Random why he was not ready to go with them to the
+concert that evening, as he had promised. Mr. Random replied that it
+was but six o'clock, which, however, he was soon convinced was a mistake
+of Richard's, who, on being asked what he saw when he looked on the
+clock, replied, 'I saw the two hands together close to the six, and that
+made me say it was six, for I always call it twelve when they are right
+opposite.'
+
+'Remember, my dear,' said his father, 'that the long hand never tells
+the hour, except on the stroke of twelve. You ought to know that the
+minute hand overtakes its fellow somewhat later every hour, till at noon
+and midnight they again start exactly even; and when a bigger boy I
+shall expect you to tell me how much difference is increased every time
+they come into conjunction. You now see, Dicky, that through such a
+mistake I must make my friends wait; pray, therefore, mind better
+another time.'
+
+In a few minutes after his father bid him go into the dining-room, and
+bring down a bottle of wine, which stood in the _hither_ corner of the
+cellaret, that he might help the gentleman and lady to a glass.
+
+'Yes, father,' said little Dick, and up he went. On the stairs he met
+puss, and stopped to play with her, during which he forgot what had been
+told him. Having gotten a bottle, downstairs he came, and, pouring out a
+couple of glasses, he returned with it. But, when on the landing-place,
+he naughtily drew out the cork to have a taste himself. It was not only
+very vulgar to drink out of the neck of a bottle, but wrong to make free
+slily with that which he was merely entrusted to serve out. However, it
+rushed so fast into his mouth, and was so hot, that he was afraid of
+being strangled. It happened that he had bitten his cheek that morning,
+and the liquor bathing the sore place made it smart so that he put down
+the bottle on the floor, when, in stamping about, it rolled downstairs
+and made a fine clatter. His father ran out on hearing the noise, but
+was stopped in the way by seeing the young lady almost gasping for
+breath, and it was some minutes before she could say that he had given
+her brandy instead of wine.
+
+Mr. Random next proceeded upstairs, where little Dick was picking up the
+pieces of broken glass, in doing which he cut a deep gash in his hand.
+
+'Where did you take the bottle from?'
+
+'Out of the _farther_ side of the cellaret,' said Dicky.
+
+'I told you to take it from the _hither_ side,' replied Mr. Random.
+'But, however, you shall smart for your neglect: what remains of the
+brandy will serve to bathe your hand, and I hope the pain will make you
+reflect that the loss is the same to me, whether you spilt it from
+design or inattention.'
+
+He one day made his mother look very simple at table, for which he
+deserved to have suffered much more than her good nature required. Young
+Random was to have a grand rout in the evening with some of his little
+favourites. A few nice tarts, custards, etc., had been made in the
+morning for the occasion, and had been most temptingly baked in the
+forenoon.
+
+It happened that two gentlemen called on Mr. Random about two o'clock,
+and he insisted upon their staying to dinner; in consequence of which
+his lady had the pastry removed from the sideboard to the china-closet.
+
+All children must frequently have heard their mothers say, when they
+wish to have anything saved for another occasion, 'My friends, you see
+your dinner before you; I hope you will consider yourselves at home and
+not spare.' This is always thought to be a sufficient excuse for not
+bringing anything of another sort to table.
+
+When the meat was nearly done with, Mrs. Random made the above remark
+to her visitors, who declared that nothing more was requisite. She then
+bid the servant put the cheese on the table.
+
+'What, mother,' said Richard, 'is there nothing else?'
+
+'No, my love,' said his mother; 'I am sure you want nothing more.'
+
+'Why, yes, mother. Where are the tarts and custards you put into the
+closet?'
+
+'Surely you dream?' said his mother.
+
+'No, I don't, indeed,' replied Dicky. 'You put them away directly the
+gentlemen said they would stay to dine, and observed what a deal of
+trouble visitors do give.'
+
+Anyone will easily believe that this made Mrs. Random look very
+confused. She hardly knew what to reply, but she turned it off in the
+best manner she could, and said:
+
+'It is you, Richard, who trouble me more than the visits of my friends.
+I am happy to see them always, but on some days more than others.
+To-day, you know, we have been preparing for _your_ company, and
+therefore the reserve I have kept would not have been made but on your
+account. The pastry was intended for _your_ visitors, and not your
+father's. However, if you are such a child that you cannot wait till
+night, they shall be brought to table now; but, remember, I will not
+order any more to be made, and you shall provide for your playmates out
+of the money put by to purchase the magic-lantern and the books.'
+
+Richard looked quite down when he heard this sentence, and more so when
+he saw the pastry placed on the table.
+
+Dear me, how soon had the tarts and custards disappeared, if one of each
+had been served round to the company! But the gentlemen were too polite
+even to taste them, and father and mother declined eating any.
+Richard's sister said she could very well wait till supper; hence they
+were all saved. But Dicky was afterwards very severely taken to task for
+speaking out of time, when he was not spoken to.
+
+When evening came, and the little visitors were assembled, Richard, who
+had seen some of the sports at a country fair, would show his dexterity
+to amuse his young party. He took up the poker, and, supposing it to be
+a pole, performed some imitations. But, unable long to preserve it
+upright from its weight, the sooty end fell on Master Snapper's book,
+who was reading a little work upon 'Affability.' The blow fairly knocked
+it out of his hand, and made a great smear on his frilled shirt, at
+which a loud laugh ensued. Now Master Snapper could not bear to be
+laughed at, and was so much out of humour all the evening that he would
+not play.
+
+Little Dick never once, all this time, thought that if it had fallen on
+his playfellow's toe, it might have lamed him, and he would at least
+have had to carry him a pick-a-back home; nor did he think who was to
+have paid the doctor; but, pleased with the mirth he had made, he went
+upstairs and fetched down one of the pistols which his father kept in a
+private drawer. Then, pulling in his rocking-horse, he fancied he was
+one of the Light Horse, and mounted it to show the sword exercise, and
+how he could shoot a Frenchman or a Turk at full gallop. He had no
+business with a rocking-horse or a pistol among young ladies, but he
+never thought if it were proper or not, and much less if the pistol were
+loaded.
+
+While he was going on a full canter, he gave the words, 'Present! fire!'
+and off it went, knocked him backwards, and shivered a beautiful mirror
+into a thousand pieces. Oh, what a sad scene of confusion ensued! Some
+of the young ladies screamed out with fright. Miss Timid, knocked down
+by Dicky in falling backwards, lay on the ground bleeding at the nose.
+Some were employed in picking up the pieces of glass, or pinning their
+handkerchiefs over the fracture, to prevent its being seen while they
+stayed; but such a hope was vain.
+
+The noise brought Mr. and Mrs. Random and all the servants upstairs, who
+too soon found out the havoc that had been made, and demanded how it
+happened. All the children would willingly have screened Dicky, because
+they knew he had not done it to frighten, but to amuse them. Master
+Snapper, however, now thinking it was his turn, in a very ill-natured
+speech made the worst of the story. But the spiteful way in which he
+spoke did little Dick no harm, as he seemed more rejoiced at his
+misfortune than sorry for Mr. Random's loss; hence it had the effect not
+to increase the latter's anger.
+
+'Playing with balancing poles and pistols,' said Mr. Random in a stern
+accent to his son, 'is very well in a proper place, but quite
+inadmissible in a room full of company. Now, sir, what business had you
+to take this pistol out of my room?'
+
+'Indeed, father,' said Dicky, crying, 'I did not know it was loaded.'
+
+'It is but last week,' continued his father, 'that you were told never
+to take such a thing without asking, and not even then till someone had
+tried if it were loaded. So many accidents have happened with firearms
+which have been supposed not to be loaded, that he who unguardedly
+shoots another ought to take a similar chance for his own life; for you
+know the Scripture says: "An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth."
+Think, Richard, that if I had been standing before the mirror, what
+would have been the consequence. You would have shot your father! Your
+mother would have died of grief, and you and Letitia have been
+orphans!'
+
+[Illustration: _Off it went, knocked him backwards, and shivered a
+beautiful mirror.--Page 5._]
+
+'Ah, then I should have died too!' said Dicky, wiping the tears from his
+eyes with the back of his hand. 'But how came you to load the pistol
+last night, father?'
+
+'Because,' replied his father, 'I thought I heard something fall in the
+parlour, and the passage-door being directly after shut to in a still
+manner. I loaded the pistols, thinking that thieves had broken into the
+house, and pushed up the sash to shoot the first that came out.'
+
+'Then it was lucky,' said Richard, 'I did not come out again, or you
+might have killed me; for I got up in the night to let Juno out of the
+shed, where I had tied her up, and she was making a sad howling. Indeed,
+before I was aware, she ran into the parlour, and, as it was quite dark,
+I tumbled over her.'
+
+'And broke the geranium-tree,' added his father.
+
+'Yes, I did indeed,' said Dicky, 'but I did not go to do it. After that
+I turned Juno into the yard, and this I dare say is all the noise you
+heard.'
+
+'There is an old saying, my dear little friends,' said Mr. Random,
+'which I wish you to attend to, because it has a great deal of truth in
+it: "_The pitcher that goes often safe to the well may come home broken
+at last._" And so, though the thoughtless and giddy may go on for a long
+while without danger, it will overtake them sooner or later. Here is a
+strong instance of escape from the consequences which might have
+attended Richard's thoughtlessness; besides which, his mother could get
+no more sleep all night, and I, after running the risk of catching cold
+in searching over the house, have this morning been at the expense of
+new fastenings to the doors and windows. The next time, however, you
+rise, Richard, to alarm the family, you shall in future roost with the
+hens or bed in the stable.'
+
+Dicky now thought that his parent's resentment had subsided, and, upon
+the latter's calling to him to come, he sprang across the room with the
+greatest alertness; but how suddenly was his smile cast down when Mr.
+Random, taking his hand, ordered him to wish his young friends much
+mirth and a good appetite, while he was going to be punished for his
+misconduct. At once were all their little hands put out to prevent Mr.
+Random's resolution of taking him away, but all their petitions were in
+vain. Richard was forced into an empty cellar, and left with no other
+companion than a glimmering rush-light. Here he was told he might do as
+much mischief as he pleased. The iron bars kept him from getting out on
+one side, and the door was padlocked on the other. In this dilemma he
+marched round and round, crying, with his little candle, and saw stuck
+on the walls the following lines:
+
+    '_Empty caves and commons wild
+    Best befit a thoughtless child,
+    A solid wall, an earthen floor,
+    Prison lights, a padlock'd door,
+    Where's no plaything which he may
+    Turn to harm by random play,
+    For in such sport too oft is found
+    A penny-toy will cost a pound.
+    Be wise and merry;--play, but think;
+    For danger stands on folly's brink._'
+
+After having been kept in confinement nearly half an hour, Mr. Random
+could no longer resist the pressing solicitations of his son's guests,
+who declined partaking of the supper till Richard was returned to them.
+
+Having learned the above lines by heart, he repeated them to his young
+company, and, on his promising to remember their contents, he was
+permitted to sit down to table.
+
+The rest of the evening was spent in innocent cheerfulness, and for some
+time after little Random played with more caution.
+
+We must omit many of the less important neglects of young Random, such
+as letting the toast fall in handling it, shooting his arrow through the
+window, riding a long stick where it might throw persons down, leaving
+things in the way at dark, etc., and proceed to relate a good-natured
+fancy of his which tended, more than any of the preceding events, to
+show him the folly of taking any step without first looking to what it
+might lead.
+
+In Mr. Random's garden was a fine tall pear tree, and that year a very
+fine pear grew on the topmost twig. His mother and sister had several
+times wished for the luscious fruit, but it seemed to bid defiance to
+every attack that was not aided by a tall ladder. 'Oh!' thought Dicky,
+'if I can get it down and present it to my mother, how pleased she will
+be!' So, when he was alone, he picked out some large stones and threw at
+it, but without any success. The next day he renewed his attack in the
+evening, and to insure a better chance employed several large pieces of
+brick and tile.
+
+Now all these dangerous weapons went over into a poor man's garden,
+where his son and some other boys were weeding it. One of them fell upon
+the little fellow's leg, and cut it in so desperate a manner that he
+cried out, quite terrified at the blow and sight of the blood. The other
+boys directly took the alarm, and picking up some stones as large as
+that which had done the mischief, they mounted on a high bench, and
+discharged such a well-directed volley at the person of Master Random
+that he was most violently struck upon the nose, and knocked backwards
+into a glass cucumber-frame.
+
+Here he lay in a most pitiable condition, calling upon his mother, while
+the wounded boy on the other side joined in the concert of woe.
+
+'Oh, it served you rightly!' exclaimed the young assailants, who were
+looking over the wall, and ran away as soon as they saw Mr. Random come
+into the garden to inquire the cause of the uproar.
+
+His first concern was to carry Dicky indoors, and then, having wiped
+away the blood and tears, he asked him how it happened.
+
+'I was only trying to get a pear for my mother,' said Richard, 'when
+these boys threw stones at me, and hit me!'
+
+'That was very cruel,' said his father, 'to meddle with you when you
+were doing nothing to them, and if I can find them out they shall be
+punished for it.'
+
+Mr. Random immediately set off to the next house, but was met at his own
+door by the father of the wounded boy, who was coming with him in his
+arms to demand satisfaction. This brought the whole truth out, and the
+artful little fellow was found to have concealed a part of the real
+case. Instead of saying 'he was only getting a pear,' he should have
+said that he was throwing large stones at the topmost pear on the tree,
+and that every stone went over the wall, he could not tell where.
+
+'Ah, Richard,' said his father, 'it is little better than story-telling
+to conceal a part of the truth. The affair now wears quite a new face.
+It was you that gave the first assault, and will have to answer for all
+the bad consequences. It is my duty to see that this unoffending boy is
+taken care of; but if his leg be so cut or bruised that he cannot get so
+good a living when he comes to be a man as he might otherwise have
+done, how would you like to make up the deficiency? You cannot doubt
+that he has a demand upon you equal to the damage you may have done to
+him. He is poor, and his father must send him to the hospital, but it
+would be unjust of me to suffer it. No, on the contrary, I shall prevent
+this by taking him home and sending you there, where Dr. Hardheart makes
+his patients smart before he cures them. Come, get ready to go, for
+delays in wounds of the head are not to be trifled with.'
+
+Mr. Random then ordered the servant to go for a coach, in which Dicky
+most certainly would have been sent off had not word been brought back
+that there was not a coach on the stand. During this time Dicky had
+fallen on his knees, entreating that he might remain at home, and
+offering promises to be less heedless in future; nay, he was willing to
+yield up all his toys to the maimed little gardener.
+
+The boy's father, though but a labouring man, had a generous mind; he
+wanted nothing of this kind, but only wished him to be more cautious in
+future, as the same stones, thrown at random, might have either blinded
+his son or fractured his skull, instead of merely hurting his leg. Mr.
+Random then insisted on Richard's giving him half-a-crown, and asking
+pardon for the misfortune occasioned by his carelessness.
+
+This heavy sum was directly taken out of the hoard which had been laid
+by for the purchase of a set of drawing instruments, but he had a yet
+heavier account to settle with his father for damaging the
+cucumber-frame. He had broken as much of it as would come to fifteen
+shillings to mend, and as payment was insisted on, or close confinement
+until the whole was settled, he was compelled to transfer to his father
+all his receipts for the ensuing five months before he could again
+resume his scheme of laying by an adequate sum to purchase the drawing
+utensils. Independently of which he always carried a strong memorial of
+his folly on his nose, which was so scarred that he endured many a joke,
+as it were, to keep alive in his memory the effect of his folly. Indeed,
+he never looked in the glass without seeing his reproach in his face,
+and thus at length learned never to play without first thinking if it
+were at a proper time and in a proper place.
+
+
+
+
+The Months
+
+
+Who is this, clad in russet-brown? His distant step sounds hollow on the
+frozen ground; no beam of beauty is on his face, but his look is
+healthy, and his step is firm. As he approaches the peasant bars his
+door and renews his fire. The sparkling home-brewed goes round and
+mantles in the foaming jug, the oft-repeated tale is told, the rain
+patters against the casement, but the night passes away, and the storm
+is no longer heard.
+
+Bright in his career the sun arises. Millions of gems seem suspended
+from the leafless branches. The familiar robin and the bolder sparrow
+seek the abode of man. Swift fly the balls of snow; the ruddy youth
+binds on his skates and gracefully flies over the frozen pool.
+
+Who is this stranger? He is the first-born of his family, and his name
+is JANUARY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A grave and placid maiden now advances. The crocus and the snow-drop
+adorn her brown garments, a wreath of primroses binds her brows, the
+robin, perched on the leafless branch, welcomes her approach, and the
+lovely green of the young wheat is spread over the lately barren
+fields. The lambs frisk about her, they nibble the grass of the valley,
+then suddenly start and bound up the shelving mountain. But their infant
+coats are now wet with rain, and their sports are over. Shivering, they
+follow the shepherd with their bleating dams. And now, adorned with
+rustic lays and bleeding hearts, the swain sends to his favourite maid
+the mysterious valentine. The birds choose their mates; it is the season
+of connubial joys. Mild then be thy reign, gentle FEBRUARY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Who is this froward youth, with his loud and boisterous voice? He comes
+from the east; limping rheumatism and shivering ague are in his train;
+but his face is now dressed in smiles. The birds begin their lays, the
+lambs again frolic around. The daisy and the violet grow beneath his
+feet; he dresses himself with the buds of the spring. Vegetation
+displays her lovely green, and holds out the promise of future riches.
+Again the tempest of his passions arise; he tears the chaplet from his
+brows, and scatters it in the wind. Oh! hasten far away from us,
+variable and boisterous MARCH.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Clad in a robe of light green, and decorated with lilies of the valley,
+a lovely maid advances. She breathes on the opening flowers, and their
+beauty is expanded. The leaves of the grove burst forth, and the hedges
+exhibit their partial verdure. Nature, invigorated, smiles around her;
+but she weeps, and her flowerets bend, drooping, to the earth. Mild is
+her mien, and the tint of modesty is on her cheek. She smiles, whilst
+the tear still trembles in her eye, like placid resignation bending over
+the tomb of a departed friend. She is a pensive maiden, and her name is
+APRIL.
+
+[Illustration: '_The lambs frisk about her.'--Page 16._]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Hark to the sound of rustic mirth, which precede a cheerful youth! His
+step is light and airy, his robe is of many colours, roses adorn his
+flowing ringlets, health and pleasure float on the freshening gale,
+exercise and mirth gambol before him, age forgets his troubles, quits
+his arm-chair, and welcomes his approach. The maids of the hamlet
+assemble and dance round the pole, decked with many a flower and many a
+streaming pendant. The village lovers loiter at the stile, or wander
+down the retired lane, where the hedges are covered with their white
+blossoms, and the modest wild rose, emblem of the blushing maid, peeps
+from the sheltering thorn. Season of love and delight! long may thy
+reign be protracted, young and beauteous MAY!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Who is the maid now approaching? She arises when the lark first pours
+his melody in air. Her dress is of a darker green, her head is adorned
+with full-blown flowers, her face is tanned by labour. The bleating and
+affrighted sheep are plunged, unwillingly, into the pool, and now by the
+sturdy hand stripped of their fleecy coats. The bottle quickly passes,
+the simple tale goes round, the ballad purchased at the fair is sung;
+the mower whets his scythe, and the grass and the wild-flowers fall
+before it; the waggon, heavily laden, removes the odoriferous hay; and
+the neat-mown fields display a brighter green. The cuckoo, with his
+never-varying note is heard; but let us, when the day is over, placed in
+some secluded nook, listen to the sweeter nightingale, who, as poets
+feign, was once a hapless female. Industry now toils through the
+lengthened day, and the name of this sun-burnt maiden is JUNE.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Who is the youth that now advances in his robe of gauze? He comes when
+the rosy morn first trembles in the east. Slow and languid is his step;
+he seeks the damp cavern and the impervious shade. It is the heat of
+noon, and the kine no longer low. Not a breeze stirs: the foliage of the
+groves, all--is still, except the insect world, who dimple the stream,
+or, buzzing round the head of the sleeping youth, rouses the panting dog
+that lies at his side.
+
+Now the terrified birds dart swiftly through the air; a solemn and
+portentous stillness reigns; the thunder mutters, the lightnings flash,
+and the pouring storm approaches; the traveller seeks the sheltering
+cottage. But when the sun again returns in his glory, the birds plume
+their dripping feathers; the gardener ties up his fallen roses, and
+trails anew the gadding woodbine. How sweetly refreshing is the air; we
+will wander over the breezy hill; we will pluck the summer fruits; and
+still welcome shalt thou be to us, sultry JULY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Who is she, who, with the first blush of Aurora, brushes the pearly dew
+from the grass? Her robe is thin and airy, and on her head is a garland
+of wheat-ears and poppies. How busy is the scene around her! The shining
+scythe cuts down the bearded barley and the quivering oat; the reaper
+bends over the golden wheat, and fills the plenteous sheaf.
+
+All are employed: even old age and childhood bend, with prying eyes, to
+glean the scattered ears. The master looks on his riches, and swells
+with satisfaction; the busy housewife loads the hospitable board, and
+hands the mantling ale around; age tells the tale of past times; and the
+loud laugh and rustic song burst from the lips of jocund youth. Oh! ever
+thus return to us, with plenty in thy train, mirth-inspiring AUGUST.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Who is the youth that, at early dawn, brushes the stubble with his feet?
+His gun is on his arm. His well-taught dogs are with him. The harmony of
+the groves is destroyed, and the feathered race fall before his cruel
+hand. The timid hare, starting at the sound of early feet, flies from
+the furzy brake, and she returns to her shelter no more. Content
+thyself, youth, with the various fruits which Nature now bestows. The
+golden apricot, the downy peach, and the blooming plum, peep from
+beneath their green foliage. Feast on these gifts, but spare the
+feathered race, sanguinary SEPTEMBER.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Who now comes, with the steady air of a matron? Her robe is of yellow,
+tinged with brown; and a wreath of berries encircles her head. She fills
+her barns; and the flail, with monotonous sound, is heard. Labour
+blesses her as he turns the earth with his plough, and scatters, with a
+seemingly careless hand, the seeds of future harvests. She shakes the
+clustering nuts from the trees, and gathers the rosy produce of the
+orchard, where the apple and the mellow pear yield their refreshing
+juice.
+
+The poet wanders through the silent grove; the mournful breeze wafts the
+withered leaves around him; the huntsman winds his horn; exercise bounds
+over the plain; the sportsman rejoices in the barren fields. Season that
+I love, ever welcome shalt thou be to me, mild and pensive OCTOBER.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+What terrific form is this? Sullen and haggard is his face; his ragged
+garments float in the blast; a wreath of yew binds his head; thick fogs
+arise around him; he tears from the groves the last leaves of autumn;
+disease attends his baneful steps; he drinks at the stagnant pool; he
+throws himself on the beetling rock; he courts the foaming billows; he
+listens to the last groans of the shipwrecked mariner; he wanders
+through the churchyard; he seeks the abode of the raven, and horror is
+in all his thoughts. Oh, hasten far away from us, gloomy NOVEMBER.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Who is this clad in flannel and warm furs? He wraps his garments close
+about him; a wreath of holly binds his bald head; he seeks the warm
+hearth and the blazing fire; he expands his hands: they are thin and
+shrivelled with age. The snow fast descends; the sweeping blast howls
+over the dreary heath, and shakes the cottage of the aged man--he is the
+father of the year, and his name is DECEMBER.
+
+
+
+
+Jemima Placid
+
+or
+
+The Advantage of Good Nature
+
+
+Mr. Placid was a clergyman of distinguished merit, and had been for many
+years the vicar of Smiledale. The situation of the parsonage was truly
+beautiful, but the income of the living was not very considerable; so,
+as the old gentleman had two sons with the young Jemima to provide for,
+it was necessary to be rather frugal in his expenses. Mrs. Placid was
+remarkably handsome in her youth, but the beauty of her person was much
+impaired by a continued state of ill-health, which she supported with
+such a degree of cheerful fortitude as did honour to human nature. As
+she had had the advantage of a liberal education, and had been always
+accustomed to genteel company, her conversation was uncommonly
+agreeable; and her daughter derived from her instructions those engaging
+qualities which are the most valuable endowments a parent can bestow.
+The eldest son, whose name was Charles, was about three years, and
+William, the youngest, near a year and a half older than his sister.
+Their dispositions were not in all respects so gentle as hers; yet, on
+the whole, they formed the most agreeable family.
+
+When Jemima was about six years old, her mother's health rendered it
+necessary that she should take a journey to Bristol; and it being out of
+her power to have Jemima with her, she left her with an aunt, whose name
+was Finer, and who had two daughters a few years older than their
+cousin. Miss Placid, who had never before been separated from her
+mother, was severely hurt at the thought of leaving home; but as she was
+told it was absolutely necessary, she restrained her tears, from fear of
+increasing the uneasiness which her mother experienced.
+
+At last the day arrived when her uncle (whom I before forgot to mention)
+and his wife came to dinner at Smiledale, with an intention of
+conducting Jemima back with them. She was in her father's study at the
+time they alighted, and could not help weeping at the idea of quitting
+her friends; and throwing her arms around her brother William's neck,
+silently sobbed forth that grief she wanted power to restrain. The poor
+boy, who loved his sister with great tenderness, was nearly as much
+agitated as herself, and could only, with affectionate kisses, every now
+and then exclaim:
+
+'Do not cry so, Jemima. Pray, do not! We shall soon meet again, my love.
+Pray, do not cry!'
+
+When she had relieved her little heart with this indulgence of her
+sorrow, she wiped her eyes, and walked slowly upstairs to have her frock
+put on.
+
+'So your aunt is come, miss?' said Peggy, as she put down the basin on
+the table to wash her hands.
+
+Poor Jemima was silent.
+
+'I am sorry we are going to lose you, my dear,' added she, as she wiped
+the towel over her forehead.
+
+Peggy's hand held back her head, and at the same time supported her
+chin, so that her face was confined and exposed to observation. She
+wanted to hide her tears, but she could not; so at last, hastily
+covering herself with the maid's apron, and putting her two hands round
+her waist, she renewed the sorrow which she had so lately suppressed.
+
+Peggy was very fond of her young lady, as indeed was every servant in
+the house; but there was a good woman, who went in the family by the
+name of Nurse, for whom Jemima had a still greater attachment. She had
+attended Mrs. Placid before her marriage, had nursed all her children
+from their births, and Jemima was the darling of her heart. As she
+entered the room at this time, she took the weeping girl into her lap,
+and wept herself at the reflection that it was the first time in her
+life she had slept without her.
+
+'And so pray, my dear,' said she, 'take care of yourself; and when you
+go to bed, mind that they pin your night-cap close at the top, otherwise
+you will get cold; and do not forget to have your linen well aired; for
+otherwise it is very dangerous, love; and many a person, by such
+neglect, has caught a cold which has terminated in a fever. Sweet child!
+I do not like to trust it from me,' added she, hugging her still closer,
+and smothering her face in a check cotton handkerchief which she wore on
+her neck.
+
+Jemima promised an observance of her injunctions, and being now dressed,
+attended a summons from her mother, who was alone in her chamber, the
+company having left her to walk in the garden, whither she was unable to
+accompany them.
+
+'I see, my dear girl,' said she, holding out her hand as she sat in an
+easy-chair by the window--'I see that you are sorry to leave me; and,
+indeed, Jemima, I am much grieved that such a separation is necessary;
+but I hope I shall be better when I return, and I am sure you would wish
+me to be quite well. I hope, therefore, that you will be a good child
+while you stay with your uncle and aunt, and not give more trouble than
+you cannot avoid.'
+
+Miss Placid assured her mother of her obedience, and her firm resolution
+to mind all her admonitions. Mr. Finer returning at this period,
+interrupted any further discourse, only Mrs. Placid affectionately
+pressed her hand, and, after giving her a kiss, Jemima sat down on a
+little stool by her side.
+
+When the hour of her departure was nearly arrived, she retired into the
+garden to take leave of her brothers, and went round with them to all
+the different places she had been accustomed to play in. They visited
+together the poultry-yard, and Jemima fed her bantams before she left
+them, bidding them all adieu, and looking behind her for the last time
+as she shut the gate. They then walked round by some walnut-trees, where
+a seat had been put up for them to sit in the shade.
+
+'I wish you were not going,' said Charles; 'for I put this box and drove
+in these nails on purpose for you to hang up your doll's clothes, and
+now they will be of no farther use to us.'
+
+'I wish so too,' replied his sister; 'but I cannot help it.'
+
+'Well, do not cry,' added William; 'but come this way by the brewhouse,
+and bid my rabbits good-bye, and take this piece of lettuce in your hand
+to feed the old doe, and here is some parsley for the young ones. We
+shall have some more before you come back, and I will send you word if I
+can how many there be.'
+
+'And, Jemima,' said Charles, 'I wish I were going with you to London,
+for I should like to see it; it is such a large place, a great deal
+bigger than any villages which we have seen, and they say, the houses
+stand close together for a great way, and there are no fields or trees,
+and the houses have no gardens to them. But then there is a great number
+of shops, and you might perhaps get a collar for Hector. Do pray try,
+Jemima, and buy him one, and have his name put upon it, and that he
+belongs to the Rev. Mr. Placid of Smiledale, for then, in case we should
+lose him, folk would know where to return him.'
+
+'And would it not be better to have a bell,' said William, 'as the sheep
+have? I like a bell very much; it would make such a nice noise about the
+house; and then we should always know where he was when we were reading,
+as my father will not let us look after him. What else do we want her to
+buy, Charles? Cannot you write a list?'
+
+'That will be the best way,' replied he, taking out his pencil, and,
+very ungracefully, to be sure, he put the point of it to his mouth two
+or three times before it would write. And then, having but a small scrap
+of paper, he despatched his brother, as the shortest way, to fetch a
+slate, and he would transcribe it afterwards with a pen and ink, for he
+had, in endeavouring to cut a new point to his pencil, broken it off so
+frequently that the lead was all wasted, and nothing remained except the
+wood. William soon returned with the slate under his arm. Charles took
+it from him, and then went to work to prepare a bill of necessary
+things, which his sister was to purchase in London. He leaned so hard,
+and scratched in such a manner as, had any grown people been of the
+party, would have set their teeth on edge (a sensation, I believe, with
+which children are unacquainted, for they never seem to notice it at
+all).
+
+'First then,' said he, 'I am to mention a collar for Hector, with his
+name and place of abode; and I should like very much to have some Indian
+glue to mend our playthings, such as father uses, and which we cannot
+get here, you know.'
+
+William assented, and Jemima was as attentive as if she had to remember
+all the things he was writing without the assistance of his list. They
+sat some time in silence to recollect the other necessary commissions
+when she reminded them that a new pencil would be a useful article, but
+Charles said his father would supply that want, and there was no need to
+spend his own money for things he could have without any expense, but if
+anyhow he could get a gun with a touch-hole he should be quite happy.
+
+'No, you would not,' returned William, 'for then, Charles, you would
+want gunpowder, which you never could have, and if you had, might never
+use it.'
+
+'To be sure, that is true. I have long wished for it; but, as you say, I
+will be contented without it, so do not concern yourself about that, and
+I need not set it down.'
+
+I shall not trouble you with the rest of the consultation on this
+important subject, but transcribe the list itself, which, with the
+account of the preceding conversation, I received from a young lady who
+frequently spent some months with Mrs. Placid, and to whose kindness I
+am indebted for many of the various incidents which compose this
+history.
+
+     A LIST OF THINGS JEMIMA IS TO BRING FROM LONDON.
+
+     _A collar for Hector; Indian glue; some little pictures to make
+     a show; a pair of skates, as we shall like skating better than
+     sliding; a large coach-whip for Charles, because John will not
+     lend us his; and some little books which we can understand,
+     and which mother told Mrs. West may be bought somewhere in
+     London, but Jemima must inquire about it._
+
+Such were the orders which Miss Placid received from her brothers on her
+first journey to the Metropolis. They then attended her to bid adieu to
+her canary-bird, which she very tenderly committed to their care, and
+desired they would feed it every day, and give it water in her absence,
+and mind to turn the glass the right way, otherwise the poor thing might
+be starved. While she was taking her leave of little Dick, who hung in
+the hall by the window, her cat came purring to her and rubbed its head
+against her frock and pushed against her feet, then lay down on one
+side, and while Jemima stroked it with her hand, she licked her fingers,
+and at last jumped up into the window-seat to be still nearer to its
+mistress, who, taking it into her arms, particularly desired her
+brothers to give puss some of their milk every morning, and to save some
+bits of meat at dinner to carry to it. 'For, my pussy,' added she, 'I am
+quite sorry to leave you.'
+
+Another affair remained, which was to put away all her playthings; but
+this she had deferred so long that the carriage was ready before she had
+concluded, so with that, likewise, she was obliged to entrust her
+brothers. And, looking round her with a heavy heart upon every object
+she had been accustomed to, she quitted the room with regret, and after
+receiving the affectionate kisses of the whole family her father lifted
+her into the carriage, and, the tears running down her cheeks, she
+looked out of the window as long as the house was in sight and her
+brothers continued to stand at the gate, till the road to London turning
+into a contrary direction they could no longer see each other. She
+then, with a melancholy countenance, watched the fields and lanes she
+passed by, till at last, quite fatigued, she sat down, and soon after
+fell asleep.
+
+When they stopped at the inn where they intended to rest that night, she
+was so much fatigued, having been up very early, that she did not wake
+till she was nearly undressed, when, finding herself in a house where
+she had never before been, she looked about, but was too good to fret at
+such a circumstance, though she wished to be at home again. The next
+morning they renewed their journey, and in two days arrived at Mr.
+Piner's house about eight o'clock in the evening.
+
+Jemima, who had not seen her cousins since she was two years old, had
+entirely forgotten them, and, as they expected to find her as much a
+baby as at their last interview, they appeared like entire strangers to
+each other. They welcomed their father and mother, and looked at Miss
+Placid with silent amazement; both parties, indeed, said the civil
+things they were desired, such as 'How do you do, cousin?' rather in a
+low and drawling tone of voice; and Miss Sally, who was eight years old,
+turned her head on one side and hung on her father's arm, though he
+tried to shake her off, and desired her to welcome Miss Placid to
+London, and to say she was glad to see her, to inquire after her father,
+mother, and brothers, and, in short, to behave politely, and receive her
+in a becoming manner. To do this, however, Mr. Piner found was
+impossible, as his daughters were not at any time distinguished by the
+graces, and were always particularly awkward from their shyness at a
+first introduction.
+
+Our young traveller became by the next morning very sociable with her
+cousins, and complied with their customs with that cheerful obligingness
+which has always so much distinguished her character. She was much
+surprised at the bustle which she saw in the street, and the number of
+carriages so agreeably engaged her attention that it was with reluctance
+she quitted her seat on a red trunk by the window to enjoy the plays in
+which her cousins were solicitous to engage her. Mrs. Finer had been for
+some time engaged to dine with a lady of her acquaintance, where she
+could not conveniently take either of her children, and they both
+fretted and pined at the disappointment so as to render themselves
+uncomfortable and lose the pleasure of a holiday, which their mother had
+allowed them in consequence of their cousin's arrival. Miss Ellen, the
+eldest, was continually teasing to know the reason why she might not go,
+though she had repeatedly been told it was inconvenient; and Jemima
+beheld with astonishment two girls, so much older than herself, presume
+to argue with their mother about the propriety of her commands, when
+their duty should have been quiet submission. When her aunt was gone she
+took all the pains in her power to engage them to be good-humoured,
+presented them with their toys, and carried to them their dolls; but
+they sullenly replied to all her endeavours they did not want them, and
+told her not to plague them so, for they had seen them all a hundred
+times. At last Sally, taking up a little tin fireplace which belonged to
+her sister, Miss Ellen snatched it from her, and said she should not
+have it. Sally caught it back again, and they struggled for it with such
+passion as to be entirely careless of the mischief they might do each
+other.
+
+Poor Jemima, who had never disagreed with her brothers nor been witness
+to such a scene in her life, was terrified to see them engage with a
+degree of violence which threatened them with essential hurt. She
+endeavoured to appease their fury, and ventured, after she had stood
+still for some time between two chairs, to try if, by catching hold of
+one of their hands, she could be able to part them, but they only gave
+her some blows, and said she had no business in their quarrel. She then
+retired to the farther part of the room, and ardently wished herself at
+home. When spying another fireplace under the table, she took it up with
+good-natured transport, and running to Miss Finer, told her there was
+one for her, which she hoped would put an end to the dispute. This,
+however, proved to be the property of Miss Sally, who declared, in her
+turn, that her sister should not touch any of her playthings; and
+finding she was not strong enough to retain it, she threw it with all
+her force to the other end of the room, and unfortunately hit Miss
+Placid a blow with one of the sharp corners, just above her temple. This
+at once put an end to the battle, for the blood immediately trickled
+down her cheek, and alarmed the two sisters, who, forgetting the subject
+of the debate, began to be uneasy at the effects of it; only Ellen, who
+considered herself as more innocent (merely because she had not been the
+immediate cause of the accident), with a recriminating air, said:
+
+'There, miss, you have done it now! You have killed your cousin, I
+believe!'
+
+Jemima, though in a great deal of pain, and much frightened, did not
+cry; as she seldom shed tears, unless from sensibility, or at parting
+with her friends. She held her handkerchief to the place, and became
+more alarmed in proportion as she saw it covered with blood, till at
+last, finding it was beyond their art to stop the effusion, Ellen, with
+trembling steps, went upstairs to tell the servant of their misfortune.
+Dinah, which was the maid's name, had been so often accustomed to find
+her young ladies in mischief, that she did not descend in very good
+humour, and upon her entrance exclaimed that they were all the
+naughtiest girls in the world, without inquiring how the accident
+happened, or making any exception to the innocence of Jemima, who could
+only again most sincerely wish to be once more at Smiledale with her
+mother. Dinah, after washing her temple with vinegar, which made it
+smart very much (though she did not complain), told them they had been
+so naughty that they should not go to play any more, nor would she hear
+Miss Placid's justification, but crossly interrupted her by saying:
+
+'Hold your tongue, child! and do not want to get into mischief again;
+for my mistress will make a fine piece of work, I suppose, about what
+you have done already.'
+
+Jemima was too much awed by the ill-nature of her looks and the anger of
+her expressions to vindicate her conduct any further, but quietly
+sitting down, she comforted herself with the reflection that her
+displeasure was undeserved, and that to fret at what she could not avoid
+would not make her more happy, and therefore, with great good humour,
+took up a bit of paper which contained the rough drawing of a little
+horse which Charles had given her on the day of her departure, and which
+she had since carefully preserved.
+
+In justice to Mrs. Dinah I must here observe that she was not naturally
+ill-natured, but the Misses Piner were so frequently naughty as to give
+her a great deal of trouble, and tire out her patience; and their
+mother, by not taking the proper methods to subdue the errors of their
+dispositions, had made them so refractory that it soured her own temper,
+and occasioned her to blame her servants for the consequence of those
+faults which it was her duty to have prevented. So you see, my dear
+Eliza, from such instances, how mistaken is that indulgence which, by
+gratifying the humours of children, will make them impatient and
+vindictive, unhappy in themselves, and a trouble to everyone with whom
+they are connected. The amiable Jemima was always contented and
+good-humoured, even when she was not in a state agreeable to her wishes,
+and, by learning to submit to what she did not like, when it could not
+be altered, she obtained the love of everybody who knew her, and passed
+through life with less trouble than people usually experience; for, by
+making it a rule to comply with her situation, she always enjoyed the
+comforts it afforded, and suffered as little as possible from its
+inconvenience In the present case her cousins, by their ill-temper and
+fretfulness, had quarrelled with each other; and when Dinah would not
+let them play--as, indeed, they justly deserved to be punished--they did
+nothing but grumble and cry the whole day, and were so conscious of
+their bad behaviour as to be afraid of seeing their mother; while Miss
+Placid, serene in her own innocence, entertained herself for some time
+with looking at the horse above mentioned, and afterwards with pricking
+it, till Dinah set her at liberty, which, seeing her good temper, she
+soon did, and gave her besides some pretty pictures to look at and some
+fruit to eat, of all which her cousins were deprived. By the next
+morning Jemima's temple had turned black, and Mrs. Piner inquired how
+she had hurt herself. She coloured at the question with some confusion,
+not willing to inform her aunt of anything to Miss Sally's disadvantage,
+but, as she was too honest to say anything but the truth, she begged
+Mrs. Finer would not be angry if she informed her, which she, having
+promised, Jemima told her, adding that her cousin had no intention to
+hurt her.
+
+Mrs. Piner kissed and commended Jemima very much, and Dinah having
+likewise given a high account of her goodness, she told her daughters
+she was much displeased with them, but in consequence of their cousin's
+intercession would not punish them that time, and desired them for the
+future to imitate her example.
+
+As soon as breakfast was over they were dismissed to school, while
+Jemima remained with her aunt, who, after having heard her read, gave
+her a handkerchief to hem, which she sat down by her to do, and when she
+had done work very prettily, entered into conversation.
+
+'I should be much obliged to you, madam,' said she, 'as I do not know my
+way about London, if you would go with me to buy some things for my
+brothers, which I promised to carry back when I return. I have got some
+money to pay for them, for Charles gave me a sixpence, and three
+halfpence, and a farthing; and William gave me threepence; and I have
+got a silver penny and a twopence of my own, all screwed safely in a
+little red box.'
+
+Mrs. Piner inquired what the articles were which she wished to purchase,
+and smiled on perusing the list which Charles had written.
+
+'And pray, my dear,' said she, 'how do you intend to carry the
+coach-whip, for you will not be able conveniently to pack it up? And as
+to the skates, I do not think your father would choose your brothers
+should make use of them till they are much older, as they are very
+dangerous, and particularly so to little boys. The other things I will
+endeavour to procure, and you shall take a walk with me to buy the books
+and choose them yourself, and I will pay for them; so you may save your
+money in the little box, for you are a very good girl, and therefore
+deserve to be encouraged.'
+
+Jemima thanked her aunt for her kind intentions, and said if she could
+get a coach-whip, she thought she could carry it to Smiledale in her
+hand; and as her brothers were always kind to her, she wished to do
+everything in her power to oblige them.
+
+The next day was to be a holiday at her cousins' school, on account of
+their dancing-master's ball, to which the Misses Piner were invited; and
+Mrs. Piner had promised Jemima she should be of the party. They rose in
+the morning with the pleasing hopes of enjoying a dance in the evening;
+and Ellen went a dozen times in the day to look at her new cap, wishing
+it was time to put it on (for she was a silly, vain girl), and was so
+foolish as to imagine herself of more consequence, because she was
+better dressed than other children.
+
+'Oh, Miss Placid,' said she, 'you will look so dowdy to-night in your
+plain muslin frock, while all the rest of the ladies will wear either
+gauze frocks or silk coats full trimmed. Have you seen how handsome our
+dresses will be? Do, pray, look at them,' added she, opening the drawer
+and extending the silk, and then, glad of an excuse to survey it, she
+went to a box, and, taking out her cap, held it on her hand, turning it
+round and round with a degree of pride and pleasure which was very
+silly.
+
+Jemima good-naturedly admired her cousin's finery without wishing for
+any addition to her own.
+
+'I am sure,' replied she, 'my mother has provided what is proper for me,
+and is so kind as to afford me everything necessary; and my frocks are
+always clean, and will do extremely well for the present occasion, or
+else my aunt would have bought me another.'
+
+'But should not you like such a cap?' said Miss Ellen, putting it on
+Jemima's head. 'You look very pretty in it indeed.'
+
+[Illustration: _Ellen went a dozen times in the day to look at hey new
+cap.--Page 36._]
+
+'No; I think it is too large for me,' returned Miss Placid; 'and there
+is a piece of wire in it which scratches when you press it down. You
+should alter that, or it will be very uncomfortable.'
+
+In short, the ball was the only subject of conversation during the whole
+day; and although Miss Piner felt an uncommon headache and sickness, yet
+she would not complain, for fear her mother should think proper to leave
+her at home. The pain, however, increased greatly, and she frequently
+left the parlour to give vent to her complaints and avoid her mother's
+notice. The heaviness of her eyes and alternate change of countenance
+from pale to red, at last took Mrs. Piner's attention, and she tenderly
+inquired after her health; but Ellen affected to treat her indisposition
+as a trifle, though, as she was by no means patient in general, she
+would at any other time have made incessant complaints. She attempted to
+laugh and play, but to no purpose, for her illness became too violent to
+be suppressed. However, upon her father's hinting at dinner that she
+seemed to have no appetite, and had better, if not well, go to bed, she
+forced herself, against her inclination, to eat some meat and pudding,
+and went up afterwards to conceal her uneasiness, and put on her
+clothes, thinking that if she was in readiness it would be an additional
+reason for her going. But, alas! so foolish is vanity, and so
+insignificant are outward ornaments, that when Miss Ellen was decked out
+in the gauze frock which had so long engaged her thoughts, she felt such
+a degree of uneasiness from her sickness as to make her disregard what
+she had before wished for with such ill-placed ardour.
+
+Having eaten more than was proper for her stomach in such a disordered
+state, it increased her illness very much; but being determined to go,
+though her mother advised her to the contrary, and pretending she was
+somewhat better, she stepped into the coach, the motion of which soon
+produced a most terrible catastrophe; and before she could speak for
+assistance, occasioned such a violent sickness as totally spoiled her
+own and her cousin's clothes, who sat opposite to her; nor did Sally's
+quite escape the disaster, for as she had spread them over Jemima, with
+an intent to display their beauties, they shared in part that calamity
+which had so unfortunately overtaken the others.
+
+Mrs. Piner, though she was grieved at her daughter's indisposition, was
+likewise extremely angry at the consequence of her obstinacy.
+
+'If you had stayed at home, as I bade you,' said she, somewhat angrily,
+'nothing of this would have happened,' and, pulling the check-string,
+added, 'we must turn about, coachman, for we cannot proceed in this
+condition.'
+
+Sally, notwithstanding her sister's illness, continually teased her
+mother to know whether they should go when Ellen was set down and her
+own dress wiped, without attending to her sister's complaints. When the
+carriage reached Mr. Piner's, he came himself hastily to the door to
+know what accident had occasioned their unexpected return, and upon
+being informed, lifted poor Ellen into the house, while her sister
+declared she would not walk indoors, as she wanted to go to the ball.
+Dinah was, however, called down, and with much resistance conveyed the
+young lady crying and kicking upstairs.
+
+Jemima stood by unnoticed in the general confusion, and Miss Piner was
+undressed with the utmost expedition, and sincerely rejoiced to be rid
+of the encumbrance of that finery which in another situation would have
+excited her envy. Our little heroine, whose sense as well as serenity
+was uncommon, reflected that gay clothes must, certainly in themselves
+be of little value, since they could not prevent the approach of
+disease, or suspend for a moment the attacks of pain; that the pleasure
+they bestowed, as it was ill-founded, was likewise extremely transient,
+as Sally's passion on her disappointment was sufficient to prove, since
+she was now mortified in proportion as she had before been elated. And
+though her sister's reflections were for the present suspended by the
+violence of pain, yet her vexation, when she was restored to the ability
+of contemplating the state of her clothes, would be equally poignant and
+without remedy.
+
+While Miss Placid, in obedience to her aunt, took off the frock which
+had suffered so much in its short journey, Sally sat screaming and
+crying in an easy-chair, into which she had thrown herself, declaring
+she would go, and pushed Dinah away as often as she attempted to take
+out a pin. Nor would she be pacified by any endeavours which were used
+to please and amuse her, till her mother, quite tired with her noise and
+ill-humour, declared she would send word to her governess the next
+morning if she did not do what she was desired; upon which threat she
+submitted to be undressed, but petulantly threw every article of her
+attire upon the ground, and afterwards sat down in one of the windows in
+sullen silence, without deigning an answer to any question that was
+proposed to her. Jemima was as much disappointed as her cousin could be,
+and had formed very high expectations of the pleasure she should receive
+at the ball; but she had been always accustomed to submit to unavoidable
+accidents without repining, and to make herself happy with those
+amusements in her power when she was deprived of what she might wish for
+but could not procure.
+
+Some time after this Mr. Steward, a gentleman who lived at Smiledale,
+came up to town about business, and called upon Mr. Piner with an
+intention of seeing Miss Jemima, who was much distressed that she
+happened to be absent, as she wished to hear some news of her father and
+brothers. However, he returned again the next day, and Miss Placid very
+gracefully paid her respects to him, and inquired after the friends she
+had left. He satisfied her as to their health, and presented her with a
+letter from her brother Charles, which, as soon as she could find an
+opportunity, she retired to read. The contents were as follow:
+
+    _To Miss Placid._
+
+    'MY DEAR SISTER,
+
+'As William writes so very slowly, and as father does not think he
+should scribble at all, he has desired me to inform you of everything
+that has passed since you left us. And first I must acquaint you with a
+sad accident which will render one of your commissions useless. Poor
+Hector, the day after you went away, was lost for several hours. We went
+to every house in the village, and hunted behind every tomb in the
+churchyard; called Hector! Hector! through all the fields, and then
+returned and sought him in our own garden again; looked under the bench
+in the poultry-yard, nay, even in the cellar and coal hole; but no
+Hector returned. We sat down together on the bottom stair in the hall,
+and William cried ready to break his heart. Father said he was sorry,
+but told us our tears would not bring him back, and advised us to bear
+the loss of him with more fortitude, took William on his lap, and read a
+story to divert him. We got tolerably cheerful and went down to tea; but
+as soon as my brother took up his bread and butter, the thoughts of
+Hector always jumping up to him for a bit, and how he would bark and
+snap in play at his fingers, quite overcame his firmness, and he could
+not touch a morsel. Well, to make short of the story, the next morning
+John came in and told father that Squire Sutton's gamekeeper, not
+knowing to whom he belonged, had shot him for running after the deer.
+"Why now," said I, "if he had but stayed away from the park till Jemima
+had brought him a collar he would not have been killed. Poor Hector! I
+shall hate Ben Hunt as long as I live for it." "Fie, Charles," said my
+father. "Hector is dead, sir," said I; and I did not then stay to hear
+any further. But since that we have talked a great deal about love and
+forgiveness; and I find I must love Ben Hunt, even though I now see poor
+Hector's tomb in the garden. For John went to fetch him, and we buried
+him under the lilac-tree, on the right hand side, just by the large
+sun-flower. And we cried a great deal, and made a card tomb-stone over
+his grave; and father gave us an old hatband and we cut it into pieces
+and we went as mourners. His coffin was carried by Tom Wood, the
+carpenter's son, whose father was so kind as to make it for us, while
+James Stavely (the clerk's nephew), my brother, and I, followed as chief
+mourners, and old nurse and Peggy put on their black hoods which they
+had when Jane Thompson died, and went with us, and we had the kitchen
+table-cloth for a pall, with the old black wrapper put over it which
+used to cover the parrot's cage; but we did not read anything, for that
+would not have been right, as you know. After all, he was but a dog.
+Father, however, to please us, wrote the following epitaph, which I very
+carefully transcribed and affixed over his grave:
+
+    '"Here Hector lies, more bless'd by far
+    Than he who drove the victor's car;
+    Who once Patroclus did subdue,
+    And suffer'd for the conquest too.
+    Like him, o'ercome by cruel fate,
+    Stern fortune's unrelenting hate;
+    An equal doom severe he found,
+    And Hunt inflicts the deadly wound.
+    Less cruel than Pelides, he
+    His manes were pursuits to be;
+    And satisfied to see him fall,
+    Ne'er dragg'd him round the Trojan wall."
+
+'I am very sorry for the poor fellow's untimely end, and so, I daresay,
+you will be. Our rabbit has kindled, and we have one in particular the
+skin of which is white with black spots, the prettiest I ever saw, and
+which we have called Jemima, and will give to you when you return. Peggy
+has sprained her ankle by a fall downstairs. I forgot my wooden horse
+and left it in the way, and she came down in the dark and stumbled over
+it. I was very sorry, and my father was much displeased, as it is what
+he has so often cautioned us against. Jack Dough, the baker's boy,
+brought me a linnet yesterday, which I have placed in a cage near your
+canary-bird, who is very well. I do not think I have much more to say,
+for writing is such tedious work that I am quite tired, though what I
+have done has been a fortnight in hand. I have a great many things which
+I want to tell you if we could meet, and I should wish to know how you
+like London. Good-bye! William desires his love to you, and bids me say
+that he, as well as myself, will ever be
+
+                          'Your affectionate brother,
+
+                              'CHARLES PLACID.'
+
+You may be sure that the intelligence of Hector's death gave Jemima some
+uneasiness; more especially as, at the first time Mr. Steward had
+called, she was out with her aunt and actually purchased a collar for
+him, which, before the receipt of her letter, she had contemplated with
+great satisfaction, in the idea of having so well executed her brothers'
+commission, and the pleasure it would afford them.
+
+When Miss Placid had been in town about four months, and her mother was
+returned from Bristol, Mr. Placid came up to fetch her home, and invited
+her cousins to accompany her to Smiledale, promising to take great care
+of them and to teach them to read and write, and that Mrs. Placid would
+instruct them in every other part of their learning. To which Mr. and
+Mrs. Piner consented. The pleasure which Jemima felt at seeing her
+father after so long an absence can be better imagined than described.
+She looked at him with such transport that the tears started to her
+eyes, and, wanting words to declare the feelings of her heart, could
+only express her joy by stroking and kissing his hand as she sat on a
+stool by his side, and pressing it with fervour between both hers, she
+exclaimed that she was glad to see him. Her uncle and aunt gave her the
+highest praise for her good behaviour, and assured her father that they
+had never during the whole time of her visit seen her once out of
+humour, or at all fretful upon any occasion. Mr. Placid said he was
+extremely happy to hear so good an account of his little girl, but that
+he had expected everything amiable from the sweetness of her
+disposition, adding, 'It would be very strange if she had behaved
+otherwise with you as, I assure you, she is at all times equally
+tractable and engaging.'
+
+The evening before her departure her aunt was so obliging as to present
+her with a new doll, which she had taken great pains to dress, and had
+made for it two dimity petticoats, with a nice pair of stays, a pink
+satin coat, and a muslin frock. She had likewise purchased some cotton
+stockings and a pair of red shoes with white roses, white gloves tied
+with pink strings, and a gauze cap with pink satin ribbons. Jemima,
+with a graceful courtesy, paid her acknowledgments to Mrs. Piner for
+that favour, and all the kind attentions she had received since she had
+been in town, and saw it packed up with great care in a box by itself,
+pleasing herself with the joy it would afford her to show it to her
+mother. She then busied herself in putting up the Indian glue, and a
+great quantity of pictures which had been given her, poor Hector's
+collar, and several books which she had bought and had already perused
+with much delight, particularly 'A Course of Lectures for Sunday
+Evenings,' 'The Village School,' and 'Perambulation of a Mouse,' 2 vols.
+each, together with the 'First Principles of Religion,' and the
+'Adventures of a Pincushion.' All these mighty volumes she took with her
+to Smiledale, and Mr. Placid was so much pleased with them as to send
+for an additional supply to present to his friends. As to the skates, he
+had desired her not to think about them, as he should by no means
+approve of her brothers using them; nor would they have occasion for a
+coach-whip, but as he knew Charles had broken his bat she might carry
+him one instead. Jemima entreated permission to convey to them a drum,
+as she thought it would be a plaything they would much enjoy. To this he
+immediately consented, and went himself to procure one.
+
+The Misses Piner, who were in as great a hurry with their preparations
+as Jemima, behaved with less composure on the occasion. They tossed
+everything out of their drawers in search of such toys as they could
+possibly take with them, and wanted to pack up their whole stock of
+playthings (which, indeed, was a very large one), and then, as fast as
+Dinah put what they desired into their trunk, Ellen snatched it out if
+it belonged to her sister, and Sally did the same unless it happened to
+be her own. So that, quite tired with their teasing, naughty behaviour,
+she turned it topsy-turvy, and declared she would not put up any one
+thing except their clothes, and added she wished they were gone with all
+her heart.
+
+I shall not take up your time with any account of their journey, nor
+endeavour to describe the places which they passed through on their way
+to Smiledale, whither they arrived about five o'clock in the afternoon.
+Jemima ran to her mother with a degree of rapture which evinced the
+sincerity of her joy in returning to her embraces as soon as her
+brothers would permit her to disengage herself from their caresses, for,
+as they knew the day which was fixed for their return, and could nearly
+guess at the time she would arrive, they had taken their stand at the
+very place where they had parted with her, and, as soon as the carriage
+came in sight, they ran with their utmost speed to meet it, and came
+back again, jumping by the side, and when the coach stopped, were so
+eager to welcome their sister that they would scarcely leave room for
+her to get out, and they were in such a hurry to show her every new
+acquisition they had made since her departure that they would not allow
+her time to speak to anybody but themselves.
+
+
+
+
+Two Trials
+
+
+I
+
+Sally Delia
+
+Silence being demanded, the secretary opened the trial.
+
+_Secretary._ Lucy Sterling against Sally Delia, for raising contention
+among her schoolfellows, and disturbing the general peace.
+
+_Judge._ If I was unhappy in being appointed to sit in judgment on Billy
+Prattle, how much more so must I now be when I am bound to inquire with
+impartiality into every particular which may tend to convict Sally Delia
+of the charge laid against her. I would, however, recommend you to go
+through this business with the utmost candour, to advance nothing
+through prejudice, to conceal nothing through a mistaken tenderness; and
+to you, ladies of the jury, to divest yourselves of everything but
+truth, to weigh nicely the force of the evidence, that, in giving your
+verdict, you may convince everyone present you have acted upon upright
+principles.
+
+_Secretary._ Lucy Sterling, please to support the charge.
+
+_Judge._ I would beg leave, Lucy Sterling, before you proceed to give
+your evidence, to ask you whether either of the ladies on the jury were
+anyways concerned in this quarrel.
+
+_Lucy Sterling._ Sally Delia left the choice of her jury to me. It
+therefore became my business, though a principal evidence against her,
+to choose such young ladies as were absent at the time of the fray.
+
+_Judge._ Happy, indeed, is that young lady in whom friends and enemies
+confide!
+
+_Lucy Sterling._ A few evenings ago, when all the young ladies had
+finished their labours for that day, they were allowed to amuse
+themselves in what innocent manner they pleased in our garden. Our
+governess, solicitous for our felicity, thought to add to our pleasures
+by sending us a basket of sweetmeats, which she intended to be equally
+divided; but an unlucky accident turned this kind intention into a scene
+of sorrow, and raised in their hearts nothing but strife. There happened
+to be a piece of candied angelica, which seemed very beautiful. On this
+they all placed their attention, and all begged for that. Every one
+endeavoured to show her superior right. Sally Delia urged her superior
+strength. But as they were all speaking together it was almost
+impossible to distinguish what one said from the other.
+
+_Judge._ Was Sally Delia the first who talked of committing violence?
+
+_Lucy Sterling._ I heard nobody else mention any such thing. I
+endeavoured to quiet them, but they would not listen to me. Their minds
+were so bent upon this piece of sweetmeat that all the rest were
+disregarded. I offered to divide it amongst them to pacify them; but
+they all talked together, and had no time to listen to what I said.
+Then, as the only method to quiet the disturbance, I threw the bone of
+contention into a ditch, from whence it was impossible for either of
+them to get it. A profound silence ensued, and I took that opportunity
+to reason with them on the folly of quarrelling about such trifles. My
+admonitions were in vain, for the contention broke out more violently,
+and the dispute now was, not who should have it, but who ought to have
+had it. Sally Delia was the first who renewed the strife, and not being
+able to give vent to her passion in words alone, gave Nancy Graceful a
+slap on the face. The other returned the blow, and the scuffle became
+general. Many blows, indeed, did not pass between them, for they aimed
+only at tearing each others' clothes. One had her cap torn to pieces,
+and her hair pulled all about her shoulders; a second had her frock torn
+down the middle; and, in short, there was hardly one among them who had
+not some mark to show of having been concerned in this unfortunate
+affair.
+
+_Judge._ What part did you act in this fray, and how did it end?
+
+_Lucy Sterling._ I endeavoured to part them, and in endeavouring so to
+do, received several scratches on the hands and arms. I know not where
+all this would have ended had not our governess come to my assistance.
+After hearing her voice, everything was quiet, excepting with Sally
+Delia, who, in the presence of her governess, tore two handkerchiefs and
+an apron. The fear of punishment now began to take place of anger, and
+each, ashamed of the trophies of victory she held in her hands, let them
+fall to the ground. Our governess for some time stood astonished, little
+thinking that what she had given them to increase their felicity should
+be the cause of so much animosity. Madame inquired of me the cause of
+this disaster, which I explained as well as I was able. They were all
+examined separately, their tears pleaded their pardon; but Sally Delia
+remained obdurate and inflexible.
+
+_Secretary._ Polly Artless, please to come and give evidence.
+
+_Judge._ What do you know, Polly, of this quarrel?
+
+_Polly Artless._ I was not present when it happened; but the next
+morning I attended Sally Delia's examination before Lucy Sterling. Her
+governess had ordered Lucy Sterling to examine her, and in case she
+could not bring her to repentance, then to confine her, and order her to
+be brought to trial.
+
+_Judge._ Relate what passed at this examination.
+
+_Polly Artless._ Lucy Sterling asked her in the most kind manner what
+she could think to get by her contention about a piece of sweetmeat.
+Sally Delia replied that she should not answer her question; that she
+did not like to have more than one governess, and if she obeyed her she
+thought she did enough.
+
+_Judge._ What reply did Lucy Sterling make to this?
+
+_Polly Artless._ Lucy Sterling reminded her of the authority with which
+she herself had contributed to invest her; that she did not set up to
+govern others, or to prove herself wiser than they; that she only wanted
+to persuade her to learn to be peaceable and happy. She therefore begged
+leave to repeat the question whether she got anything by this last
+quarrel?
+
+_Judge._ Did Sally Delia make any answer?
+
+_Polly Artless._ She replied that she could not say she did get anything
+by it but the displeasure of her governess and having her clothes torn;
+that she did not value the sweetmeat, but that she had too much spirit
+to be imposed on, and that she was sure she had as much right to it as
+any of them.
+
+_Judge._ Did Lucy Sterling endeavour any further to convince her of her
+fault?
+
+_Polly Artless._ Yes. Lucy Sterling told her that she would have shown a
+greater spirit in giving up the matter of contention than in fighting
+for it; that then she would have proved herself a young lady of
+moderation and sense, nor would she have incurred the high displeasure
+of her governess. Sally Delia was at a loss for an answer, but she was
+so obstinate that she did not care to own herself in the wrong. At last
+she replied: 'I think I am as capable of judging what is right as you
+are of teaching me.' Then, finding herself overpowered by reason, she
+burst into tears. Lucy Sterling did everything in her power to bring her
+to confess her fault, but all was to no purpose. She therefore left her
+in custody till her trial.
+
+_Judge._ What is the character of Sally Delia among her schoolfellows?
+
+_Polly Artless._ She is too apt to be quarrelsome, too full of her high
+birth, and dissatisfied with everything.
+
+_Secretary._ Betsy Friendly, please to come and give evidence.
+
+_Judge._ What do you know, Betsy Friendly, concerning this quarrel?
+
+_Betsy Friendly._ I accompanied Polly Artless on the examination of the
+accused before Lucy Sterling, and, to the best of my remembrance, Polly
+Artless has told the truth.
+
+_Judge._ Do you know anything further?
+
+_Betsy Friendly._ I called this morning on Sally Delia, before she came
+on her trial. I found her divided between obstinacy and contrition, but
+I thought more inclinable to the latter.
+
+_Judge._ Relate what passed at this visit?
+
+_Betsy Friendly._ As soon as I entered the chamber, I saw her sitting
+on a sofa in a pensive posture, and tears in her eyes. I asked her what
+she thought of Lucy Sterling's advice, and whether it would not have
+been better to have followed it than suffer her conduct to be exposed in
+a public manner?
+
+_Judge._ What reply did she make?
+
+_Betsy Friendly._ Sally Delia said that she began to see a good deal of
+truth in Lucy Sterling's observations, and she seemed to fear that her
+reason would at last oblige her to own it. This last thought seemed to
+fill her with the most painful reflections.
+
+_Judge._ Did you not endeavour to convince her of the folly of her
+obstinacy?
+
+_Betsy Friendly._ I said all I could think of to persuade her to conquer
+her spirit. She would not, at last, give me a word of answer to anything
+I said. I then turned from her and left her.
+
+_Judge._ What have you observed with respect to her general behaviour?
+
+_Betsy Friendly._ She is too often obstinate and quarrelsome, but at
+other times free, easy, and good-natured.
+
+_Secretary._ Susan Lenox, please to give evidence.
+
+_Judge._ What do you know in respect to this fray?
+
+_Susan Lenox._ I have too much reason to remember it, for my cambric
+apron, which had cost me three months' working, was torn to rags.
+
+_Judge._ What is your opinion of the general behaviour of Sally Delia?
+
+_Susan Lenox._ She is sometimes well enough--at least, so long as you
+will listen to her tales about her illustrious family.
+
+_Secretary._ Anne Graceful, please to give evidence.
+
+_Judge._ Please to inform the court, Anne Graceful, of what you know
+concerning this affair.
+
+_Anne Graceful._ I have reason to complain of my loss; my muslin frock
+was entirely destroyed.
+
+_Judge._ Please to inform the court who gave the first blow?
+
+_Anne Graceful._ Though I did not see Delia give the first blow, I have
+no reason to doubt she was the person from whom I received it. When we
+were disputing who ought to have had the favourite sweetmeat, Sally
+Delia urged her high birth and fortune, and concluded that if reason
+could not strength should have obtained it. Hearing this, I turned my
+back on her as a mark of contempt, when I instantly received a violent
+slap on the head.
+
+_Judge._ How did you act on that occasion.
+
+_Anne Graceful._ I instantly turned about, and in my anger, mistaking
+Susan Lenox for Sally Delia, I treated her very rudely.
+
+_Judge._ This ought to teach us that passion is not only ill-becoming a
+young lady, but that it may lead into such mistakes as may be attended
+with serious consequences. But when you found your mistake, how did you
+behave towards Susan Lenox?
+
+_Anne Graceful._ As soon as peace was restored, I begged pardon, and
+offered to repair all injuries. The former was granted, but the latter
+she would not accept.
+
+_Judge._ I have only one more question to ask, which you will please to
+answer me on your word. Was there not some old grudge subsisting between
+you and Sally Delia?
+
+_Anne Graceful._ I must own that I never liked her; there was something
+in her so proud and overbearing as gave me a disgust.
+
+_Judge._ But were Delia to alter her conduct, should you forget what is
+past?
+
+_Anne Graceful._ When she begins to act like a reasonable girl, she
+will become dear to me and the rest of her schoolfellows.
+
+_Secretary._ Henry Lenox, come forward and give evidence.
+
+_Judge._ What do you know, Henry Lenox, of this fray?
+
+_Henry Lenox._ I saw all the finest part of it. I happened to be looking
+after a bird's nest in a field next to the garden: I heard the young
+ladies in high chat: but, as the sound did not seem to be very
+harmonious, curiosity led me to see what they were at. I instantly
+climbed up into a tree, and scarce had I taken my seat, when the
+engagement began. I saw Sally Delia strike Anne Graceful in the face;
+that young lady turned about and pulled off my sister's cap, and part of
+her hair with it. The battle soon became general, and it was impossible
+for me to distinguish friends from foes. Such a havoc ensued among caps,
+gowns, and frocks, as I never before beheld. This is the truth of what I
+know of this terrible disaster.
+
+_Judge._ Do you, on your word, declare that Sally Delia gave the first
+blow?
+
+_Henry Lenox._ I am certain she did.
+
+_Judge._ Sally Delia, what have you to say in your defence?
+
+_Sally Delia._ I am now brought to a public trial, as though I were some
+mean-born wretch; but out of conformity to your customs I submit to it.
+I deny the whole of the charge, and will wait for the verdict.
+
+_Judge._ Young ladies of the jury, Sally Delia now stands before you,
+accused of raising strife and contention among her schoolfellows, and
+disturbing the general peace. Lucy Sterling affirms that the governess
+having presented the young ladies with a basket of sweetmeats to regale
+them, a quarrel arose among them with respect to the preference of
+choice of one part of it. Disputes ran high, and at last Sally Delia
+was so imprudent as to lift up her hand against one of her
+schoolfellows, which created a general confusion. The part Lucy Sterling
+acted in endeavouring to pacify them is no small addition to that
+character for which she is so justly admired. This young lady says
+positively that she saw Sally Delia give the first blow; that the
+contention was no sooner over than all of them were sorry for what they
+had done, except Sally Delia, who persisted in her fault, and was to be
+prevailed on by no entreaties or arguments. Polly Artless says that she
+was not present at the fray, but attended Sally Delia on her examination
+before Lucy Sterling, and corroborates everything which that young lady
+had advanced, but more particularly points out the care Lucy Sterling
+took to bring her to reason. I may add, the character this evidence
+gives Sally Delia is not at all to her reputation. Betsy Friendly, who
+visited the accused before her trial, seems to speak something in her
+favour by saying she showed some marks of contrition, but at last left
+her in an obstinate condition. Susan Lenox stood next to the accused at
+the time she struck Anne Graceful, and became herself a sufferer
+thereby. Anne Graceful cannot take upon herself positively that Sally
+Delia was the person that struck her, though circumstances are strong
+against her; but Henry Lenox declares he saw Sally Delia give the blow.
+Sally Delia, in her defence, contents herself with denying the whole of
+the charge, and rests on her innocence. I will only observe that I
+cannot see how you can acquit her when there are so many convincing
+proofs of her guilt. The principal point to be considered is what
+punishment you will inflict: it ought not to be so slight a one that the
+remembrance of it may leave no impression behind, nor so heavy that it
+may anyways be deemed insupportable. After all, I only give my opinion
+freely, which, above all, is to do justice and love mercy.
+
+(The jury went out, and returned again in about half an hour.)
+
+_Judge._ Are you all agreed in your verdict?
+
+_Jury._ Yes.
+
+_Judge._ Is Sally Delia guilty or not guilty?
+
+_Jury._ Guilty.
+
+_Judge._ What punishment do you inflict?
+
+_Jury._ To be confined one month to her chamber; to be allowed neither
+sweetmeats nor fruit, nor to receive any visits; but, that her health
+may not be impaired, that she be allowed to walk twice a day in the
+garden, at those times when none of the scholars are there; that, after
+that time is expired, she be brought into the large hall, and there be
+obliged to ask a general pardon of all her schoolfellows; and that, in
+case she refuses to comply with these injunctions, that her parents be
+then prayed to take her home.
+
+Sally Delia, who had made no doubt that she should be acquitted, no
+sooner heard this hard judgment given against her than she burst into
+tears. The judge seeing it, thus spoke to her: 'I should be glad, Sally
+Delia, if you would inform me and the whole court from what source those
+tears flow: whether from a just sense of your crimes, or only from the
+apprehensions of your punishment? Why should you delay to humble that
+haughty spirit, to acknowledge your error, and beg for a mitigation of
+your punishments? I will myself then plead for you. But remember, if you
+continue obstinate till the court is broken up, your repentance
+afterwards will come too late.'
+
+Sally Delia then fell upon her knees, acknowledged her fault, and begged
+a mitigation of her punishment. The judge recommended her to the jury,
+who left the matter entirely to him. He ordered her to be confined only
+three days, and even during that time to have the liberty of receiving
+visits from the rest of the scholars.
+
+The trial being now ended, Sally Delia's schoolfellows, who just before
+had been evidences against her, ran to her and tenderly embraced her.
+
+She promised to lay aside all her haughty actions, and, instead of being
+hated by her companions, to obtain the love of them all. She kept her
+word, and is now become one of the most amiable young ladies in the
+school.
+
+The whole court was extremely well satisfied with the candid manner in
+which every part of the trial was supported.
+
+
+II
+
+Harry Lenox
+
+Harry Lenox little thought, when he was giving evidence against Sally
+Delia, that he should himself be soon brought to public trial. He was in
+many respects of a good disposition; he loved his books, was affable and
+obliging to his schoolfellows, and subservient to his tutor; but then he
+was fond of getting into mischief, such as breaking church-windows,
+laying traps to throw people down, and was very ingenious at inventions
+of this kind. Whenever he was accused of anything of this sort, he would
+not only deny it, but stoutly stand to it; and this, at last, brought
+him to a trial.
+
+The young gentlemen in general were very much vexed at Harry's disgrace,
+and would have bought off the complaint but that this would have been
+deemed bribery and corruption. The ladies were, most of them, well
+pleased that he was himself now brought into the same dilemma. In the
+meantime the judge took his seat, the jury assembled, and the prisoner
+was brought to the bar.
+
+_Secretary._ Sammy Halifax against Harry Lenox, for a robbery and
+telling a fib.
+
+_Judge._ Call up the evidence.
+
+_Secretary._ Sammy Halifax, support the charge.
+
+_Judge._ What have you to say, Sammy Halifax, against the prisoner?
+
+_Sammy Halifax._ A few days ago, having given my tutor satisfaction in
+the performance of my exercises, he ordered me a plum-tart as a reward.
+It was baked in a tin pan, which I was ordered to bring back as soon as
+I had eat the tart. Henry Lenox was remarkably taken with the look of
+this tart, and offered to keep it for me till I wanted it, alleging that
+his room, which was a north light, would keep it much better than mine,
+on which the sun shone the hottest part of the day. I accepted the
+offer, and saw him put it into his cupboard. I went immediately to
+invite two or three of my intimates to partake of it in the evening in
+my own room, and thought I could do no less than ask Harry Lenox to make
+one of the party, in consideration of his kindness; but he excused
+himself. In the evening we all met, and Harry Lenox brought the tart and
+set it down, and begged leave to be excused, as he had promised to take
+a walk with his sister. It was a long time, so charming did it look,
+before we could persuade ourselves to spoil the sight of it. At last I
+stuck my knife into it; but how shall I express our disappointment when,
+instead of fine plums and rich juice, we found only pebbles and water!
+We all vowed revenge for this piece of treachery, and would have beat
+him soundly could we have then found him; but he had taken care to get
+out of the way. When our first warmth was over, we concluded it would be
+better to treat him in a judicial manner; and he is now before this
+court for that purpose.
+
+_Judge._ You have said that you saw him put the tart into the cupboard;
+can you take upon you to say whether or not there was any lock to it?
+
+_Sammy Halifax._ I am certain there was no lock on the cupboard; for he
+said to me when he put the tart into it that he had no lock, and he
+hoped nobody would get at it.
+
+_Judge._ By what reason do you then conclude that he was the thief?
+
+_Sammy Halifax._ Because he had the care of it, and refused to come and
+partake of it.
+
+_Secretary._ George Bobadil, come and give evidence.
+
+_Judge._ What do you know of this matter, George Bobadil?
+
+_George Bobadil._ I was one invited by Sammy Halifax to eat part of this
+tart; but on cutting it up, instead of plums, we found only stones. It
+was instantly concluded that Henry Lenox was the traitor.
+
+_Judge._ Had you any other reason to suppose that Henry Lenox was such?
+
+_George Bobadil._ There was reason to think so; besides, I met him as I
+was going to the feast, stopped him, and told him where I was hastening;
+when he replied, as I thought, with a sneer, 'You will have a delicate
+repast!' I did not then know that he was entrusted with the care of it,
+and concluded that this manner of answering me arose from my
+supposition of his not being invited; but the tart was no sooner cut up
+than his reason for answering me thus was evidently apparent.
+
+_Judge._ You cannot take upon you to say that you positively know him to
+be guilty of the charge?
+
+_George Bobadil._ I cannot, but there is the strongest presumption of
+it.
+
+_Secretary._ Samuel Evelyn, come and give evidence.
+
+_Judge._ What have you to say, Samuel Evelyn, to this matter?
+
+_Samuel Evelyn._ I was one invited by Sammy Halifax to partake of this
+tart, which, when cut up, produced nothing but stones. I had been
+walking after dinner in the garden before I went into the school; and
+when I got to the bottom of it I saw Henry Lenox and three or four more
+sitting on the grass under a rose-bush. As soon as I came within sight
+of them, I saw them all in a bustle; and when I came up to them, though
+I did not see them eating anything, yet their mouths were so clammy that
+it was with difficulty they could answer me. As I had then no reason to
+suspect anything, and finding myself an unwelcome guest, I left them and
+went into the school.
+
+_Judge._ You do not, then, pretend to say what they had been eating.
+
+_Samuel Evelyn._ I cannot take upon me positively to say what they had
+been eating, but I afterwards made no doubt of its being Sammy Halifax's
+tart.
+
+_Secretary._ Come, Edward Harris, and give evidence.
+
+_Judge._ What have you to say, Edward, with respect to this tart?
+
+_Edward Harris._ I was invited to partake of it, and was, like the rest,
+disappointed; for there was nothing left but the top crust, the side and
+bottom crust, all the plums being taken away, and stones and water put
+in their place.
+
+_Judge._ Who do you suppose did it?
+
+_Edward Harris._ I make no doubt that it was Henry Lenox. It being left
+in his custody, and his refusing to come and partake of it, seem to
+corroborate the guilt of Henry Lenox.
+
+_Judge._ Have you any other circumstance to allege against him?
+
+_Edward Harris._ Yes; after he came out of the garden, and had been some
+time in the school, he was called out to construe. Before he left his
+form, he pulled out his handkerchief to blow his nose, when three or
+four plumstones fell on the ground. After he was gone I picked them up,
+for I love the bitter of the kernel.
+
+_Judge._ Did you observe these plumstones, whether they were of a pale
+or a red colour?
+
+_Edward Harris._ I had put them into my pocket, and forgotten them; but,
+on meeting with my disappointment in the tart, and finding there was so
+much room to suspect that Henry Lenox was the culprit, I pulled out the
+stones, and found by their colour they had been baked, for they were of
+a deep red. We concluded likewise that they must that day have been
+taken out of some tart, as they were still clammy.
+
+_Judge._ Did you ask Henry Lenox how he came by those stones?
+
+_Edward Harris._ I did not, for I well knew, if I had, he would not have
+answered me.
+
+_Judge._ Did you take any method to discover who was the person that
+robbed Sammy Halifax?
+
+_Edward Harris._ Yes; we agreed among ourselves, with our tutor's leave,
+to stick up a paper in the school, offering one shilling reward to any
+of the party who would turn evidence, and give information of the person
+who committed the fact. As we had great reason to suppose several were
+concerned in the eating of it, we were in hopes by this means to make a
+discovery; but we were disappointed, for not any spoke a word about it,
+and all in general pleaded ignorance.
+
+_Secretary._ Hannah Careful, please give evidence.
+
+_Judge._ Pray, what have you to say to this matter?
+
+_Hannah Careful._ I am a half-boarder, and was ordered by my governess
+to attend here, in order to prove that the tart I delivered to Sammy
+Halifax was filled with plums, and not stones.
+
+_Judge._ That is a material point; pray proceed.
+
+_Hannah Careful._ My governess instructs me in the art of pastry and
+confectionery; I that day made all the tarts myself, and was ordered to
+give Sammy Halifax one of the best. Before I gave it him, I raised one
+side of the crust, to see if the syrup might not have boiled out, when I
+found it had not; and I am certain it was filled with plums when I
+delivered it to Sammy Halifax.
+
+_Secretary._ Sally Delia, please to give evidence.
+
+_Judge._ What do you know of this affair?
+
+_Sally Delia._ Your lordship cannot have yet forgotten that I was myself
+so unfortunate as to fall under the censure of this court. I am sorry
+for the crime which then brought me before you, but I shall ever
+consider that day as the happiest period of my life--a day in which I
+was convinced of my folly, obstinacy, and self-conceit; a day to which I
+owe all the happiness of a calm and peaceful life, free from the
+passions of thoughtless girls who place enjoyments in the gratification
+of unreasonable desires.
+
+_Judge._ Pray, Sally, proceed, and do not imagine you will be
+troublesome to the court; there is nothing we can listen to with so much
+pleasure as the language of reformation.
+
+_Sally Delia._ I do not mention this out of vanity; only to induce the
+court to believe that I do not this day appear here against Henry Lenox
+out of any grudge whatever to his having been a witness against me. So
+far from it, I consider him as my benefactor; I consider him as one of
+those to whom I am indebted for my reformation. Happy shall I think
+myself if I shall in any way contribute to his.
+
+_Judge._ Your evidence cannot be disputed, and I doubt not the jury will
+lay much stress on what you shall advance.
+
+_Sally Delia._ It has lately been my custom in the evening to retire to
+a little arbour behind the summer-house in the bottom of the garden. I
+had this evening been so intent on what I was reading that I had stayed
+longer than usual. In the midst of my thoughts I was interrupted by the
+noise of somebody breaking through the bushes. I soon heard Henry
+Lenox's voice, and that of some others whom I well knew. I soon found
+the cause of their thus breaking out of their own bounds. They had some
+secret to talk of. I sat as still as possible, fearing I might be
+discovered, and heard Henry Lenox say, 'If you blow me, I never will
+forgive you; besides, you will come in for a flogging as well as me.'
+They all promised they never would puff; one said he never ate anything
+sweeter in his life; another said it was sweeter because it was stolen;
+and a fourth laughed heartily on thinking, when it was opened, how
+foolish they must all look; it was, says the fifth, one of the
+best----Here he stopped, for the foot of a person was heard coming down
+the garden, when they all flew away, and got off unperceived by anyone
+but myself. It was one of the maids, who was coming to look after me;
+and my governess chid me for staying beyond the time allowed me. My
+acknowledging my fault and asking pardon was thought a sufficient
+atonement.
+
+[Illustration: _'I was reading, and was interrupted by Henry Lenox and
+three others talking over a secret.'--Page 64._]
+
+_Judge._ Can you, from what you heard in the garden, take upon you to
+say that Henry Lenox is certainly guilty of what is laid to his charge?
+
+_Sally Delia._ Had not the maid disturbed them by coming to call me, I
+doubt not but I should have been able to answer in the affirmative; at
+the present, I only say that I believe so, and that upon the strongest
+presumption.
+
+_Henry Lenox._ I am happy in being tried by a judge and jury who have
+too much sense to convict me on mere conjecture, and there is far from
+any positive proof. To give a verdict against me in this case would be
+opening a way to the greatest errors. How many, through the hasty
+determination of a jury, on mere conjecture, have suffered unjustly! But
+should I meet with that fate, I will never find fault or repine, since I
+am sensible I shall not be the first, and I trust that my innocence will
+support me under the unmerited disgrace. Sammy Halifax came to me,
+brought a tart in his hand, and for safety, to oblige him, I put it into
+my cupboard. I brought it from thence, and gave it him. If anyone got to
+it, and treated it in the manner he describes, I am sorry for it; but it
+cannot be imputed to my fault. My reason for declining taking part of it
+is well known to my sister, whom I had promised to take a walk with in
+the evening. She is now in court, and I apprehend her word will not be
+doubted. As for the sneering words I made use of to George Bobadil (for
+that was the term he gave them), if they had any particular meaning at
+all, it could only serve to show what little consideration I made of
+mere matters for the tooth. As for the evidence which Samuel Evelyn has
+given against me, it can be of no weight, since it is well known that
+each has his confidant, and that each has some mighty secret to reveal
+to another. As to what Edward Harris advances with respect to the
+plumstones, they might as easily have fallen from the pocket of another
+as from mine, and there is even a possibility that these very plumstones
+may have come out of the tart after they themselves had eat it. Upon the
+whole, I leave it to your lordship and this honourable court whether
+there be any other view in this trial than that my accusers may obtain
+another tart at the expense of my credit.
+
+_Secretary._ Susan Lenox, please give evidence.
+
+_Susan Lenox._ My brother came to me in the evening in which the tart
+was eat, agreeable to my invitation; and I did not hear him mention the
+least syllable that could indicate his guilt in this matter. He
+mentioned the tart, indeed, by saying he was invited to eat part of it,
+but added that his appetite was the least of his concern.
+
+_Judge._ Did he appear more cheerful or dejected than usual?
+
+_Susan Lenox._ I perceived no change in him; he had nothing more or less
+of his natural gaiety and cheerfulness.
+
+_Stephen Brooks._ I have known the prisoner a long time, and have always
+found him more ready to give than receive, and far from taking anything
+from anyone.
+
+_Richard Richards._ The prisoner has been my intimate playmate for four
+years, and I never once quarrelled with him in my life.
+
+_Benjamin Blunt._ The whole is a contrivance to bring Henry Lenox into
+disgrace, and to make you believe they have been ill used.
+
+_Judge._ You have said, Sally Delia, that there were some voices you
+heard in the summer-house besides that of Henry Lenox. Do you imagine
+that either of these last young gentlemen were there?
+
+_Sally Delia._ I am certain they were all three there.
+
+_Judge._ Young gentlemen of the jury, I will not take up your time in
+recapitulating the evidence given; every part of it seems to agree so
+well that you cannot mistake it. The two principal points to be
+considered are these: If you are determined to find him guilty only on
+positive proofs, then you must acquit him, for there does not appear to
+be any throughout the whole trial; but if you will be contented with
+circumstances, supported by the strongest evidence that can be given,
+then you must find him guilty. It is, indeed, a just observation of the
+prisoner, in his defence, that many have suffered innocently, though on
+the strongest presumptions, and I must add that the character of a young
+gentleman is too tender a thing to be sported with. After all, I do not
+presume to direct you. I would only advise you to think of the matter
+impartially; a verdict given from such principles of action, though it
+may tend to lead to a mistake, can never be attended with reproach.
+
+(The jury then went out of court, and returned in about an hour and a
+quarter.)
+
+_Judge._ Gentlemen of the jury, are you agreed in your verdict?
+
+_Jury._ We cannot determine, and therefore beg to leave it special.
+
+The judge immediately quitted the chair, which was soon after filled by
+the tutor, and the judge took the place of the secretary. Henry Lenox,
+who had not doubted, as there was no positive proof against him, but
+that he should be acquitted, as soon as he found the jury left it
+special, and that his tutor had taken the chair against him, his heart
+instantly failed him, and everyone took notice of the alteration of his
+countenance. Judge Meanwell then went all through the evidence, which,
+being finished, the tutor thus addressed Henry Lenox:
+
+'Henry Lenox, I am unhappy for you in finding that to the crime of theft
+you have added the grievous guilt of a lie. By your artful defence, you
+have so far baffled the jury as to make them doubtful of the clearest
+thing in the world. Do not foolishly imagine that you have any
+compliment to pay yourself on this score; the most shining abilities,
+when used to deceive and mislead, to trick and cozen mankind, and to
+persuade them out of their lawful property, become the most dangerous
+possessions, and are as mischievous as plagues, pestilence, and famine.
+How can you dare to arrogate to yourself that part of philosophy which
+teaches you to look upon the luxuries of life with indifference, while
+your heart must tell you that you have not the least claim to it, and
+that you sacrifice your character and reputation to obtain luxurious
+trifles? They who are capable of deceiving in small concerns will not
+scruple to be guilty of injustice in matters of the highest moment. No
+one is wicked all at once; they harden their hearts by degrees against
+the truth, and at last are totally blind to it. Such conduct as yours
+promises nothing but the most fatal events; but it is my place to
+destroy it in its bud; and be assured that, though the jury could not
+see into your guilt, I can most clearly; and I do further tell you that
+unless you confess your fault, ask pardon, promise to do so no more, and
+make it your study to keep your word, I will treat you with the utmost
+severity. I will abridge you of every kind of amusement, and will
+confine you from the rest of your schoolfellows, that you may not
+corrupt them. On the other hand, if you confess your crime, I will
+lessen your punishment, and may, perhaps, restore you to my favour.'
+
+Henry Lenox then fell on his knees, and, with tears in his eyes,
+confessed he was guilty, but mentioned nothing of those that ate part of
+it. His master then forgave him, on his most faithful promises of future
+amendment; and those who had been evidences against him shook hands with
+him, and they were all friends immediately.
+
+
+
+
+Prince Life
+
+
+Chapter I
+
+Once upon a time there was a young Prince who met with a very curious
+kind of misfortune. Most people want something which they cannot get;
+and because they cannot get it, they generally desire it more than
+anything else, which is very foolish, for it would be much better to be
+contented with what they have.
+
+He was a wise fox, my dear Charlie, who thought the grapes were sour
+when he could not reach them. Now the Prince's misfortune consisted in
+this, that he had everything on earth he could want or desire, and a
+little more. He had a fine palace and a fine country, obedient subjects
+and servants, and true friends. When he got up in the morning, there was
+someone ready to put on his clothes for him; when he went to bed at
+night, someone to take them off again. A fairy called Prosperity gave
+him everything he desired as soon as he desired it. If he wanted peaches
+at Christmas, or cool air at mid-summer, the first came instantly from
+his hothouses, and the second was produced by an enormous fan, which
+hung from the top of the room, and was moved by two servants.
+
+But strange to say, the Prince got weary of all this; he was tired of
+wanting nothing. When he sat down to dinner he had but little appetite,
+because he had had such a good breakfast; he hardly knew which coat to
+put on, they were all so beautiful; and when he went to bed at night,
+though the bed was as soft as a white cloud, he could not sleep, for he
+was not tired.
+
+There was only one ugly thing in the whole palace, which was a little,
+drowsy, grey dwarf, left there by the fairy Prosperity. He kept yawning
+all day, and very often set the Prince yawning, too, only to look at
+him. This dwarf they called Satiety, and he followed the Prince about
+wherever he went.
+
+One day the Prince asked him what he was yawning for, and Satiety
+answered:
+
+'Because I have nothing to do, and nothing to wish for, my Prince.'
+
+'I suppose that is the reason why I yawn, too,' replied the Prince.
+
+'Rather is it having me always with you,' answered Satiety.
+
+'Then get away and leave me,' said the Prince.
+
+'I cannot do that,' answered Satiety. 'You can go from me, but I cannot
+go from you; I can never leave you as long as you remain in the palace
+of Prosperity.'
+
+'Then I will have you turned out,' said the Prince.
+
+'No one can do that,' said Satiety, 'but Misfortune, and he is a very
+capricious person. Though he is a very disagreeable monster, some people
+seem to court him, but cannot get him to come near them; while to a
+great many he comes unawares, and catches them, though they fly from
+him eagerly. I tell you, Prince, you can go from me, but I cannot go
+from you as long as you remain in the palace of Prosperity.'
+
+That night, when he went to his soft bed, the Prince thought very much
+as to the conversation he had held with Satiety, and he resolved to go
+out of the palace for a time, just to get rid of the ugly little grey,
+yawning dwarf.
+
+The very resolution seemed to do him good, and he slept better that
+night after he had made it than he had done for many a night before.
+
+
+Chapter II
+
+The next morning when he rose he felt quite refreshed, and he said to a
+groom: 'Bring me my stout horse, Expedition; I am going out to take a
+ride all alone.'
+
+The groom answered not a word, for in that palace everyone obeyed the
+Prince at once, and nobody troubled him but the ugly little dwarf,
+Satiety. As he went away, however, the groom said to himself with a
+sigh: 'It is a sad thing to be in the wide world all alone. My Prince
+does not know what it is. But let him try; it may be better for him.'
+
+He accordingly brought the horse to the palace-door. But when the Prince
+came down he felt quite well, and, looking about amongst all his
+attendants, he could only catch a distant glimpse of Satiety standing
+yawning behind. For a minute he was half-inclined not to go, for he did
+not mind seeing Satiety at a distance if he did not come near. But the
+groom, whose name was Resolution, seeing him hesitate, said: 'You had
+better go, my Prince, as you determined; it may do you good.' And a
+chamberlain called Effort helped him on his horse.
+
+At first, as the Prince rode along, everything was quite delightful to
+him. He seemed to breathe more freely now that he was no more troubled
+with Satiety. The flowers looked bright, and the sky beautiful, for a
+cloud or two here and there only gave variety. The very air seemed
+fresher than it had been in the sheltered gardens of the palace, and the
+Prince said to himself: 'What a delightful country this is, just on the
+verge of the land of Prosperity.'
+
+Just then he saw a countryman gathering grapes in a vineyard, and every
+now and then putting some into his mouth, and the Prince asked him whose
+fine estate it was that he was passing through.
+
+'It belongs to a gentleman and lady equally, sir,' replied the good man;
+'they are called Activity and Ease. They are the happiest couple ever
+seen. When Activity is tired, Ease takes his head upon her lap; and soon
+as she is weary of her burden, Activity jumps up and relieves her from
+it.'
+
+'But to whom does that more barren country just beyond belong?' asked
+the Prince. 'And what is that great thick wood I see farther on still?'
+
+'That is the land of Labour and the Forest of Adversity,' said the man.
+'I would advise you to get through them as soon as possible, for the
+first you will find very wearisome, and the second exceedingly
+unpleasant, although people do say that there is a great deal of very
+good fruit in the forest; only one gets well-nigh torn to pieces with
+the thorns before one can reach it.'
+
+The Prince determined to follow his advice, and rode on. There was not
+anything very tempting to him as he passed through the land of Labour,
+and it seemed a long and weary way from the beginning to the end of it.
+But the forest, even at its entrance, was very dark and gloomy indeed.
+Thick trees crossed each other overhead, and shut out the bright,
+cheerful daylight. He could hardly see his way along the narrow,
+tortuous paths, and the thorns which the peasant had spoken of ran into
+him continually, for they grew high as well as thick, and crossed the
+path in every direction. He began heartily to repent that he had quitted
+the palace of Prosperity, and wished himself back again with all his
+heart, thinking that he should care little about yawning Satiety if he
+could but get out of the thorns of Adversity. Indeed, he tried to turn
+his horse back; but he found it more difficult than he imagined, for, as
+I have told you, the road was very narrow and those thorns hedged it on
+every side. There was nothing for it, in short, but to try and force his
+way on through the wood, in the hope of finding something better beyond.
+
+The Prince did not know which way to take, indeed, and he tried a great
+number of paths, but in vain. Still there were the same thorns and the
+same gloomy darkness. He was hungry and thirsty, and he looked round for
+those fruits he had heard of; but he could see none of them at the time,
+and the more he sought his way out, the deeper he seemed to get into the
+forest. The air was very sultry and oppressive, too; he grew weary and
+faint, quite sick at heart, and even the limbs of his good horse seemed
+to be failing him, and hardly able to carry him on.
+
+Dark as it all was, it at length begin to grow darker, and he perceived
+that night was coming, so that the poor Prince began to give up all
+hope, and to think that there would be nothing for him but to lie down
+and die in despair, when suddenly he caught a sort of twinkling light
+through the thick bushes, which seemed to lie in the way he was going,
+and on he went, slowly enough, poor man! But still the light was before
+him, till suddenly he came to a great rock, overgrown in many places
+with briars and brambles. In the midst of it, however, was the mouth of
+a large cave, with great masses of stone hanging over, as if ready to
+fall on a traveller's head. It was a very stern and gloomy-looking place
+indeed, with clefts and crevices and ragged crags all around. But a few
+steps in the cave someone seemed to have built themselves a house; for
+it was blocked up with large, unhewn boards of wood, and in this
+partition there was a door and a window, through which came the light he
+had seen. The Prince dismounted from his horse, and though he did not
+know who might be within, he thought it best to knock at the door, and
+ask for food and shelter.
+
+The moment he knocked a loud, hoarse voice cried:
+
+'Come in!' and tying his horse to a tree, he opened the door.
+
+
+Chapter III
+
+Now, whatever the poor Prince had expected to find, he was certainly
+disappointed; for that thicket of Adversity is full of disappointments,
+as everyone knows who has travelled through it. He had thought he should
+see some poor woodman or honest peasant, who would welcome him to his
+homely hut in the rock with kindness and benevolence; but instead of
+that he beheld, seated at the table, carving away at a piece of stick by
+the light of a very small twinkling candle, one of the most tremendous
+monsters ever man's eyes lighted upon. In shape he was like a man, but
+he was a great deal stronger than any man. His face looked as if it were
+cast in iron, so hard and rigid were all the features; and there was an
+everlasting frown planted on his brow. His hands were long and sinewy,
+with terrible sharp claws upon them; and his feet were so large and
+heavy that they seemed as if they would crush anything they would set
+upon to pieces.
+
+The poor Prince, though he was a very brave young man, stopped and
+hesitated at the sight of this giant; but the monster, without ever
+turning his head, cried out again: 'Come in! Why do you pause? All men
+must obey me, and I am the only one that all men do obey.'
+
+'You must be a mighty monarch, then,' said the young Prince, taking
+courage. 'Pray, what is your name?'
+
+'My name is Necessity,' answered the other in his thundering voice; 'and
+some people give me bad names, and call me "Hard Necessity" and "Dire
+Necessity"; but, nevertheless, I often lead men to great things and
+teach them useful arts if they do but struggle with me valiantly.'
+
+'Then I wish you would lead me to where I can get some rest,' said the
+Prince, 'and teach me how I can procure food for myself and my poor
+famishing horse.'
+
+The monster rose up almost as tall as a steeple and suddenly laid his
+great clutches upon the Prince's shoulders, saying: 'I will do both, if
+you do but wrestle with me courageously. You must do it, for there is no
+other way of escaping from my hands.'
+
+The Prince had never been handled so roughly before, and as he was
+brave, strong, and active, he made a great effort to free himself, and
+tried a thousand ways, but to no purpose. The giant did not hurt him,
+however, though he pressed him very hard, and at length he cried out:
+'Ho, ho! you are a brave young man! Leave off struggling, and you shall
+have some food and drink, such as you would never have tasted had you
+not come to me.'
+
+Thereupon he led him to his own coarse wooden table, and set before him
+half of a hard brown loaf and a pitcher of water; but so hungry and
+thirsty was the Prince that the bread seemed to him the best he had ever
+eaten, and the water sweeter than any in the world.
+
+'Unfasten your horse's bridle,' said Necessity, when the Prince had
+done, 'and I will soon teach him where to find something to feed upon.'
+
+The Prince did as the giant told him at once, and then his stern-looking
+companion pointed to a wooden bedstead in a dark corner of the cave,
+which looked as hard as his own face, saying: 'There, lie down and
+sleep.'
+
+'I can never sleep on that thing,' said the Prince.
+
+'Ho, ho!' cried the other; 'Necessity can make any bed soft,' and taking
+a bundle of straw, he threw it down on the bedstead.
+
+
+Chapter IV
+
+Sleep was sweeter to the Prince that night than it had ever been upon a
+bed of down, and when he rose the next morning the monster's features
+did not seem half so stern and forbidding as they had done at first. The
+inside of the cave, too, looked much more light and blithesome, though
+it was a dark and frowning place enough still, with hard rock all round,
+and nothing but one window to let in a little sunshine.
+
+Necessity, however, did not intend to keep the Prince there, and as
+soon as he was up the giant said to him: 'Come, trudge; you must quit my
+cave, and go on.'
+
+'You must open the door for me, then,' said the Prince; 'for the bolt is
+so high up I cannot reach it.'
+
+'You cannot get out by the door through which you came in,' said the
+giant, 'for it is the door of Idleness. There is but one way for you to
+get out, and that I will show you.'
+
+So, taking him by the hand, he led him on into a very dark part of the
+cave, which went a long way under ground, and then said to him: 'You
+must now go on until you come to a great house, where you will find an
+old woman, who will give you your meals at least.'
+
+'But I want to return to my own palace of Prosperity,' replied the
+Prince.
+
+'She will show you the way,' replied the monster, 'and without her you
+will never find it. Go on at once, and don't stand talking.'
+
+'But I cannot see the path,' said the Prince.
+
+'You must find it,' said Necessity, and gave him a great push, which
+sent him on at a very rapid rate.
+
+For some time he continued to grope his way almost in darkness, but soon
+a light began to shine before him, which grew bigger and bigger as he
+advanced, and he perceived that he was coming to another mouth of the
+cave, leading to an open, but very rough country. The Prince was very
+glad indeed to issue forth and breathe the fresh air, and he looked at
+the clear sky with great satisfaction. Just before him, however, there
+was a large house, with a great number of doors and windows; and as he
+felt very hungry, he determined to knock, and see if he could get any
+breakfast.
+
+Almost as soon as he had touched the knocker the door was opened by a
+little old woman, plainly dressed, but neat and tidy; and when the
+Prince told her who he was, and what he wanted, she answered him with a
+good-humoured smile, very different from the frown of stern Necessity:
+'Everyone can have food in my house who chooses to work for it; nobody
+without. I can help you on your way, too; and as for your poor horse you
+talk about, he shall be provided for. My name is Industry, and Industry
+always takes care of her beasts. Come in, young man; come in.'
+
+The Prince went in with a glad step, and found the house quite full of
+people, all as busy as bees in a field of clover, and all looking as
+bright and cheerful as if they had washed their faces in sunshine.
+
+It would take me an hour to tell you all the different things they were
+employed in, everyone working by himself on his separate task, although
+two or three were often seen doing different pieces of the same work.
+But there were two very nice, pretty girls there whom I must speak of,
+who seemed to be handmaidens to the mistress of the house. One was a
+thoughtful-looking, careful girl, who was busy in every part of the room
+alternately, picking up all the little odds and ends which were left
+after any piece of work was completed--little bits of string, ends of
+tape or thread, stray nails, chips of wood, or pieces of paper. These,
+as soon as she had gathered them up, she put safely by, where she could
+find them again; and it is wonderful how often she was called upon by
+the workmen for some little scrap or another, just sufficient to
+complete what they were about. Her name was Economy.
+
+The other was a brighter, quicker-looking person, with very clear eyes,
+like two stars, who went continually through the room, putting
+everything to rights. If a chair was out of its place, or a table turned
+awry, or a tool put down where it should not be she could not bear to
+see it for a minute, but put all things straight again, so that nobody
+was at a loss where to find anything. She was called Order.
+
+The hungry Prince was somewhat mortified to find a good, large piece of
+work assigned him to do before he could get his breakfast, and at first
+he was exceedingly awkward, and did not know how to set about it; but
+Industry showed him the way, Order helped him a good deal, and Economy
+supplied him with the materials.
+
+
+Chapter V
+
+At the end of an hour he had completed his task, and the old lady patted
+him on the shoulder, saying, 'Well done; you are a very good young man.
+Now Industry will give you your breakfast, and help you on the way to a
+very nice place, where you will get all you desire.'
+
+Thus saying, she led him into a great hall, where there was a vast
+number of people, all eating rich fruits, with a somewhat hard-favoured
+dame, whom they called Labour, scattering sugar on the different dishes.
+
+When the Prince heard her name, he asked one of the people near if that
+was really Labour, saying, 'I passed through her land not long ago, and
+it seemed so poor and hard a country that I should have thought it
+produced nothing good.'
+
+'That is a mistake,' said the other. 'That is the land where grows the
+sugar-cane, and Labour always sweetens the food of Industry.'
+
+As soon as his breakfast was over, the Prince was taken to another door,
+and shown a road which was very narrow at first, but seemed to grow
+wider and wider as it went on.
+
+'You have nothing to do but to walk straight forward,' said Industry,
+'neither to turn to the right nor to the left. Keep yourself upright, so
+that you may have that distant mountain peak before your eyes, and don't
+suffer yourself to grow faint or get tired. If you should have any doubt
+or difficulty, you will find someone on the road who will show you the
+way. But only remember always to keep straight forward, and don't be
+tempted to turn aside.'
+
+'What is the name of this road?' asked the Prince.
+
+'It is called the "Right Path,"' was the reply; and on he set upon his
+way with a stout heart. Nevertheless, he began to get somewhat tired
+before an hour was over, although the road was pleasant enough to walk
+in. There were beautiful green meadows on every side, and
+richly-coloured flowers, and what seemed very delicious fruit; and here
+and there, at a little distance, were pleasant groves, with a number of
+gay birds, singing very sweetly.
+
+At the end of an hour and a half the Prince became hungry and thirsty
+again, as well as tired, and he said to himself, 'There could be no
+great harm surely in going across that meadow and gathering some of that
+fruit, to eat under the shade of the trees, while the birds sing over my
+head. I do not know how far I have to go. I see no end to this long,
+straight road. I think I will try and rest for a little under those
+trees. I can easily find my way back again.'
+
+But just at that moment, luckily for himself, the Prince spied a man
+trudging on before him, and he hurried after, saying to himself, 'I will
+ask him how far I have to go, and whether I have time to stop.'
+
+
+Chapter VI
+
+The man did not walk very fast, but he kept steadily on, with a great
+pike-staff in his hand; and though the Prince called after him as soon
+as he was within hearing, he did not halt for a moment, or even turn his
+head, but trudged onward, saying, 'Come along, come along; one never
+gets to the end of one's journey if one stops to chatter by the way.'
+
+At length the Prince came up with him, and said in a civil tone, 'Pray
+can you tell me whither this road leads, and if it will be very long
+before I get to some house where I can find rest and food.'
+
+'It leads to a very fine and beautiful castle,' replied the other
+somewhat doggedly, and still walking on. 'I think, if you come along
+with me, you will get there in time. I am generally well received there,
+and in some sort may call myself the master of the house, so that those
+who go with me are generally made welcome by my lady, who, though she is
+sometimes a little whimsical, is the most charming person in the world
+when she smiles upon me. But you must keep on steadily with me; for if
+you stop or turn aside, a thousand to one you will be lost.'
+
+When the Prince found him so communicative, he asked him if they could
+not cross one of the meadows to refresh themselves a little, and told
+him how he had been tempted to do so just before he saw him.
+
+'Lucky you did not,' answered the other; 'for those meadows are full of
+swamps and quagmires, the groves filled with snakes, and many of the
+fruits poisonous. You might have got yourself into such troubles that
+not even I could have helped you out of them.'
+
+'If it is not improper, may I ask your name?' said the Prince.
+
+'Come along,' answered the other. 'Names matter little; but if you want
+to know mine, it is Perseverance.'
+
+Not long after the Prince began to think he saw several tall towers
+glittering before him in the distance, with some misty clouds round
+about them, which only seemed to make them look the more beautiful.
+
+'What a fine castle!' he exclaimed.
+
+'That is where I am leading you,' answered the other; and the first
+prospect is always very charming. But we have some way to go yet, I can
+tell you, and not a little to overcome. You would never get there
+without me; so come on, and do not be daunted at anything you see.'
+
+The Prince soon found that his companion's warning was just. The way did
+seem very long; and sometimes, as they went over hill and dale, the
+sight of the beautiful castle, which cheered him so much, was quite shut
+out from his eyes, and at length, when they were coming very near it,
+with nothing but one valley between them and the building, he perceived
+that the road went over a narrow drawbridge, and saw two terrible
+monsters lying close beside the way. Their bodies were like those of
+lions, very large and very strong, but they had necks like that of a
+snake, and from each neck issued a hundred horrible heads, all differing
+in kind from one another.
+
+The poor Prince was alarmed, and said to his companion: 'Do you see
+those horrible brutes? Is there no other way into the castle but between
+them?'
+
+'There are a thousand ways into the castle,' replied his companion, 'but
+every way is guarded by monsters just like those. But do not be alarmed.
+Go on with me, and I will help you. Besides, someone will come out of
+the castle, most likely, to give us assistance.'
+
+
+Chapter VII
+
+Upon these words, the Prince went on more cheerfully, especially when he
+saw a man come running down from the gate of the castle as they
+approached the drawbridge.
+
+'Ay,' said his companion, stepping on without stopping a moment, 'there
+comes my friend Courage to help us. He is a good, serviceable fellow.'
+
+Just as he spoke, the two monsters sprang forward, and the one which was
+nearest to Perseverance growled terribly at him; but he struck him a
+blow with his pike-staff, which knocked him down and cowed him entirely;
+and there he lay, with all his hundred heads prostrated in a manner
+which the Prince could hardly have thought possible. The other brute
+sprang right at the Prince himself, as if to destroy him, so that he was
+inclined to draw back; but the man Courage, who had run down from the
+castle, put his foot upon the creature's snaky neck, and crushed it into
+the earth.
+
+'Go on, go on, young man!' he cried. 'These are terrible monsters truly,
+but you see our friend Perseverance has vanquished Difficulty, and I
+have trampled upon Danger.'
+
+As he spoke, the Prince passed on rapidly over the drawbridge; and when
+he stood under the gate of the castle, Perseverance took him by the hand
+with a smiling air, and led him in, saying: 'Now I will conduct you to
+my lady, Success.'
+
+[Illustration: _The Prince slays the monster with a hundred horrible
+heads.--Page 86._]
+
+At the very sound the poor Prince seemed quite refreshed, forgot all the
+weary way he had travelled, the dark forest of Adversity, the grim frown
+of Necessity, the faintness and the weariness, and hundred-headed
+Difficulty and Danger. But he was more rejoiced still when, on entering
+the building, he found himself suddenly, all at once, in the great hall
+of his own palace of Prosperity, with a beautiful lady, all smiles,
+standing ready to receive him with a crown in her hand.
+
+'Come hither, Prince,' she said, 'and receive this crown, which I never
+bestow on any but my greatest favourites. It is called the crown of
+Contentment. I reserve it for those who, led on by Perseverance, come to
+me by the Right Path, in spite of Difficulty and Danger. Those who
+arrive at my presence by any of the many other roads that are open to
+mankind I give over to the charge of some of my inferior attendants,
+such as Pride, Vanity, or Ambition, who amuse themselves by making them
+play all manner of strange tricks.'
+
+Thus saying, she put the crown upon his head, and the Prince found the
+most delightful tranquil feeling spread through his whole body.
+Nevertheless, he could not help looking about almost instantly for the
+figure of the ugly little grey dwarf; and, as he could not see him
+anywhere, he said to the beautiful lady: 'Where is that hideous, yawning
+Satiety? I hope he has left the palace.'
+
+'He may be hanging about in some dark corners of the palace,' answered
+the lady, 'or hiding amongst the roses in your garden of Pleasure; but
+he will never appear in your presence again, so long as you wear that
+crown upon your head; for there is a rich jewel called Moderation in the
+crown of Contentment which is too bright and pure to be looked upon by
+Satiety.'
+
+
+
+
+The Farm-Yard Journal
+
+
+    Dear Tom,
+
+'Since we parted at the breaking-up, I have been for most of the time at
+a pleasant farm in Hertfordshire, where I have employed myself in
+rambling about the country, and assisting, as well as I could, at the
+work going on at home and in the fields. On wet days, and in the
+evenings, I have amused myself with keeping a journal of all the great
+events that have happened among us; and hoping that when you are tired
+of the bustle of your busy town you may receive some entertainment from
+comparing our transactions with yours, I have copied out for your
+perusal one of the days in my memorandum-book.
+
+'Pray let me know in return what you are doing, and believe me,
+
+                    'Your very affectionate friend,
+
+                          'RICHARD MARKWELL.'
+
+[Illustration: _She kicked up her hind legs, and threw down the
+milk-pail.--Page 93._]
+
+'_June 10._--Last night we had a dreadful alarm. A violent scream was
+heard from the hen-roost; the geese all set up a cackle, and the dogs
+barked. Ned, the boy who lies over the stable, jumped up and ran into
+the yard, when he observed a fox galloping away with a chicken in his
+mouth, and the dogs on full chase after him. They could not overtake
+him, and soon returned. Upon further examination, the large white cock
+was found lying on the ground all bloody, with his comb torn almost off,
+and his feathers all ruffled; and the speckled hen and three chickens
+lay dead beside him. The cock recovered, but appeared terribly
+frightened. It seems that the fox had jumped over the garden hedge, and
+then, crossing part of the yard behind the straw, had crept into the
+hen-roost through a broken pale. John, the carpenter, was sent for to
+make all fast, and prevent the like mischief again.
+
+'Early this morning the brindled cow was delivered of a fine bull-calf.
+Both are likely to do well. The calf is to be fattened for the butcher.
+
+'The duck-eggs that were sitten upon by the old black hen were hatched
+this day, and the ducklings all directly ran into the pond, to the great
+terror of the hen, who went round and round, clucking with all her
+might, in order to call them out, but they did not regard her. An old
+drake took the little ones under his care, and they swam about very
+merrily.
+
+'As Dolly this morning was milking the new cow that was bought at the
+fair she kicked with her hind legs, and threw down the milk-pail, at the
+same time knocking Dolly off her stool into the dirt. For this offence
+the cow was sentenced to have her head fastened to the rack, and her
+legs tied together.
+
+'A kite was observed to hover a long while over the yard with an
+intention of carrying off some of the young chickens; but the hens
+called their broods together under their wings, and the cocks put
+themselves in order of battle, so that the kite was disappointed. At
+length one chicken, not minding its mother, but straggling heedlessly to
+a distance, was descried by the kite, who made a sudden swoop, and
+seized it in his talons. The chicken cried out, and the cocks and hens
+all screamed, when Ralph, the farmer's son, who saw the attack, snatched
+up a loaded gun, and just as the kite was flying off with his prey,
+fired and brought him dead to the ground, along with the poor chicken,
+who was killed in the fall. The dead body of the kite was nailed up
+against the wall, by way of warning to his wicked comrades.
+
+'In the forenoon we were alarmed with strange noises approaching us, and
+looking out we saw a number of people with frying pans, warming pans,
+tongs and pokers, beating, ringing, and making all possible din. We soon
+discovered them to be our neighbours of the next farm in pursuit of a
+swarm of bees which was hovering in the air over their heads. The bees
+at length alighted on the tall pear tree in our orchard, and hung in a
+bunch from one of the boughs. A ladder was got, and a man ascending with
+gloves on his hands, and an apron tied over his head, swept them into a
+hive, which was rubbed on the inside with honey and sweet herbs. But as
+he was descending, some bees which had got under his gloves stung him in
+such a manner that he hastily threw down the hive, upon which the
+greater part of the bees fell out, and began in a rage to fly among the
+crowd, and sting all whom they lit upon. Away scampered the people, the
+women shrieking, the children roaring; and poor Adam, who had held the
+hive, was assailed so furiously that he was obliged to throw himself on
+the ground, and creep under the gooseberry bushes. At length the bees
+began to return to the hive, in which the queen bee had remained; and
+after a while, all being quietly settled, a cloth was thrown over it,
+and the swarm was carried home.
+
+'About noon three pigs broke into the garden, where they were rioting
+upon the carrots and turnips, and doing a great deal of mischief by
+trampling the beds and rooting up the plants with their snouts, when
+they were spied by old Towzer, the mastiff, who ran among them, and
+laying hold of their long ears with his teeth, made them squeal most
+dismally, and get out of the garden as fast as they could.
+
+'Roger, the ploughman, when he came for his dinner, brought word that he
+had discovered a partridge's nest with sixteen eggs in the home field,
+upon which the farmer went out and broke them all, saying that he did
+not choose to rear birds upon his corn which he was not allowed to
+scratch, but must leave to some qualified sportsman, who would besides
+break down his fences in the pursuit.
+
+'A sheep washing was held this day at the mill-pool, when seven score
+were well washed, and then penned in the high meadow to dry. Many of
+them made great resistance at being thrown into the water, and the old
+ram, being dragged to the brink by a boy at each horn, and a third
+pushing behind, by a sudden spring threw two of them into the water, to
+the great diversion of the spectators.
+
+'Towards the dusk of the evening the Squire's mongrel greyhound, which
+had been long suspected of worrying sheep, was caught in the fact. He
+had killed two lambs, and was making a hearty meal upon one of them,
+when he was disturbed by the approach of the shepherd's boy, and
+directly leaped the hedge and made off. The dead bodies were taken to
+the Squire's, with an indictment of wilful murder against the dog. But
+when they came to look for the culprit, he was not to be found in any
+part of the premises, and is supposed to have fled his country through
+consciousness of his heinous offence.
+
+'Joseph, who sleeps in the garret at the old end of the house, after
+having been some time in bed, came downstairs in his shirt, as pale as
+ashes, and frightened the maids, who were going up. It was some time
+before he could tell what was the matter. At length he said he had heard
+some dreadful noises overhead, which he was sure must be made by some
+ghost or evil spirit. Nay, he thought he had seen something moving,
+though he owned he durst hardly lift up his eyes. He concluded with
+declaring that he would rather sit up all night in the kitchen than go
+to his room again. The maids were almost as much alarmed as he, and did
+not know what to do; but the master, overhearing their talk, came out
+and insisted upon their accompanying him to the spot, in order to search
+into the affair. They all went into the garret, and for a while heard
+nothing, when the master ordered the candle to be taken away, and
+everyone to keep quite still. Joseph and the maids stuck close to each
+other, and trembled in every limb. At length a kind of groaning or
+snoring began to be heard, which grew louder and louder, with intervals
+of a strange sort of hissing. "That's it!" whispered Joseph, drawing
+back towards the door. The maids were ready to sink, and even the farmer
+himself was a little disconcerted. The noise seemed to come from the
+rafters near the thatch. In a while, a glimpse of moonlight shining
+through a hole at the place plainly discovered the shadow of something
+stirring, and on looking intently somewhat like feathers were perceived.
+The farmer now began to suspect what the case was, and ordering up a
+short ladder, bid Joseph climb to the spot, and thrust his hand into
+the hole. This he did rather unwillingly, and soon drew it back, crying
+loudly that he was bit. However, gathering courage, he put it in again,
+and pulled out a large white owl, another at the same time being heard
+to fly away. The cause of the alarm was now made clear enough, and poor
+Joseph, after being heartily jeered by the maids, though they had been
+as much frightened as he, sneaked into bed again, and the house soon
+became quiet.'
+
+
+
+
+The Fruits of Disobedience
+
+or
+
+The Kidnapped Child
+
+
+In a beautiful villa, on the banks of the Medway resided a gentleman
+whose name was Darnley, who had, during the early part of life, filled a
+post of some importance about the Court, and even in its decline
+preserved that elegance of manners which so peculiarly marks a finished
+gentleman.
+
+The loss of a beloved wife had given a pensive cast to his features, and
+a seriousness to his deportment, which many people imagined proceeded
+from haughtiness of disposition, yet nothing could be further from Mr.
+Darnley's character, for he was affable, gentle, benevolent, and humane.
+
+His family consisted of an only sister, who, like himself, had lost the
+object of her tenderest affection, but who, in dividing her attention
+between her brother and his amiable children, endeavoured to forget her
+own misfortunes.
+
+Mr. Darnley's fortune was sufficiently great to enable him to place his
+daughters in the first school in London, but he preferred having them
+under his immediate instruction, and as Mrs. Collier offered to assist
+him in their education he resolved for some years not to engage a
+governess, as Nurse Chapman was one of those worthy creatures to whose
+care he could securely trust them.
+
+An old friend of Mr. Darnley's had recently bought a house at Rochester,
+and that gentleman and his sister were invited to pass a few days there,
+and as Emily grew rather too big for the nurse's management Mrs. Collier
+resolved to make her of the party, leaving Sophia, Amanda, and Eliza
+under that good woman's protection.
+
+It was Mr. Darnley's wish that the young folks should rise early and
+take a long walk every morning before breakfast, but they were strictly
+ordered never to go beyond their own grounds unless their aunt or father
+accompanied them. This order they had frequently endeavoured to persuade
+Nurse Chapman to disregard, but, faithful to the trust reposed in her,
+she always resisted their urgent entreaties.
+
+The morning after Mr. Darnley went to Rochester the poor woman found
+herself thoroughly indisposed, and wholly incapable of rising at the
+accustomed hour. The children, however, were dressed for walking, and
+the nursemaid charged not to go beyond the shrubbery, and they all
+sallied out in high good humour.
+
+'Now, Susan,' said Sophia, as soon as they entered the garden, 'this is
+the only opportunity you may ever have of obliging us. Do let us walk to
+the village, and then you know you can see your father and mother.'
+
+'La, missy!' replied the girl, 'why, you know 'tis as much as my place
+is worth if Nurse Chapman should find out.'
+
+'Find it out indeed,' said Amanda; 'how do you think she is to find it
+out? Come, do let us go, there's a dear good creature.'
+
+'Yes, dear, dear Susan, do let us go,' said Eliza, skipping on before
+them, 'and I'll show you the way, for I walked there last summer with
+father.'
+
+Whether it was the wish of obliging the young ladies, or the desire of
+seeing her parents, I cannot pretend to say, but in a luckless hour
+Susan yielded, and the party soon reached the village.
+
+Susan's mother was delighted at seeing her, and highly honoured by the
+young ladies' presence.
+
+'Oh, sweet, dear creatures!' said the old woman, 'I must get something
+for them to eat after their long walk, and my oven's quite hot, and I
+can bake them a little cake in a quarter of an hour, and I'll milk Jenny
+in ten minutes.'
+
+The temptation of her hot cake and new milk was not to be withstood, and
+Susan began taking down some smart china cups, which were arranged in
+form upon the mantelpiece, and carefully dusted them for the young
+ladies' use.
+
+Eliza followed the old woman into the cowhouse, and began asking a
+thousand questions, when her attention was suddenly attracted by the
+appearance of a tame lamb, who went up bleating to its mistress with a
+view of asking its accustomed breakfast.
+
+'You must wait a little, Billy,' said the woman, 'and let your betters
+be served before you. Don't you see that we have got gentlefolks to
+breakfast with us this morning?'
+
+Eliza was so delighted with the beauty of the little animal that she
+wanted to kiss it, and attempted to restrain it for that purpose, whilst
+Billy, ungrateful for her intended kindness, gave a sudden spring and
+frisked away.
+
+Eliza followed in hopes of being able to catch him, but he ran baaing
+along into the high road.
+
+A woman whose appearance was descriptive of poverty but whose smiling
+countenance indicated good nature, at that moment happened to pass, and,
+accosting Eliza in a tone of familiarity, said: 'That's not half such a
+pretty lamb, miss, as I have got at home, and not a quarter so tame, for
+if you did but say, Bob, he'd follow you from one end of the town to the
+other, and then he'll fetch and carry like a dog, stand up on his hind
+legs, when my husband says "Up" for the thing, and play more tricks than
+a young kitten.'
+
+'Oh, the pretty creature,' replied Eliza, 'how I should like to see it!'
+
+'Well, come along with me, miss,' said the woman, 'for I only lives just
+across the next field, but you must run as hard as you can, because my
+husband is going to work, and he generally takes Bob with him.'
+
+'Well, make haste, then,' said Eliza.
+
+'Give me your hand, miss,' replied the woman; 'for we can run faster
+together. But there goes my husband, I declare; and there's Bob, as
+usual, skipping on before.'
+
+'Where? where?' exclaimed Eliza, stretching her little neck as far as
+she possibly could, to see if she could discern the lamb.
+
+'You are not tall enough,' said the artful creature; 'but let me lift
+you up, miss, and then I dare say you will see them;' and, instantly
+catching her up, she cried out: 'Look directly towards the steeple,
+miss; but I'll run with you in my arms, and I warrant we'll soon
+overtake them.'
+
+Eliza looked, but looked in vain, and, perceiving the woman had soon
+carried her out of sight of the cottage, begged she would set her down,
+as she dare not go any farther.
+
+The vile creature was absolutely incapable of replying, for her breath
+was nearly exhausted by the rapidity of the motion, and Eliza continued
+entreating her to stop, and struggled violently to elude her grasp.
+
+At length, after a quarter of an hour's exertion, the woman found
+herself incapable of proceeding, and stopped suddenly, sat down on a
+bank, keeping tight hold of Eliza's arms, who cried dreadfully, and
+besought her to let her go.
+
+'Let you go!' she replied; 'what, after all the plague I've had to knap
+you? No, no, you don't catch me at that, I promise you; but be a good
+girl, and don't cry, and then you may see Bob by-and-by, perhaps.'
+
+'Oh, my sisters! my sisters! Let me go to my sisters!' cried the child.
+
+'I'll find plenty of sisters for you in a few days,' said the vile
+creature; 'but they won't know you in them there fine clothes; so let's
+pull them off in a minute, and then we'll have another run after Bob.'
+
+So saying, she stripped off the white frock, hat, and tippet. The rest
+of the things shared the same fate, and she was compelled to put on some
+old rags which the inhuman creature took out of a bag she carried under
+her petticoat; then, taking a bottle of liquid from the same place, she
+instantly began washing Eliza's face with it, and, notwithstanding all
+her remonstrances, cut her beautiful hair close to her head.
+
+Thus metamorphosed, it would have been impossible even for Mr. Darnley
+to have known his child, and they proceeded onward until her little legs
+would carry her no farther. At this period they were overtaken by the
+Canterbury waggon, and for a mere trifle the driver consented to let
+them ride to London. Eliza's tears continued to flow, but she dared not
+utter a complaint, as her inhuman companion protested she would break
+every bone in her skin if she ventured to make the least noise.
+
+[Illustration: _Cut her beautiful hair close to her head.--Page 102._]
+
+When they arrived in town, she was dragged (for to walk she was unable)
+to a miserable hole down several steps, where they gave her some bread
+and butter to eat, and then desired her to go to bed.
+
+The bed, if such it might be called, was little else than a bundle of
+rags thrown into a corner of the room, with a dirty blanket spread
+across it; and there she was left by her inhuman kidnapper to mourn her
+misfortunes and lament having disregarded her father's injunctions.
+
+The next morning she was forced to rise the moment it was light, and to
+walk as far as her little legs would carry her before they stopped
+anywhere to take refreshment. The second night was passed in a barn, and
+about five o'clock the third afternoon they knocked at the door of a
+neat-looking cottage, where nine or ten children were sitting in a
+little room making lace.
+
+'Why, Peggy,' said the woman, as she opened the door, 'I thought you
+never would have come again! However, I see you have got me a hand at
+last, and God knows I'm enough in want of her; for two of my brats have
+thought proper to fall sick, and I have more to do than ever I had in my
+life.'
+
+On the following day Eliza's filthy rags were all taken off, and she was
+dressed in a tidy, brown stuff gown, a nice clean round-eared cap, and a
+little coloured bib and apron; and she was ordered, if any person asked
+her name, to say it was Biddy Bullen, and that she was niece to the
+woman who employed her.
+
+The severity with which all this wretch's commands were enforced wholly
+prevented any of the helpless victims who were under her protection
+from daring to disobey them; and though most of them were placed under
+her care by the same vile agent who had decoyed Eliza, yet they were all
+tutored to relate similar untruths.
+
+But I now think it is high time to carry my little readers back to the
+cottage scene, where Susan was arranging things in order for breakfast,
+and Sophia and her sister were anxiously watching the moment when the
+cake was pronounced completely ready.
+
+The old woman soon returned with the milk-pail on her arm, and Susan
+eagerly demanded: 'Where's Miss Eliza?'
+
+'Oh, the pretty creature!' replied her mother, 'she'll be here in a
+minute, I warrant her; but she has gone skipping after our Billy, and
+the two sweet innocents they are together.'
+
+She then went to the oven, produced the cake, and began buttering it
+with all expedition, whilst Sophia joyously ran to the door of the
+cowhouse, and began loudly calling her sister Eliza.
+
+No answer being returned, Susan began to feel alarmed, but the young
+ladies told her not to be frightened, as they knew it was only one of
+Eliza's pranks. But, alas! too soon were they convinced it was no joke,
+but some dreadful misfortune must have happened.
+
+'Miss Eliza! Miss Eliza!' was vociferated through the village, not only
+by Susan and her mother, but by all the neighbours who had heard of the
+calamity, whilst her sisters ran about frantic with grief, crying,
+'Eliza, my love! my darling! Oh, if you are hid, for pity's sake speak!'
+
+Nurse Chapman got up about half-past nine, and, hearing the children
+were not returned from their walk, sent the housemaid directly after
+them.
+
+The garden, the shrubbery, and the lawn were all searched without
+success; and just as Betty was returning to inform the nurse they were
+not to be found, she perceived Susan and the two children enter a little
+green gate at the bottom of the shrubbery.
+
+'Where's Miss Eliza?' called Betty, in a voice as loud as she could
+articulate.
+
+'God knows! God knows!' replied the careless girl, sobbing so loud she
+could scarcely speak.
+
+'How! where! when!' said the others. 'Why, poor nurse will go stark,
+staring mad!'
+
+By that time the poor woman had quitted her room, and walked into the
+garden to see what had become of her little charges; and, not directly
+missing Eliza from the group, which was then fast approaching towards
+the house, she called out:
+
+'Come, my dear children--come along! I thought you would never have
+returned again.' And, observing Eliza was not with them, she continued:
+'But, Susan, what's become of my sweet bird? Where's my little darling,
+Miss Eliza?'
+
+'Oh, nurse! nurse!' said Sophia, 'my sister's lost! indeed she's lost!'
+
+'Lost!' exclaimed the poor old woman--'lost! What do you tell me? What
+do I hear? Oh, my master! my dear master! never shall I bear to see his
+face again!'
+
+Susan then repeated every circumstance just as has been related, and
+with sighs and tears bewailed her own folly in suffering herself to be
+over-persuaded. And the children declared they dare not encounter their
+father's displeasure.
+
+The menservants were instantly summoned, and sent on horseback different
+ways. That she had been stolen admitted of no doubt, as there was no
+water near the cottage; and had any accident happened, they must have
+found her, as they had searched every part of the village before they
+ventured to return home.
+
+One servant was sent to Rochester, another towards London, and a third
+and fourth across the country roads; but no intelligence could be
+obtained, or the slightest information gathered, by which the
+unfortunate child could be found, or her wicked decoyer's footsteps
+traced.
+
+When Mr. Darnley was apprised of the calamitous event, the agitation of
+his mind may be easily conceived, but can never be described.
+
+Handbills were instantly circulated all over the country, the child's
+person described, and a reward of five hundred guineas offered for her
+restoration.
+
+Sophia and Amanda were inconsolable, and Susan was ordered to be
+discharged before Mr. Darnley returned home, which he did not for more
+than a month after the melancholy circumstance happened, as he was not
+satisfied with sending messengers in pursuit of his lost treasure, but
+went himself to all those wretched parts of London where poverty and
+vice are known to dwell, in the hope of meeting the object of his
+solicitude, and at length gave up the interesting pursuit, because he
+found his health rendered him incapable of continuing it.
+
+Nine tedious months passed away without any intelligence of the lost
+Eliza; and time, which is a general remedy for all misfortunes, had not
+softened the severity of their affliction. Mrs. Collier had engaged a
+lady to be governess to her nieces, as her attention had been wholly
+devoted to her unfortunate brother, whose agitated state of mind had
+produced a bodily complaint which demanded her unremitting care and
+tenderness.
+
+Although Emily loved Eliza with the fondest affection, yet her grief was
+much less poignant than either of her sisters', as she could not accuse
+herself with being accessory to her loss.
+
+'Never, never shall I forgive myself,' Sophia would often say, 'for
+having deviated from my dear father's command! Oh, so good and indulgent
+as he is to us, how wicked it was to transgress his will! I was the
+eldest, and ought to have known better, and my poor Eliza is the
+sufferer for my crime!'
+
+Thus would she bewail her folly and imprudence, until, agonized by the
+torture of her own reflections, she would sink down in a chair quite
+exhausted, and burst into a flood of tears.
+
+While the family at Darnley Hall were thus a prey to unavailing sorrow,
+the lovely little girl who had occasioned it was beginning to grow more
+reconciled to the cruelty of her destiny, and to support her different
+mode of life with resignation and composure. She had acquired such a
+degree of skill in the art of lacemaking (which was the business her
+employer followed) as generally to be able to perform the tasks which
+were allotted her; and if it so happened she was incapable of doing it,
+Sally Butchell, a child almost two years older than herself, of whom she
+was very fond, was always kind enough to complete it for her.
+
+The cottage in which the vile Mrs. Bullen resided was situated about a
+quarter of a mile from High Wycombe; and whenever she was obliged to go
+to that place, either to purchase or to dispose of her goods, she always
+went either before her family were up, or after they had retired to
+rest, locking the door constantly after her, and putting the key in her
+pocket, so that the poor little souls had no opportunity of telling
+their misfortunes to any human creature.
+
+One intense hot afternoon, in the month of August, as the children were
+sitting hard at work with the door open for the sake of air, an elderly
+lady and gentleman walked up to it, and begged to be accommodated with a
+seat, informing Mrs. Bullen their carriage had broke down a mile
+distant, and they had been obliged to walk in the heat of the sun.
+
+The appearance of so many children, all industriously employed, was a
+sight particularly pleasing to the liberal-minded Mrs. Montague, and she
+immediately began asking the woman several questions about them; but
+there was something of confusion in her manner of replying that called
+forth Mrs. Montague's surprise and astonishment.
+
+'They really are lovely children, my dear,' said she, turning to Mr.
+Montague, who had stood at the door watching the approach of the
+carriage, which he perceived coming forward; 'and as to that little
+creature with the mole under her left eye, I declare I think it is a
+perfect beauty.'
+
+Mr. Montague turned his head, and regarded Eliza with a look that at
+once proved that his sentiments corresponded with those of his lady.
+
+'What is your name, my love?' said he, in a tone of kindness which poor
+Eliza had long been a stranger to.
+
+The child coloured like scarlet, and looked immediately at her inhuman
+employer, who, catching the contagion, replied with evident marks of
+confusion:
+
+'Her name is Biddy Bullen, sir; she's my niece; but 'tis a poor timid
+little fool, and is always in a fright when gentlefolks happen to speak
+to her. Go, Biddy,' she continued--'go up into my bedroom, and mind that
+thread which you'll find upon the reel.'
+
+'You should try to conquer that timidity,' said Mr. Montague, 'by making
+her answer every stranger who speaks to her; but by taking that office
+upon yourself, you absolutely encourage the shyness you complain of.
+Come hither, my little girl,' continued he, observing she was retiring
+upstairs, 'and tell the lady what your name is.'
+
+Encouraged by the kindness of Mr. Montague's address, the agitated child
+obeyed the summons, although Mrs. Bullen attempted to force her into
+resistance.
+
+'Well,' continued the old gentleman, patting her on the cheek, 'and
+where did you get that pretty mole?'
+
+'My mother gave it me, sir,' replied the blushing child; 'but I did not
+see her do it, because Nurse Chapman told me she went to heaven as soon
+as I was born.'
+
+'Your mother! And what was your mother's name?' said Mr. Montague.
+
+'Darnley, sir,' said the child, and suddenly recollecting the lesson
+that had been taught her; 'but my name is Biddy Bullen, and that is my
+aunt.'
+
+'Darnley!' exclaimed Mrs. Montague--'the very child that has been for
+these twelve months past advertised in all the papers'--then turning to
+convince herself of the fact--'and the very mole confirms it.'
+
+Mr. Montague immediately attempted to secure the woman, but her activity
+eluded his grasp, and darting out at the back door she was out of sight
+in a few moments.
+
+'Is she really gone? Is she gone?' all the little voices at once
+demanded, and upon Mr. Montague's assuring them she was really gone for
+ever, their joy broke out in a thousand different ways--some cried, some
+laughed, and others jumped. In short, there never was a scene more
+completely calculated to interest the feelings of a benevolent heart.
+
+Mr. Montague's carriage at this period arrived, and the footman was
+desired to fetch a magistrate from Wycombe, whilst the worthy clergyman
+resolved to remain there until his arrival, and began questioning all
+the children. Two had been there from so early a period that they could
+give no account of their name or origin, but all the rest were so clear
+in their description that the benevolent Mr. Montague had no doubt of
+being able to restore them to their afflicted parents.
+
+The magistrate soon arrived, attended by the worthy rector of the place,
+who, hearing from Mr. Montague's servant that a child had been stolen
+came with the intent of offering his services.
+
+All but Eliza were immediately put under his protection, but Mrs.
+Montague was so anxious she should be their earliest care that she
+begged her husband to order a post-chaise directly, and set off
+immediately for town. This request was willingly complied with, and by
+three o'clock the next afternoon the party arrived at Darnley Hall.
+
+Mrs. Collier was standing at the window when the carriage stopped, and
+looking earnestly at her niece suddenly exclaimed in a tone of rapture:
+'My child! My child! My lost Eliza!'
+
+Mr. Darnley, who was reading, sprang from his seat, and flew to the door
+in an ecstasy of joy. In less than a minute he returned folding his
+Eliza to his throbbing heart. The joyful intelligence ran through the
+house, and the other children impatiently flew to this scene of
+transport.
+
+To describe their feelings or express their felicity would require the
+aid of the most descriptive pen, and even then would be but faintly
+told, and therefore had much better be passed over.
+
+From that moment the children all unanimously agreed strictly to attend
+to their father's orders, and never in the slightest instance act in
+opposition to his will.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Montague were laden with caresses, and earnestly entreated
+to remain Mr. Darnley's guests. The hospitable invitation would have
+been gladly accepted had not the thoughts of the poor children who were
+still at Wycombe seemed to claim his immediate attention, and so great
+was the philanthropy of Mr. Montague's character that he could never
+rest satisfied if a single duty remained unfulfilled.
+
+
+
+
+The Rose's Breakfast
+
+
+The shrubs and flowers, having heard of the Peacock At Home, the
+Butterfly's Ball, and Grasshopper's Feast, Elephant's Ball, and many
+others of equal celebrity, and having been themselves of late much
+introduced into the assemblies of _Ton_, grew so vain as to wish to have
+a gala of their own. They were aware of their want of the organs of
+speech, but knowing they had plenty of Ladies' Tongue among them, and
+that crowded parties neither afforded gratification to the mind, or
+allowed opportunity for conversation, and as they could shake their
+leaves at each other, as well as fine ladies could their heads, they
+were perfectly satisfied with their powers to entertain.
+
+As all their refreshments were composed from air, earth, and water it
+was determined that a fine summer's day after a reviving shower, would
+afford ample regale for a breakfast, which was to begin, like all
+fashionable ones, late in the afternoon, that the genteel flowers might
+be awake. Mrs. Honeysuckle first proposed giving one, but her husband
+was a Dutchman, and would not agree to the bustle and expense, and not
+choosing the risk of separation she for once yielded, and Mrs. Rose,
+being in high beauty, determined to send out her fragrance to invite the
+company, provided she could procure the consent of Mr. Pluto Rose;
+indeed, he never interfered with the pursuits of his wife; he only
+declared he should not appear, and as he was a very dark-looking rose
+without any sweet she was delighted at this declaration, but, though
+much admired in her own little circle, she was unknown in the great
+World, and she was sensible that unless some of the leaders of the _Ton_
+were present her breakfast would be regarded with contempt; she
+therefore consulted two of her friends, Lady Acacia and Mrs. Larch, and
+got Mr. Plane from the east to secure the attendance of his party.
+
+Lady Acacia had just got her niece Robina from America, whom she was
+very solicitous to have properly introduced, having kept very
+indifferent company in her own country, and being handsome, she aspired
+to settling her well. She, of course, aided all in her power to promote
+Mrs. Rose's scheme, and, by being in a higher circle, offered to get all
+the Forest Trees to attend except Lord Oak; but she knew he never
+condescended to go to such meetings. Mrs. Larch, from her connections,
+promised her influence with all the Cedars and Firs, though she was sure
+her cousin from Lebanon would not come, but all the rest yielded easily
+to her entreaties. Mrs. Rose was delighted with the success of Lady
+Acacia and Mrs. Larch in their solicitations with the Forest and Fir
+Trees, whose majestic appearance and respectable characters she imagined
+would dignify her fête, never considering her own littleness might
+appear to them despicable; but from them she had nothing to fear, as
+they were too well bred to attend any meeting to ridicule it. 'Tis true
+when they did grace a public entertainment they kept chiefly together,
+and never so far forgot their consequence as to oppress a humble flower,
+or stoop to notice a forward insignificant one even in the gayest
+attire.
+
+There was an elegant lightness of drapery in Mrs. Birch's dress, but
+poor Lady Aspen had certainly a very trifling way with her in shaking
+continually her leaves, which sounded as if she was tittering at
+everything around. Old Lord Elm was hurt at it, and often hinted to her
+ladyship how improper such behaviour would have been deemed in former
+times. It was, poor thing, in her a natural weakness which she could not
+amend, and it had been copied by some inferior plants who had ignorantly
+supposed it the height of good breeding.
+
+Mrs. Rose, with all her charms, could not aspire to become one of the
+Forest set, though she had hopes she might be reckoned a descendant from
+the famous Roses so well known in the reigns of some of our Henrys,
+Edwards, and Richard III., though she assuredly was of a very different
+extraction; indeed, it was said that she was bred up in a cottage
+garden, but had passed one winter in the hothouse, by which she was
+greatly elated, and now thought from that circumstance she was secure in
+having a large party from thence, not knowing the prejudice it was to
+memory and sight to be constantly for any length of time in such
+artificial air. Had it not been for this breakfast bringing Mrs. Rose
+into notice she would have been totally forgotten by them, but her
+invitation made them soon recollect the dear little creature, and as
+every offer of accommodation was made to entice them to attend, even to
+the promise of being placed near the Burning Bush: for that whatever is
+difficult to obtain is always peculiarly desirable to possess was not
+unknown in the hothouse. Notwithstanding that most of its inhabitants,
+except Lady Sensitive and a few others (who were really too delicate to
+venture out), all anxiously wished to be at Mrs. Rose's, yet they seemed
+to make the waiting on her a very great favour, and their terms vexed
+her greatly--namely, the excluding of many of the common plants or
+natives as they termed them which prevented her from asking some of her
+old acquaintance and near connections, with whom till now she had lived
+in habits of intimacy; besides she had wished to have shown her taste
+and consequence to them, having thorns enough on her stem to have
+pleasure in exciting a little envy; but being afraid these connections
+should be known she excluded every friend she was requested to do, and
+thus the Sweet Briar and many of that rank were left out, yet several
+weeds had the effrontery to get in.
+
+As the hothouse plants always keep together when they do come out, they,
+as usual, did so at Mrs. Rose's, following their constant plan of
+apparent dissatisfaction at everything they met with, and quizzing most
+shamefully all the company. The greenhouse plants in winter follow the
+example of the hothouse in living in their own circle, but at this
+season mix more generally, though, alas! they were nearly as much
+inclined as the hothouse party to quizzing. Mrs. Myrtle and Lady
+Orange-tree promised to chaperon the Misses Heath and the Misses
+Geranium--that is, such as were properly accomplished by having had a
+greenhouse education; but the poor relations of these two families,
+which I am forced to confess were many, were not asked. Lord
+Heliotropium and Mr. Monkeyplant were their welcome attendants.
+
+The Evergreens of rank were invited, the females of whom are charged
+with being fond of showing themselves, and are usually to be seen in the
+front of plantations. Hitherto they had despised the fickleness of
+fashion, and had never modernized their dress enough to seem thinly clad
+even in the winter, and now they could not reconcile themselves to such
+a change, which, in fact, did them honour, though a few of the weakest
+and vainest among them rather lamented it, but the wiser valued their
+foliage as a great addition to beauty and elegance, and justly
+reprobated the prevailing _Ton_ of transparent clothing as very
+pernicious to health. Mrs. Arbutus was particularly unlucky in having
+sent all her jewels away for the summer, but Lady Portugal Laurel and a
+few others ornamented their usual green dresses very prettily with
+white, and her ladyship was allowed to make a sweet figure, whilst the
+correctness of her appearance gained her respect and admiration.
+
+Many Laurels were invited, but in this country they are so numerous, and
+of such rapid growth, and such flourishing plants, that it was
+absolutely impossible to collect as many of them as could be desired,
+and some old veterans declined attending. The Cypresses in general sent
+excuses, being confined by the loss of a friend, which was thought
+rather an uncommon reason for confinement. Mr. Stock was also prevented
+by a pre-engagement in the alley; he was a remarkably rich, showy
+flower, or he would not have been invited, yet he was known to possess
+more intrinsic merit before he had acquired so many petals. Dr. Yew
+would not leave his church, nor Dr. Palma Christi his patients; indeed,
+their absence was not at all regretted, it being owing to a mistake that
+they were asked. The Ladies Weeping Willow stayed away with the Misses
+Weeping Ash to mourn over the vanities of the world, which greatly
+alarmed and distressed them.
+
+Mrs. Passion-Flower sent her excuses, being enraged she was not
+consulted on the occasion, as she would have deferred the meeting until
+she had regained her bloom. Most of the Shrubs that were invited
+attended, and the Duchess of Syringa and the Ladies Lilac looked
+beautiful. It was a disputed point whether Lady White Lilac or her
+sister was the handsomer, yet some of the party were so ill-humoured as
+to hint they were fading. Lord Laburnum came with them. Some bulbous
+roots were admitted, and Mrs. Lily made as engaging a figure as anyone;
+her headdress was simply elegant, the petals white with yellow stamens
+forming a very rich coral. The sweet Misses Lily of the Valley could not
+be tempted from their retreat.
+
+Lord Tulip was particularly noticed, his coral being diversified in a
+most superb manner, and as dress among _Ton beaux_ now is neglected he
+made a very surprising appearance, though by it he gained great respect;
+perhaps he carried it too far, as marked singularity is never advisable,
+yet a certain attention to dress, consistent with station, is requisite,
+and had it not been for his coral Lord Tulip would have been passed by
+in the crowd, or turned out as a weed. He came with the Duchess of
+Hyacinth, which was rather particular, but it was little regarded, and
+the Duke was blamed for not properly estimating her Grace's charms.
+
+There were some perennials asked, but Mrs. Rose was obliged to forget
+many of them, yet Miss Scabious was there, though not yet come out,
+flirting shamefully with young Lychnis, who was waiting for his ensigncy
+to get out his scarlet coat. Mrs. Rose made a point of inviting Mr.
+Monkshood because she would not appear to have any prejudices, though it
+is well known to be a poisonous plant, but its evil properties were to
+her and her friends of no consequence as they had never reflected on
+serious subjects. She also pressed the attendance of several annuals of
+showy appearance. Intrinsic merit had no value with her, who had no
+guide but fashion, and was ambitious only of becoming a leader in
+dissipation or a patroness of talent, which would be the means of making
+her ridiculous, and the dupe of presuming ignorance.
+
+The annuals, though they flourished but for a short time, were often
+during that period greatly caressed, yet never lamented when they
+disappeared; in short, they were made subservient to the powers of
+others, which Mr. Coxcomb, the painted Lady Pea, and some more were too
+vain to discover, and whilst they were frequently amused in quizzing all
+around never suspected they were deservedly greater objects of ridicule
+themselves. Very few of the Creepers were invited except those that
+belonged to the hothouse or greenhouse, and the sharpness of Lady Cereus
+made Mrs. Rose wish even to have avoided her company, but she would not
+be put off. Mrs. Bramble was very sharp at not being invited, thinking
+she had as good a right as Mrs. Ivy, whom she accused as being one of
+those sycophants that push themselves into high life by clinging to
+greatness, and thus getting into the first circle without being
+respected in or out of it; indeed, there was amongst many of the party a
+good deal of satire. Mrs. Rose herself was a little formed of it, but
+her sweetness was allowed to blunt the force of her thorn, and made it
+even regarded as pleasing, whilst Mrs. Holly was disliked for her
+general sharpness.
+
+[Illustration: _The sweet Misses Lilies of the Valley could not be
+tempted from their retreat.--Page 119._]
+
+All the Auriculas that had been applauded on the stage were wonderfully
+sought after by Mrs. Rose as being now generally in all _Ton_
+assemblies, and they were always ready to accept these invitations, but
+their season of exhibition was now over, and they were gone strolling
+about for the remainder of the year. The Ladies Carnation were all
+asked, and some of their cousins, the Misses Pink, were particularly
+named (not having accommodations for all the family), and such of the
+Misses Pink as came were chaperoned by their near relations, Mr. and
+Mrs. Sweet-William; but the Ladies Carnation were obliged to
+refuse--they were afraid they should not be come out in time, and if
+they were must attend a county meeting with their guardian.
+
+There were no invitations sent into the kitchen garden or orchard,
+notwithstanding the elegant simplicity of many of the inhabitants, and
+the general propriety of their conduct, but they were all voted quizzes
+for their usefulness in society and their attention to domestic
+concerns. They were vain of this neglect, regarding it as a proof of
+their merit, and as they lived comfortably together were happy and
+contented, and far more easy and cheerful than the more dissipated
+societies. Mrs. Onion, it must be allowed, took it as a slight, but she
+was the only one that did, and she, presuming upon the having been much
+at great dinners, imagined she must be qualified for any breakfast, not
+considering she generally was obliged to go to them disguised or hid by
+a veil, but she was a proof of the errors of self knowledge, as she
+thought her scent far preferable to Mrs. Rose's.
+
+The rest of the kitchen garden really wished to avoid mixing with the
+_Ton_, among whom they justly allowed were many very valuable plants;
+every class and order in this country may boast of them. The natural
+soil is good, and much pains is bestowed on proper culture, yet in the
+circles of dissipation there was reason to fear their health and good
+habits might be injured, particularly as attempts had been made to
+disseminate baneful seeds, though hitherto they had been kept down by
+care and attention. Mrs. Apple-Tree, Mr. Cherry, Miss Currant, Miss
+Gooseberry, the Beans, Peas, Potatoes, and Cabbages well knew their own
+value, and despised the weak ambition of those who force themselves into
+company they were not designed for.
+
+Mrs. Rose would have liked to have got at the Mint, but it was so well
+guarded by the Sages that she dared not make the attempt, knowing it
+would be useless, and she could not presume to ask the Sages, or would
+have been delighted to have had them--that is, all the family but Common
+Sage, well imagining how much consequence she might acquire by even the
+appearance of such an acquaintance, yet it was an absurd idea, as she
+had not the smallest relish for their taste or anything Sage-like about
+her, and the wish to be thought to possess talents she did not would, as
+it always does, have made her contemptible to those who really have
+them. True knowledge is highly valuable and respectable, but the
+ignorant pretenders to it only make themselves objects of ridicule. Mrs.
+Rose was fortunate enough to get some of the Bays brought to her, and
+she thus trusted to have her breakfast properly celebrated in a poem
+dedicated to the Rose Unique.
+
+The bog plants had all contrived to be in the _Ton_, and the Misses
+Rhododendron and the Misses Kalmia were greatly admired.
+
+The breakfast was given on a beautiful green lawn, tastefully decorated,
+in the middle of which was a fine piece of water, with a fountain
+continually playing. Around were heaps of various sorts of soils, many
+procured at great distances at an enormous expense. The Buttercups and
+Dandelions waited on the lawn in full yellow liveries, and the Daisies,
+dressed neatly in a uniform of white with yellow ornaments, were as
+female servants to give the refreshments to the waiters, and the
+Foxgloves in red uniforms presided over the whole. The Trumpet Flowers
+were numerous; indeed, there was no other music, and there was no
+regular dancing, though many pretty groups dispersed about.
+
+The crowd was very great, and the company did not leave the lawn till
+late, many of them exceedingly fatigued, and drooping with their
+exertions, and poor Mrs. Poppy was so much inclined to sleep as to
+distress the Misses Larkspur and Lupin that came with her, and Sir
+Laurus Tinus got much squeezed in getting the Marchioness Magnolia, a
+most charming creature, and the Miss Phillyreas away, and Lady Cistus
+left all her petals behind her.
+
+Admiral Flag and Lady Peony were detained much longer than they wished
+in settling a dispute that had nearly ended in a challenge between
+Captain Waterdock and Colonel Jasmine about the antiquities of their
+families, which had so seriously terrified Lady Azorian Jasmine that she
+would have fainted but for the tender attention of Mrs. Lavender. The
+Colonel was certainly wrong, as the Water-docks are well known to be a
+very ancient family in Great Britain. It is much to be regretted that
+there is so often such a mistaken idea of courage even amongst the most
+respectable orders, abounding with the truest honour, and noblest
+spirit, as to cause duels on the most trifling subjects, thus involving
+their families in distress and themselves in the greatest misery.
+
+There was waiting on the outside of the lawn at Mrs. Rose's many of the
+Umbellate tribe, that in case sun or rain should be too powerful their
+Umbels might be useful, and, indeed, many other plants were mixed among
+them. Mrs. Mignonette, the milliner, a sweet little creature, was there
+to learn fashions; she had brought with her one of her favourites,
+Venus's Looking-glass, whom she found of great service in her shop. The
+Nettles, Thistles, and Furze were very troublesome. The Thrifts were
+also on the outside, as Mrs. Rose and they were totally unacquainted,
+but she had given great offence to many whom she had neglected that she
+very well knew, some even intimately, and the Misses Crocus, Violet,
+Jonquil, and Mrs. Almond she did not ask, because their beauty was gone
+by. She had also her disappointments in receiving excuses from many
+whose presence she wished for. Amongst these was Mr. and Mrs.
+Heartsease, most valuable plants; indeed, she had thought herself sure
+of their company, and they had intended waiting on her. At all
+entertainments of every kind they are expected, and they generally
+accept the invitations they receive, but before the day of engagement
+arrives they are obliged to send their excuses, owing to indisposition,
+which keeps them confined to a small circle of friends.
+
+Some of the party at Mrs. Rose's were delighted; others only aimed to be
+thought pleased, but alas! too many were inclined to quiz the breakfast,
+Mrs. Rose, and everything they saw or met with, yet even these to her
+pretended the greatest felicity at what they partook of, and the
+sincerest regard and esteem for her, and were absurdly lavish in the
+admiration of her taste, and after all poor Mrs. Rose was so fatigued
+that she was attended for a considerable time by Doctor Gardener, and
+could associate with no other plant but her maid Valerian, having so
+completely lost her bloom by her dissipation that she came out no more
+this season, though she had sufficient foliage to ensure her life, and
+much more than suited her ideas of Tonish appearance, for,
+notwithstanding the slights she received in her confinement, when she
+could be of no use to the gay world, and her own sufferings, she still
+possessed so much vanity and lightness of manner that it was with the
+greatest difficulty the doctor could keep her properly clothed, though
+he explained to her its necessity, as did Mr. Pluto Rose its propriety,
+but she was a slave to fashion, and nearly became one of its martyrs.
+
+
+
+
+The Three Cakes
+
+
+'There was a little boy named Henry,' said Mr. Glassington, 'about your
+age. His parents had but lately fixed him at a boarding-school.'
+
+He was a special boy, for ever at his book, and happened once to get the
+highest place at exercises. His mother was told it. She could nohow keep
+from dreaming of the pleasure; and when morning came, she got up early,
+went to speak with the cook and said as follows:
+
+'Cook, you are to make a cake for Henry, who yesterday was very good at
+school.'
+
+'With all my heart,' replied the cook, and set immediately about it. It
+was as big as--let me see--as big as--as a hat when flapped. The cook
+had stuffed it with nice almonds, large pistachio nuts, and candied
+lemon-peel, and iced it over with a coat of sugar, so that it was very
+smooth and a perfect white. The cake no sooner was come home from baking
+than the cook put on her things, and carried it to school.
+
+When Henry first saw it, he jumped up and down like any Merry Andrew. He
+was not so patient as to wait till they could let him have a knife, but
+fell upon it tooth and nail. He ate and ate till school began, and after
+school was over he ate again; at night, too, it was the same thing till
+bedtime--nay, a little fellow that Henry had for a playmate told me that
+he put the cake upon his bolster when he went to bed, and waked and
+waked a dozen times, that he might take a bit. I cannot so easily
+believe this last particular; but, then, it is very true, at least, that
+on the morrow, when the day was hardly broke, he set about his favourite
+business once again, continuing at it all the morning, and by noon had
+eaten it up. The dinner-bell now rung; but Henry, as one may fancy, had
+no stomach, and was vexed to see how heartily the other children ate. It
+was, however, worse than this at five o'clock, when school was over.
+
+His companions asked him if he would not play at cricket, tan, or kits.
+Alas! he could not; so they played without him. In the meantime Henry
+could hardly stand upon his legs; he went and sat down in a corner very
+gloomily, while the children said one to another: 'What is the matter
+with poor Henry, who used to skip about and be so merry? See how pale
+and sorrowful he is!'
+
+The master came himself, and, seeing him, was quite alarmed. It was all
+lost labour to interrogate him. Henry could not be brought to speak a
+single word.
+
+By great good luck, a boy at length came forward in the secret; and his
+information was that Henry's mother had sent him a great cake the day
+before, which he had swallowed in an instant, as it were, and that his
+present sickness was occasioned only by his gluttony. On this, the
+master sent for an apothecary, who ordered him a quantity of physic,
+phial after phial. Henry, as one would fancy, found it very nauseous,
+but was forced to take the whole for fear of dying, which, had he
+omitted it, would certainly have been the case. When some few days of
+physic and strict regimen had passed, his health was re-established as
+before; but his mother protested that she would never let him have
+another cake.
+
+_Percival._ He did not merit so much as the smell of such a thing. But
+this is but one cake, father; and you informed me that there were three,
+if you remember, in your story.
+
+_Mr. G._ Patience! patience! Here is another cake in what I am now going
+to tell.
+
+Henry's master had another scholar, whose name was Francis. He had
+written his mother a very pretty letter, and it had not so much as a
+blotted stroke; in recompense for which she sent him likewise a great
+cake, and Francis thus addressed himself: 'I will not, like that glutton
+Henry, eat up my cake at once, and so be sick as he was; no, I will make
+my pleasure last a great deal longer.' So he took the cake, which he
+could hardly lift by reason of its weight, and watched the opportunity
+of slipping up into his chamber with it, where his box was, and in which
+he put it under lock and key. At playtime every day he slipped away from
+his companions, went upstairs a-tiptoe, cut a tolerable slice off,
+swallowed it, put by the rest, and then came down and mixed again with
+his companions. He continued this clandestine business all the week, and
+even then the cake was hardly half consumed. But what ensued? At last
+the cake grew dry, and quickly after mouldy; nay, the very maggots got
+into it, and by that means had their share; on which account it was not
+then worth eating, and our young curmudgeon was compelled to fling the
+rest away with great reluctance. However, no one grieved for him.
+
+_Percival._ No, indeed; nor I, father. What, keep a cake locked up
+seven days together, and not give one's friends a bit! That is
+monstrous! But let us have the other now.
+
+_Mr. G._ There was another little gentleman who went to school with
+Henry and Francis likewise, and his name was Gratian. His mother sent
+him a cake one day, because she loved him, and, indeed, he loved her
+also very much. It was no sooner come than Gratian thus addressed his
+young companions: 'Come and look at what mother has sent me; you must
+every one eat with me.' They scarcely needed such a welcome piece of
+information twice, but all got round the cake, as you have doubtless
+seen the bees resorting to a flower just blown. As Gratian was provided
+with a knife, he cut a great piece off, and then divided it into as many
+shares as he had brought boys together by such a courteous invitation.
+Gratian then took up the rest, and told them that he would eat his piece
+next day; on which he put it up, and went to play with his companions,
+who were all solicitous to have him choose whatever game he thought
+might entertain him most.
+
+A quarter of an hour had scarcely passed as they were playing, when a
+poor old man, who had a fiddle, came into the yard.
+
+He had a very long white beard, and, being blind, was guided by a little
+dog, who went before him with a collar round his neck. To this a cord
+was fastened, which the poor blind man held in his hand.
+
+It was noticed with how much dexterity the little dog conducted him, and
+how he shook a bell, which, I forgot to say, hung underneath his collar,
+when he came near anyone, as if he had designed to say by such an
+action, 'Do not throw down or run against my master.' Being come into
+the yard, he sat him down upon a stone, and, hearing several children
+talking round him, 'My dear little gentlemen,' said he, 'I will play you
+all the pretty tunes that I know, if you will give me leave.' The
+children wished for nothing half so much. He put his violin in tune, and
+then thrummed over several jigs and other scraps of music, which, it was
+easy to conjecture, had been new in former times.
+
+Little Gratian saw that while he played his merriest airs, a tear would
+now and then roll down his cheeks, on which he stopped to ask him why he
+wept?
+
+'Because,' said the musician, 'I am very hungry. I have no one in the
+world that will give my dog or me a bit of anything to eat. I wish I
+could but work, and get for both of us a morsel of something; but I have
+lost my strength and sight. Alas! I laboured hard till I was old, and
+now I want bread.'
+
+The generous Gratian, hearing this, wept too. He did not say a word, but
+ran to fetch the cake which he had designed to eat himself. He brought
+it out with joy, and, as he ran along, began: 'Here, good old man, here
+is some cake for you.'
+
+'Where?' replied the poor musician, feeling with his hands; 'where is
+it? For I am blind, and cannot see you.'
+
+Gratian put the cake into his hand, when, laying down his fiddle on the
+ground, he wiped his eyes, and then began to eat. At every piece he put
+into his mouth, he gave his faithful little dog a bit, who came and ate
+out of his hand; and Gratian, standing by him, smiled with pleasure at
+the thought of having fed the poor old man when he was hungry.
+
+_Percival._ Oh, the good, good Gratian! Let me have your knife, father.
+
+_Mr. G._ Here, Percival; but why my knife?
+
+[Illustration: _'I will play you all the pretty tunes that I know, if
+you will give me leave.'--Page 132._]
+
+_Percival._ I will tell you. I have only nibbled here a little of my
+cake, so pleased I was in listening to you! So I will cut it smooth.
+There, see how well I have ordered it! These scraps, together with the
+currants, will be more than I shall want for breakfast; and the first
+poor man that I meet going home shall have the rest, even though he
+should not play upon the violin.
+
+
+
+
+Amendment
+
+
+Charles Grant lived in a good house, and wore fine clothes, and had a
+great many pretty toys to play with; yet Charles was seldom happy or
+pleased; for he was never good. He did not mind what his mother said to
+him, and would not learn to read, though he was now seven years old.
+
+He called the servants names, pinched and beat his little sister Clara,
+and took away her playthings, and was not kind and good to her, as a
+brother should be. 'Oh, what a sad boy Charles is!' was his mother's
+daily bitter exclamation.
+
+His father was a proud, bad man, who let Charles have his own way,
+because he was his only son, and he thought him handsome. But how could
+anyone be handsome that was so naughty? I am sure that when he was
+froward, and put out his lip, and frowned, he looked quite ugly. Mother
+told him so, and said that no one was pretty that was not good; but
+Charles did not mind his mother, and was so vain he would stand before
+the looking-glass half the day, instead of learning his lessons; and was
+so silly he would say, 'What a pretty little boy I am! I am glad I am
+not a shabby boy, like Giles Bloomfield, our cowboy.' At such times his
+mother would say to him: 'I wish, Charles, you were only half as good as
+Giles; he is not much older than you, yet he can read in the Bible quite
+well; he works hard for his poor mother, and never vexes her, as you do
+me; and when he comes home of an evening, he nurses the baby, and is
+kind to all his sisters. I dare say he never pinched nor beat any of
+them in his life.'
+
+'Oh!' said that wicked Charles, 'I hate him for all that, for he wears
+ragged clothes, and has no toys to play with.'
+
+'Oh fie, Charles!' said his mother; 'you are a wicked boy: have not I
+often told you that God made the poor as well as the rich, and He will
+hate those who despise them? Now, Charles, if God, to punish you for
+your pride, were to take away your father and me, and you had no money
+to buy food, and your clothes became old and ragged, you would then be a
+poor, shabby boy, and worse off than Giles; for you could not earn your
+own living, as he does; and you would consequently be starved to death
+if God did not take care of you. And if, while you were rich, you hated
+the poor, how could you expect God to care for you when you grew poor,
+like those you had scorned?'
+
+But Charles, however, was so naughty he would not stay to hear what his
+mother said, but ran away into the fields.
+
+Then Charles's mother was so vexed that she could not help crying at his
+being such a wicked, proud boy; and she could not sleep all that night
+for the grief his conduct had occasioned her. The next day she was
+forced to take a long journey, to visit a friend who was very ill, and
+who lived in London. She was very sorry to leave her children, for she
+knew if Charles behaved naughty when she was with him, he would be a sad
+boy indeed when he was left to himself, and had none to correct him and
+tell him of his faults.
+
+When the carriage that was to take Mrs. Grant to London drove to the
+door, she kissed her children a great many times, and begged that they
+would be very good while she was away from them.
+
+'You, my dear Clara, I know, will mind what nurse says to you, and will
+try to be good while I am gone; for you know that God will see
+everything you do amiss, if I do not; and I hope you will never forget
+to say your prayers to Him night and morning.'
+
+Clara kissed her dear mother, and promised that she would attend to all
+she said; and her mother was satisfied, for she knew that Clara never
+told stories, though she was but a little girl.
+
+Then Mrs. Grant turned to Charles, and said: 'As for you, Charles, I
+cannot help feeling great pain at leaving you; for you are such a bad,
+wilful boy that I shall not have a happy moment whilst I am away from
+you, lest you should do anything amiss. But if you love me, you will try
+to be good; and whenever you are about to do anything wrong, say to
+yourself, "How much this would grieve my poor mother if she knew it! and
+how much it will offend God, who does see, and knows, not only
+everything I do, but even my most secret thoughts! And He will one day
+bring me to an account for all I do or say against His holy will and my
+kind parents' commands."'
+
+Charles, who knew he was a bad boy, hung down his head, for he did not
+like to be told of his faults.
+
+Then his mother said: 'My dear Charles, do try and be good, and I will
+love you dearly.'
+
+'But what will you bring me from London,' said Charles, 'if I am a good
+boy? for I never will behave well for nothing.'
+
+'Do you call the love of God and of dear mother nothing?' said Clara; 'I
+will behave well, even if mother forgets to bring me the great wax doll,
+and the chest of drawers to keep her clothes in, which she told me about
+yesterday.'
+
+Mrs. Grant smiled fondly on her little girl, but made no reply to
+Charles; and soon the coach drove away from the door.
+
+Charles was very glad when his mother was gone, and he said: 'Now mother
+is gone to London, I will do just as I please: I will learn no ugly
+lessons, but play all day long. How happy I shall be! I hope mother may
+not come for a whole month.'
+
+But Charles soon found he was not so happy as he thought he should have
+been; he did not know the reason, but I will tell you why he was not
+happy. No one can be happy who is not good, and Charles was so naughty
+as to resolve not to obey his kind mother, who loved him so much.
+
+Charles brought out all his toys to play with, but he soon grew weary of
+them, and he kicked them under the table, saying, 'Nasty dull toys, I
+hate you, for you do not amuse me or make me happy. I will go to father,
+and ask him to give me something to please me that I am not used to.'
+
+But father was busy with some friends in the study, and could not attend
+to his wants. Charles was a rude, tiresome boy; so he stood by his
+father, and shook his chair, and pulled his sleeve, and teazed him so
+much that his father at last grew angry, and turned him out of the room.
+
+Then Charles stood and kicked at the door, and screamed with all his
+might, when one of the gentlemen said to him: 'If you were my little
+boy, I would give you something to cry for.' So Charles's father told
+him if he did not go away, he would come out of the study and whip him.
+
+When Charles heard this, he ran away, for he was afraid of being beaten;
+but, instead of playing quietly with his toys, he went and laid under
+the great table in the hall and sulked and fretted till dinner-time.
+
+When nurse came to call him to dinner, he said: 'I won't come. Go away,
+ugly nurse!'
+
+Then said nurse: 'Master Charles, if you like to punish yourself by
+going without your dinner, no one will prevent you, I am sure.'
+
+Then Charles began to cry aloud, and tried to tear nurse's apron; but
+nurse told him he was a bad boy, and left him.
+
+Now, when Clara sat down to dinner, she said to nurse: 'Where is brother
+Charles? Why is he not here?'
+
+'Miss Clara, he is a naughty child,' said nurse, 'and chooses to go
+without his dinner, thinking to vex us; but he hurts no one but himself
+with his perverse temper.'
+
+'Then,' said Clara, 'I do not like to dine while Charles goes without;
+so I will try and persuade him to come and eat some pie.'
+
+'Well, Miss Clara,' said nurse, 'you may go, if you please; but I would
+leave the bad boy to himself.'
+
+When Clara came to Charles, and asked him if he would come and eat his
+dinner, he poked out his head, and made such an ugly face that she was
+quite frightened at him, and ran away.
+
+Nurse did not take the trouble of calling him to tea; and, though he was
+very hungry, he was too sulky to come without being asked; so he lay
+under the table, and cried aloud till bedtime. But when it grew dark, he
+was afraid to stay by himself, for bad children are always fearful; so
+he came upstairs and said in a cross, rude tone of voice: 'Nurse, give
+me something to eat.'
+
+Nurse said: 'Master Charles, if you had been good, you would have had
+some chicken and some apple-pie for your dinner, and bread and butter
+and cake for your tea; but as you were such a bad boy, and would not
+come to your meals, I shall only give you a piece of dry bread and a cup
+of milk, and you do not deserve even that.'
+
+Then Charles made one of his very worst faces, and threw the bread on
+the ground, and spilt the milk.
+
+Nurse told him that there were many poor children in the world who would
+be glad of the smallest morsel of what he so much despised, and that the
+time would come when he might want the very worst bit of it; and she
+bade him kneel down and say his prayers, and ask God to forgive him for
+having been such a wicked boy all day.
+
+But Charles did not mind what she said, and went crying to bed. Thus
+ended the first day of Charles Grant's happiness.
+
+He awoke very early the next morning, and told nurse to get him his
+breakfast, for he was very hungry. But nurse said he must wait till
+eight o'clock, which was the breakfast hour.
+
+He now found it was of no use sulking, as no one seemed to care for his
+tempers; so he looked about for something to eat, but found nothing but
+the piece of bread he had thrown on the ground the night before; and he
+was glad to eat that, and only wished there had been more of it.
+
+As soon as breakfast was over, Clara brought her books, and began to
+learn her lessons, and nurse asked Charles if he would do the same. But
+Charles said, 'No, indeed! I do not mean to learn any lessons while
+mother is away, for I mean to please myself and be happy.'
+
+'You did as you pleased yesterday, Master Charles,' said nurse; 'yet I
+do not think you were so very happy, unless happiness consists in lying
+under a table and crying all day, and going without dinner and tea,
+merely to indulge a sullen, froward temper.'
+
+Now, Charles hated to be told of his faults, so he left nurse, and went
+into the garden to try and amuse himself. When there, instead of keeping
+in the walks, as he ought to have done, he ran on the beds, trampled
+down the flowers, and pulled the blossoms from the fruit-trees.
+
+The gardener's boy earnestly requested Charles not to do so much
+mischief; but Charles told him he was a gentleman's son, and would do as
+he pleased. So he again ran over the new-raked borders, and pulled up
+the flowers; and the poor boy was sadly vexed to see his nice work all
+spoiled.
+
+Charles did not care for that, and would have behaved still worse, had
+not the gardener, who then came up, taken him in his arms, and carried
+him into the house, in spite of his kicking and screaming. He cried for
+a long time, and made a sad noise; but, finding that no one paid any
+regard to him, he became quiet, and went into the nursery, and asked
+Clara to come and play with him.
+
+'I cannot come just now, brother Charles,' said she; 'for I want to
+finish this frock that I am making for Giles Bloomfield's little
+sister.'
+
+'I am sure,' said Charles, 'if I were you, I would much rather play than
+sit still and sew.'
+
+'Not if you knew what pleasure there is in doing good,' said Clara; 'but
+if you will wait till I have finished it, you shall go with me and give
+it to the poor woman, and then you will see how pleased she will be, and
+how nicely the baby will look when she is dressed in this pretty frock,
+instead of her old faded, ragged one.'
+
+[Illustration: _Had not the gardener, who then came up, taken him in his
+arms, and carried him into the house, in spite of his kicking and
+screaming.--Page 142._]
+
+Charles did not know how to amuse himself, so he sat down on his little
+stool, and watched his sister while she worked.
+
+When Clara had finished making the frock, she said: 'Thank you, dear
+nurse, for cutting out and fixing the frock for me.' So she threw her
+arms round nurse's neck, and kissed her cheek; and nurse put on Clara's
+tippet and her new bonnet, and walked with Charles and her to Dame
+Bloomfield's cottage.
+
+The good woman took the baby out of the cradle, and laid it on Clara's
+lap, and Clara had the pleasure of dressing it herself in the nice new
+frock; and the baby looked so neat and pretty, and the poor mother was
+so pleased, that Clara was much happier than if she had spent her time
+in playing or working for her doll.
+
+While Clara was nursing and caressing the baby, Charles went into the
+little garden, where he found Giles Bloomfield, who had just returned
+from working in the fields, with a beautiful milk-white rabbit in his
+arms, which he had taken out of the hutch, and was nursing with much
+affection.
+
+'Oh, what a pretty rabbit!' said Charles. 'Giles, will you sell it to
+me?'
+
+'No, Master Charles,' said Giles, 'I cannot sell my pretty Snowball.'
+
+'And why not?' asked Charles in a fretful tone.
+
+'Because, Master Charles, the old doe, its mother, died when Snowball
+was only a week old, and I reared it by feeding it with warm milk and
+bran; and it is now so fond of me that I would not part with it for a
+great deal.'
+
+So saying, he stroked his pretty favourite, who licked his hand all
+over, and rubbed her soft white head against his fingers.
+
+Then Giles said: 'My dear Snowball, I would not sell you for the world.'
+
+'But you shall sell Snowball to me,' said Charles, making one of his
+ugly faces. 'I will give you a shilling for her; and if you do not let
+me carry her home this very day, I will tell father of you, and he will
+turn you out of the cottage.'
+
+When Giles's mother heard Charles say so, she came out of the house, and
+said: 'Pray, Giles, let Master Charles have the rabbit.'
+
+'Dear mother,' said Giles, 'Master Charles has a pony and a dog, and a
+great many fine toys to play with, and I have only my pretty Snowball;
+and it will break my heart to part with her.'
+
+'Then,' said his mother, 'would you rather see your mother and sisters
+turned out of doors than part with your rabbit? You know, Giles, that I
+had so many expenses with your poor father's illness and death that I
+have not paid the rent due last quarter-day; and you know it is in our
+landlord's power to turn us into the streets to-morrow.
+
+'Well, mother,' cried Giles, bursting into tears, 'Master Charles must
+have the rabbit. But oh!' continued he, 'he does not love you as I do,
+my pretty Snowball; he will not feed and take care of you as I have
+done, and you will soon die, and I shall never see you again.' And his
+tears fell fast on the white head of his little pet as he spoke.
+
+Clara was quite grieved, and begged her naughty brother not to deprive
+poor Giles of his rabbit; but Charles was a wicked and covetous boy; he
+therefore took Snowball from Giles, and carried her home in his arms,
+and put her in a box. He went into the fields and gathered some green
+herbs for her to eat, and said: 'I am glad I have got Snowball; now I
+shall be quite happy.'
+
+But how could Charles be happy when he had broken God's holy
+commandment, which says, 'Thou shalt not covet'? Nurse and Clara told
+him so, and begged him to give Snowball back again to Giles. But Charles
+said he would not, for he meant to keep her all his life; but the next
+morning, when he went into the stable to look at her, he found her
+stretched at the bottom of the box. He called her, but Snowball did not
+stir; he then took her out of the box to see what ailed her; but she was
+quite cold and dead.
+
+Oh dear! how Charles did cry! But it was of no use. He had better not
+have taken her away from Giles, for he did not know what to feed her
+with, and had given her among the greens he had gathered a herb called
+hemlock, which is poisonous and will kill whatever eats of it; and it
+had killed poor Snowball.
+
+The coachman told Charles so when he saw how swollen she was, and
+Charles cried the more. Giles cried too when he heard what a sad death
+poor Snowball had died; but he had been a good dutiful boy in parting
+with her when his mother wished it, though it had cost him much pain and
+many tears.
+
+Well, Charles's mother was gone a long time, more than a month, and it
+would quite shock you to be told how naughty Charles was all that time;
+at last a letter came to say she was very ill, and then another to tell
+them she was dead.
+
+What would Charles then have given if he had not grieved her so often
+with his perverse temper and wicked conduct? He now said when he saw her
+again, he would beg her to forgive him; but when Charles did see his
+poor mother again she was in her coffin and could not hear him; and he
+cried exceedingly, and wished he had been good. Clara, though she cried
+as much as Charles for her dear mother, was glad she had obeyed her, and
+been so good while she was away.
+
+'And I will always be as good as if dear mother could see me, and love
+me for it too,' said she to nurse the day after her mother was buried.
+
+'My dear young lady,' said nurse, 'your mother _will_ see it, and love
+you for doing your duty.'
+
+'How can dear mother see me? Her eyes are closed, and she is in the dark
+grave,' said Clara.
+
+'But she will see you from heaven, Miss Clara, where she is gone to
+receive the reward of her good conduct in this world; for though her
+body is in the earth, her spirit is in heaven.'
+
+'And shall I never see my own dear mother again?' said Clara.
+
+'Yes, Miss Clara; if you are good, you will go to heaven when you die,
+and become an angel like her.'
+
+'Then,' said Clara, 'I will pray to God to make me good, and when I am
+going to do anything wrong I will say to myself, "If I do this, I shall
+never go to heaven, and see my dear mother when I die."'
+
+'I wish,' said nurse, 'that Master Charles was like you, and would try
+to be good.'
+
+But though Charles was sometimes sorry for his bad behaviour, he did not
+try to mend, because he thought it was too much trouble to be good, and
+said he did not care, because he was the son of a gentleman.
+
+Charles did not know that at this very time his father had spent all his
+money, and owed a great many debts to different people; and at last he
+ran away that he might not be put in prison; and the people to whom he
+owed so much money came and seized his fine house and gardens, and the
+coach, and all the furniture, and sold them by auction, to raise money
+to pay the debts; so Charles found that, instead of being rich, he was
+now very, very poor.
+
+When the auction was over and all the things were sold, and it was
+getting quite dark (for it was in the month of November), Clara and
+Charles stood in one of the empty parlours, and wondered what they
+should do for supper, and where they should sleep that night; for all
+the beds were sold, and they saw the servants go away one after another.
+
+At last nurse came in with her bonnet and cloak, and said: 'Miss Clara,
+I am going away to my own cottage, and as you have always been a kind,
+good child, you shall go with me, and I will take care of you.'
+
+Then Clara said, 'Thank you; but will you not take Charles also?'
+
+'No,' said nurse; 'he has always been such a proud, bad boy that I will
+not take him. I have very little to spare, for I am a poor woman, and
+what I have is not more than will keep my own children and you, Miss
+Clara.'
+
+Saying this, she got into the cart, and took Clara on her lap, and one
+of the footmen got in after her, and drove away from the door.
+
+Charles stood on the step of the door, and looked after them till they
+were out of sight; and then he began to cry as if his heart would break.
+The servant of the gentleman who had purchased the house came and locked
+the door, so Charles could not get in any more, and he sat down on the
+stone steps, and covered his face with his hands, and cried bitterly.
+
+'Unhappy child that I am,' sobbed he; 'what will become of me? Oh, if I
+had but been good like Clara, I should have found a friend, as she has;
+but no one cares what becomes of me, because I have been so wicked. I
+used to despise the poor, and God, to punish me, has made me poor
+indeed.'
+
+It was very cold, and the snow began to fall fast, and it grew quite
+dark. Charles rested his head on his knees, and was afraid to look
+round; his clothes were almost wet through, and his limbs were benumbed
+with cold; he had no place where he could ask shelter, for no one loved
+him; and he thought he should be obliged to stay there all night, and
+perhaps be frozen to death.
+
+Just then someone softly touched his hand, and said: 'Master Charles, I
+have been looking for you for more than an hour.'
+
+Charles looked up; but when he saw it was Giles Bloomfield who had come
+to seek him in his distress, he remembered how ill he had behaved to
+him, so he hid his face, and began to weep afresh.
+
+Then Giles sat down by him on the steps, and said: 'Dear Master Charles,
+you must not stay here. See how fast it snows. You will catch your death
+of cold.'
+
+'Yes, I am very cold and hungry,' sobbed Charles, 'but I have no home
+now; I have nowhere else to go, and must stay here all night.'
+
+'No, Master Charles,' said Giles, 'you shall come home with me, and
+shall share my supper and my bed, though it is not such as you have been
+used to; notwithstanding we are very poor, we will do our best to make
+you comfortable.'
+
+'Oh, Giles!' said Charles, throwing his arms round Giles's neck, 'I do
+not deserve this kindness; I have been such a proud, wicked boy, and
+have treated you so ill. I am sure you can never forgive me for having
+taken your pretty Snowball; and if _you_ forgive me, I can never
+forgive myself.'
+
+'Dear Master Charles, do not think of that now,' said Giles, taking both
+Charles's cold hands in his. 'Indeed, Master Charles, I should never
+dare say my prayers if I was so wicked as to bear malice; and, now you
+are in distress, I would do anything in my power to serve you. So pray
+come home with me, and warm yourself, and get some supper.'
+
+But Charles hid his face on Giles's bosom, and cried the more; at last
+he said:
+
+'Giles, I am so ashamed of having behaved so cruelly to you, that I can
+never go to your home, and eat the food that you are obliged to labour
+so hard for.'
+
+'Master Charles,' said Giles, 'that is because you are so proud.'
+
+'Oh no, no!' sobbed Charles, 'I am not proud now, and I think I shall
+never be proud again.' So he kissed Giles, and they both went home to
+Dame Bloomfield's cottage together.
+
+When Giles's mother saw Charles, she said: 'Why did did you bring this
+proud, cross young gentleman here, Giles?'
+
+Charles, when he heard her say so, thought he should be turned out again
+into the cold, and began to cry afresh; but Giles said:
+
+'Dear mother, Master Charles has no home to go to now; he is cold and
+hungry; I am sure you will let him stay here, and share my bed and my
+supper.'
+
+'He can stay here if he likes,' said Dame Bloomfield; 'but you know,
+Giles, we are forced to work hard for what food we have, and I am sure
+we cannot afford to maintain Master Charles.'
+
+'Then,' said Giles, 'he shall have my supper to-night; he wants it more
+than I do, for he has had no food all day.'
+
+'You may please yourself about that, Giles; but remember, if you give
+your food to Master Charles, you must go without yourself.'
+
+'Well,' said Giles, 'I shall feel more pleasure in giving my supper to
+Master Charles than in eating it myself.'
+
+So he brought a stool, and, placing it in the warmest corner by the
+fire, made Charles sit down, and chafed his cold frozen hands, and tried
+to comfort him; for Charles was greatly afflicted when he saw that
+everyone hated him; but he knew that it was his own fault, and a just
+punishment for his pride and bad conduct.
+
+When Giles brought his basin of hot milk and bread for his supper, he
+could not thank him for crying; and he was ashamed to eat it while Giles
+went without; but he was so hungry, and the milk looked so nice, that he
+did not know how to refuse it; and Giles begged him so earnestly to eat
+that at last he did so, and once more felt warm and comfortable.
+
+Then Giles said to him: 'Now, Master Charles, will you go to bed? Mine
+is but a coarse, hard bed, but it is very clean.' So he took the lamp to
+show Charles the way to the chamber in which he was to sleep.
+
+Charles was surprised at seeing no staircase, but only a ladder. Giles
+laughed when he saw how Charles stared, and he said:
+
+'You have been used to live in a grand house, Master Charles, and know
+nothing of the shifts the poor are forced to make.'
+
+Then Charles climbed up the ladder, and Giles showed him a little room,
+not much larger than a closet, with no furniture in it, but a stump bed
+without any hangings, and covered with a coarse, woollen rug. Charles
+Grant had never even seen such a bed before, but he was thankful that
+he could get any place to sleep in, out of the cold and snow.
+
+Giles helped Charles to undress, for Charles was so helpless he did not
+know how to undress himself. When he was going to step into bed, Giles
+exclaimed:
+
+'Will you not say your prayers before you go to bed, Master Charles?'
+
+Charles blushed and hung down his head, for he had been so naughty that
+he had not said his prayers for a long time past, and had almost
+forgotten what his dear mother had taught him; and he told Giles so at
+last.
+
+'Dear, dear!' said Giles, 'I never dare go to bed without saying mine.'
+
+Then Charles said: 'I am sorry I have been so naughty as to forget my
+prayers; will you teach me yours, and I will never forget them again?'
+
+Then they both knelt down by the side of the little bed, and Giles
+taught Charles such prayers as he knew, and Charles went to bed much
+happier than he had been for a long time.
+
+Though the bed was hard, and the sheets brown and coarse, Charles was so
+weary that he soon fell asleep, and slept so soundly that he did not
+awake till it was broad day, and Giles was up and gone to work in the
+fields.
+
+When Charles looked round he thought he had never seen such a shabby
+room in his life. There was not so much as a chair or table or carpet in
+it; he could see all the thatch and the rafters in the roof, for the
+chamber was not even ceiled, but showed the thatch and rafters, and, as
+I said before, there was not a single article of furniture in the room,
+except the bed. How different from the pretty little chamber in which
+Charles used to sleep, with the nice white dimity window-curtains and
+hangings and mahogany tent-bed, with such comfortable bedding and
+handsome white counterpane! However, he now thought himself very
+fortunate that he had any roof to shelter him, or any bed, however
+homely it might be, on which he could sleep.
+
+He thought he should like to get up and go downstairs, but he had always
+been used to have a servant to dress him, and he did not know how to
+dress himself, so while he was considering what he should do Giles came
+into the chamber. He had returned to get his breakfast, and not seeing
+Charles downstairs he concluded the cause of his absence, and came to
+assist him to dress. Charles observed how this matter was arranged, and
+resolved to do it for himself the next morning.
+
+When he was dressed they both knelt down by the bedside and said their
+prayers, for though Giles had said his at the dawn of day, yet he never
+omitted an opportunity of repeating his thanksgivings and praises to his
+heavenly Father for the mercies and blessings which he enjoyed through
+His grace, for Giles possessed a grateful and contented heart, which
+made him look upon that state of life unto which it had pleased God to
+call him, as that which was meet and fit for him, so he worked hard, and
+ate the bread of labour with cheerfulness and satisfaction.
+
+When Charles and Giles joined the family below Dame Bloomfield set a
+porringer of milk and a piece of brown bread for everyone but Charles,
+who looked ready to cry, but Giles put his porringer before him, and
+gave him another spoon, and said: 'Master Charles, we will eat together,
+for there will be enough for both of us.' The tears came into Charles's
+eyes, and he whispered: 'Dear Giles, you are very good.' So these boys
+eat out of the same porringer, and broke of the same bread.
+
+After breakfast Giles went out to work, and Charles thought it very dull
+till he returned to dinner. When Dame Bloomfield gave her children their
+dinners there was a dumpling for everyone but Charles; then Giles cut
+his dumpling in half, and gave one part to Charles, and eat the other
+half himself. Now this was very good of Giles, for he was very hungry
+himself, but he could not bear to see Charles sad and hungry while he
+was eating, and Giles liked to do good because he knew it was pleasing
+to God.
+
+As soon as dinner was over Giles went out to work again, and Charles was
+as dull as he had been in the morning, for all the family were at work
+in some way or other, and could not spare time to amuse or talk to him,
+and he did nothing but sigh and fret to himself till evening, when Giles
+came home from work.
+
+Giles's eldest sister made a bright fire, and they all sat round it and
+talked and told stories, and Giles nursed the baby, and played with the
+other little ones, and seemed quite happy, and so he was, for he had
+done his duty, and everyone loved him for being so good.
+
+After supper Giles taught those of his sisters who were old enough to
+read and write, and when they had finished learning their tasks Charles
+took up the book, and said: 'Giles, will you teach me to read?' and
+Giles said: 'Certainly, Master Charles, I will, but I am sure you must
+know how to read a great deal better than such a poor boy as I am.'
+
+'I might have done so,' said Charles, 'but, Giles, I was a sad, naughty,
+perverse boy, and hated to learn any thing that was good; but I hope I
+know better now, and if you will only take the trouble of teaching me I
+will try and make up for my lost time.'
+
+So Giles gave Charles a lesson that very night, and every evening after
+supper he heard him read and spell what he had learned during the day,
+and Charles took such pains that he soon began to read so well that he
+used to amuse himself by reading pretty stories, and by teaching little
+Betty, one of Giles's youngest sisters, to read.
+
+Still Charles used to be exceedingly hungry, for he had not more than
+half the quantity of food he was used to eat, and Giles was hungry too,
+and grew pale and thin.
+
+Then Charles said to himself: 'It is not right for me to eat the bread
+which poor Giles works so hard to earn; I will try and get my own
+living, for why should I not do so, as well as Giles?' So one morning,
+when Giles rose, as usual, at five o'clock, Charles got up too. Then
+Giles said:
+
+'Why do you rise so early this cold morning, Master Charles?'
+
+'Because I am going out to work with you, Giles, if you will permit me,'
+answered Charles.
+
+'Oh, Master Charles, such work as I do is not fit for a young gentleman
+like you,' said Giles.
+
+'You must not call me a young gentleman _now_, for I am only a poor boy,
+and poorer than other poor boys, for they can earn their own living,
+while I should have been starved to death had not you given me half of
+the bread you work so hard for. But I will not be a burthen to you any
+longer, but learn to work and get my own living as you do.'
+
+Charles now meant to keep his word, and they both went out into the
+fields, and worked together at picking stones off the young crops of
+wheat and clover, and before breakfast Giles had picked up two bushels
+of stones and Charles one, and the farmer gave them a penny per bushel
+for gathering them up.
+
+Then they made haste back to the cottage, and Giles gave his mother the
+money he had earned, and Charles did the same, and when the dame poured
+out the milk for the family Charles saw that she filled a porringer for
+him also, and they had all a good breakfast that morning, and Charles
+felt quite happy because he had not eaten the bread of idleness. So he
+went out to work with Giles again, and earned twopence before dinner.
+
+When Dame Bloomfield took up the dumplings Charles saw there was one for
+him, and he felt happy that poor Giles had not to deprive himself of
+half his food that he might eat.
+
+Charles went out to work every day with Giles, and in the evening he
+learned to read and write. He became quite good and gentle, and enjoyed
+more happiness than he had experienced in his life before. And why was
+Charles happy? I will tell you, my dear children. Because he was no
+longer a proud, froward boy as he had been, but was kind and
+sweet-tempered to everyone, and did his duty both to God and himself.
+
+The winter passed swiftly away, and the spring came, and the birds began
+to sing, and the trees looked green and gay, and the pretty flowers
+bloomed in the gardens and covered the meadows all over, and scented the
+air with their fragrance, and Charles thought it very pleasant to work
+in the fields, and hear the birds sing as they tended their young, or
+built their nests among the green boughs or in the hedges.
+
+One day Giles said to Charles: 'Master Charles, we cannot work together
+in the fields any more; I have got a new employment.'
+
+'But why cannot I work with you?' asked Charles.
+
+'Because, sir, you will not like to work where I am going,' answered
+Giles. Charles asked where that was. 'In the garden of the great house,
+Master Charles, where you used to live,' said Giles.
+
+Charles looked very sorrowful, and remained silent for some minutes; at
+last he said: 'Well, Giles, I will go with you; my clothes are grown
+shabby now, and nobody will know me, and if they did I hope I am too
+wise to be ashamed of doing my duty, so let us go directly.'
+
+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 eightpence 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.
+
+Then he told Clara all that had happened to him since the day they had
+parted, and how sorry he had been for all his past conduct, and he asked
+her who the gentleman was that had brought her into the garden.
+
+'It is our uncle, dear Charles. You know our dear mother had a brother
+who lived in India that she used frequently to talk about. Well, when he
+came home, and heard that mother was dead, and we were in distress, he
+came to nurse's cottage, and took me home to his house, and has now come
+to find you, for he is very good and kind, and loves us both for our
+dear mother's sake.'
+
+'And will he take me home too?' said Charles.
+
+'Yes, my boy,' said Charles's uncle, taking him by the hand, 'because
+you are good and kind, and are no longer cross and proud, as I heard you
+used to be. You shall come home with me this very day, if you please,
+and I will teach you everything that a young gentleman should know, and
+you and Clara shall be my children so long as you continue to be
+deserving of my love, and are not unkind, nor despise those who are
+beneath you in situation.'
+
+'Indeed, uncle,' said Charles, 'I can now feel for the poor, and I would
+rather remain as I am than be rich if I thought I should ever behave as
+I used to do.'
+
+'My dear child,' said his uncle, kissing him with great affection,
+'continue to think so, and you will never act amiss. The first and
+greatest step toward amendment is acknowledging our faults. What is
+passed shall be remembered no more, and I doubt not but that we shall
+all be happy for the time to come.'
+
+'But, uncle,' said Charles, laying his hand on his uncle's arm, 'I have
+something to ask of you.'
+
+'Well, Charles, and what would you have of me?' said his uncle.
+
+Then Charles led Giles to his uncle, and related all he had done for
+him; how he had taken him to his own home, and given him half of his
+food and his bed, and taught him to read and to work; he, likewise, told
+his uncle how ill he had behaved to Giles in depriving him of his pretty
+Snowball, and he said: 'Dear uncle, will you allow Giles to share my
+good fortune, for I cannot be happy while he is in want, and he is
+better than me, for he returned good for evil.'
+
+Then his uncle said: 'Charles, I should not have loved you had you
+forgotten your kind friend.' And he asked Giles if he would like to go
+to his house and live with him, and spend his time in learning to read
+and write, and in improving his mind, instead of hard labour.
+
+'I should like it very much indeed, sir,' said Giles, 'but I cannot
+accept your kind offer.'
+
+'And why not, my good little friend?'
+
+'Because, sir,' said Giles, bursting into tears, 'my poor mother and
+sisters must go to the workhouse or starve if I did not stay and work
+for them, and I could not be happy if I lived in a fine house, and knew
+they were in want of a bit of bread to eat.'
+
+'Then,' said the gentleman smiling, 'for your sake they shall never want
+anything, for I will put them into a cottage of my own, and will take
+care of them, and you shall live with me, and I will love you as if you
+were my own child, and remember, Giles, I do this as a reward for your
+kindness to Charles when he was unhappy and in great distress.'
+
+Charles's uncle was as good as his word, and Giles received the
+blessings of a good education, while his mother and sisters were
+maintained by the benevolence of his benefactor.
+
+Charles was so careful not to relapse into his former errors that he
+became as remarkable for his gentleness and the goodness of his heart as
+he had formerly been for his pride and unkindness, and in the diligent
+performance of his duty, both to God and man, he proved to his uncle the
+sincerity of his amendment.
+
+
+
+
+Scourhill's Adventures
+
+
+There was a review of a regiment of horse at a small distance from the
+Academy, and several of the boys were allowed to be present. On the road
+they fell in with a man who was walking, and leading a horse with two
+empty panniers suspended on each side of it. Scourhill requested a ride;
+the man consented, and the youth mounted upon the horse.
+
+The animal had long been a dragoon horse, and when it became old it was
+sold to a farmer. But it had not forgot its early habits, for on
+arriving within sight of the cavalry the old charger pricked up its
+ears, and seemed to resume the fire of youth. The young men laughed, and
+complimented Scourhill on the appearance he made upon his war-horse; but
+while they were yet speaking the trumpet sounded, and the animal, roused
+into spirit, set off at a full trot, and fell into the front rank.
+Immediately the signal was given for a charge, and Scourhill and his
+horse, with the baskets dangling by its sides, flew off at full speed,
+amid the shouts and huzzas of the whole crowd. The instant that the
+regiment halted the youth slid off the horse, which he delivered to its
+owner, and, completely mortified with his military exhibition, he sunk
+into the crowd, and regained his companions.
+
+The young men, on their return home, as they were about to enter the
+village, saw an ass feeding by the roadside. 'What a fine appearance,'
+said Falsesight to Scourhill, 'you would make upon this noble animal, at
+the head of the regiment!' Saying this, he attempted to leap upon its
+back, but was not able. Scourhill, in order to show his agility, made a
+spring, and easily accomplished what his companion had tried in vain.
+Instantly Falsesight took off his hat, and gave the animal a few slaps,
+and away it cantered into the village, pursued by the young men, urging
+it to full speed, while every boy whom they met joined in the pursuit,
+and every cottage poured out its matrons and children and dogs.
+
+In the midst of this uproar, the Rector entered the village, and was
+coming full upon Scourhill and his retinue when the ass made a sudden
+halt before the door of a tinker, its master, and threw its rider upon a
+large heap of mire. The youth instantly started up, and, without ever
+looking behind him to thank his attendants for the procession, he ran
+home to the Academy.
+
+He retired, and some time after his arrival he wrote a small note to the
+Rector, expressive of sorrow for his conduct, and requesting permission
+to keep his room for the evening. Mr. Macadam granted the request, and
+at the same time desired the servant to say that he was assured that
+Master Scourhill would find himself much fatigued after his brilliant
+display of assmanship, which so much astonished the village.
+
+The errors of a boy must be corrected by corporal punishment, or by the
+deprivation of something which he values, or by his own self-reproach.
+The whole aim of Mr. Macadam, in the education of his pupils, was to
+raise them to that dignity of character which renders the last mode of
+punishment efficient for right conduct. To raise youth, however, to such
+a character requires knowledge, vigilance, affectionate severity, and
+prudent indulgence; and if few boys possess it, let us not complain of
+human nature. Will the husbandman who in spring has neglected his fields
+meet with commiseration when he complains that his harvest has failed?
+
+Scourhill received no punishment, excepting what arose from his own
+sense of shame; but next day the Rector spoke to his pupils, and he
+particularly cautioned them against those pursuits which tend to debase
+the character. 'The rich,' said he, 'owe their virtues and talents to
+society as much as the poor man does his industry; and if the former
+fall into low amusements, they do not become useless only; they
+frequently become vicious, and sometimes they make as honourable an
+exhibition as did Master Scourhill on the ass pursued by the boys and
+dogs of the village.'
+
+The youth was advised to make some reparation or apology to the tinker,
+the particular nature of which was left to his own discretion; and for
+this purpose he was permitted to leave the Academy for the evening.
+
+The tinker had a child, and Scourhill thought that an apology to the
+father and a present to the son would amply atone for his imprudence.
+
+[Illustration: _Every boy ... joined in the pursuit, and every cottage
+poured out its matrons and children and dogs.--Page 163._]
+
+Before entering the village, Scourhill had to pass a mill. A child
+playing on the margin of the stream that supplied it with water fell in,
+and was floating toward the mill-wheel, when the youth, seeing its
+danger, rushed forward, and caught it by the clothes just as it was on
+the point of destruction. Several people witnessed the event, and the
+report that a child was carried into the mill-wheel flew through the
+village, and every mother came running to the place. The woman to whom
+the child belonged soon heard its name, and, pushing in a frantic manner
+through the crowd, she flew to it, and, taking it in her arms, cried,
+clasping it to her bosom, 'My child, my child!' She then silently gazed
+upon its face, apparently to see whether it was really alive, and,
+shedding tears, she exclaimed, 'Heaven be praised!'
+
+After her mind became somewhat more composed, Scourhill was pointed out
+to her; she in a moment put the child out of her arms, and, hastily
+making up to the youth, she embraced him, and gratefully thanked him for
+rescuing her child.
+
+Scourhill, as soon as the general attention was withdrawn from him,
+retired from the crowd, and went to the cottage of the tinker. He
+entered, and, finding the man at work, he took off his hat, and in an
+obliging manner apologized for his conduct. The tinker said, smiling:
+'To be sure, you had a grand procession, but my ass is nothing the worse
+for it, and I freely forgive you.' The youth politely thanked him, and
+just as he was about to retire, he slipped a little money into the hand
+of the tinker's son.
+
+The child, proud of its present, showed it to its father, who instantly
+threw down his tools and ran out of the house after the youth. The crowd
+were returning from the mill; Scourhill had to pass through it, and the
+matrons were not a little surprised to see the deliverer of the child
+pursued by the mender of kettles. The tinker soon overtook him, and,
+having thanked him for his polite and generous conduct, he turned about
+and satisfied the curiosity of those who surrounded him. Scourhill
+received much applause, and while he continued his course every eye
+pursued him in admiration.
+
+Mr. Macadam wrote an account of the preceding adventures to Scourhill's
+father, and the old gentleman returned an answer, in which he says:
+'Your letter rejoices my heart. Make my son Joseph a scholar, but, above
+all, make him an honest man. I know little about your Latin and Greek,
+as being things very much out of my way; but this I know--that a man, if
+his heart is right, can look a fellow-creature in the face; but without
+being an honest man, why, he had better not live.
+
+'When your letter came to hand, I was sitting at dinner, after a most
+noble chase, in the midst of my friends, all men of the right sort,
+downright hearty good fellows. The cloth was removed, and we had just
+sung, _Bright Phoebus had mounted his chariot of day_, when my servant
+Jonathan came in with your letter.
+
+'But you must know my servant. Jonathan is none of your flighty, bowing
+footmen that whip in upon you with the spring of a fox. No, Jonathan is
+better trained. He opens the door leisurely, and marches slowly to
+within four yards of my chair, and there he halts, his eye resting upon
+me. If the conversation is general, he comes forward, and delivers his
+message; but if I am telling one of my hunting stories, he must neither
+speak nor move till he receives my orders. Well, as I said, Jonathan
+came in with your letter. I was in the middle of one of my best stories,
+and, according to custom, he took his station. I came to a pause and
+looked at him. He made his bow, but I continued my story. I made a
+second pause, and again turned my eye toward him. He bowed. "I see you,
+Jonathan," said I, and went on with my story. At the third pause I took
+a few seconds to breathe. The honest fellow made one of his lowest bows.
+I said to him, "Come hither. A letter you have for me? Let me see it."
+(I know your handwriting.) "Carry it, honest Jonathan, to your
+mistress," said I; "for my story is not yet finished. It is from the
+worthy man, the Rector; it is about Joseph; return, and let me know
+whether the youngster continues to behave well."
+
+'One of the company remarked the peculiar manner of Jonathan, and this
+brought on a conversation concerning servants. "I have an Irish one,"
+said Squire Danby, "a fellow with a sly, blunt countenance; but his
+heart is honest and affectionate. Yesterday I sent him with a message;
+he stayed too long, and on his return I was much displeased. 'Where do
+you come from?' I cried in an angry tone. 'From Belfast,' he calmly
+replied. 'What!' exclaimed I, raising my voice, 'you are still the old
+man in your answers!' 'Old man,' replied he, with a blunt but respectful
+air; 'that is just what my father used to say. "Pat," says he, "were you
+to live to the age of Methuselah, you would still be Patrick O'Donnar."'
+I lost all patience. 'Sirrah!' cried I, 'to whom do you speak?' 'Sir,
+did you not know,' answered he, 'I would tell you.' I was extremely
+provoked; I gave him a push from me, and he fell upon a favourite dog,
+which set up a loud howl. Pat leisurely arose, muttering, 'Ay, Towler, I
+see you are ashamed,' and he walked slowly away. He soon returned, and,
+coming up to me, said with a grave countenance that he was determined to
+quit my service. My anger had subsided, and I, smiling, said, 'Why, Pat,
+leave my service?' 'Because, sir,' replied he, 'there is no bearing with
+your anger.' 'Tut, my anger,' I cried, 'it is a mere blast, which is
+quickly over.' 'Yes,' said he, with one of his vacant stares, 'it is a
+blast; but it is the blast of a hurricane which knocks me down.' I
+easily reconciled him to his situation."
+
+'In a short while Jonathan came back, and in a fluttered manner said
+that his mistress wanted to speak with me. Immediately I left the table,
+and went to my wife. As I entered the door of the apartment, I saw that
+she was in tears; my heart sunk; my limbs trembled, and, walking up to
+her, I took her hand, and kissed her cheek; for we have ever lived in a
+loving manner, and I cried, "My dear, be comforted. Is our son Joseph
+dead?" She in a hurried tone talked of a dragoon horse, an ass, a child,
+and a tinker. "What!" cried I, "my dear, has our son Joseph to do with
+dragoon asses and horses?" I unwittingly put the asses first. She
+laughed. I stared at her, and, shaking my head, I said to myself, "Ah!
+my poor wife!" For I really thought that she was touched in the brain.
+
+'She then thrust the letter into my hand; I read it, and when I came to
+the last part I felt that I was a father. When I saw my boy catching the
+child, when I saw the mother embracing him, when I saw them all blessing
+him, my heart overflowed with tenderness, and I exclaimed, "He is indeed
+my son Joseph." My wife, who saw that I was affected, wept, and, while I
+was drying my own eyes, I always cried to her, "My dear, do not weep."
+
+'I then descended to the company, with the letter in my hand, and told
+them that I should let them hear a story about my son. I then gave the
+letter to my friend, Squire Sleekface, and requested him to read it. My
+friend, who is almost as broad as long, has a jolly round countenance,
+and when he is merry he shakes the whole house with his laughter. The
+Squire read with decent composure till he came to the old horse at full
+charge, with the paniers dancing by its sides. Here he made a full stop;
+the letter fell upon his knee, and his sides were convulsed with
+laughter. He began again, and got tolerably well through with the ass
+race, till he arrived at the turning-post, where Joseph was laid in the
+mire. At this place my friend, with his immoderate laughter, slid off
+his chair, and fell with his back flat upon the floor, and there he lay
+rolling from one side to another, while we all stood round him shaking
+our sides with laughter. At this moment honest Jonathan stalked in with
+his solemn pace, and took his station waiting my orders. His appearance
+added still more to our mirth.
+
+'At length said I, "Honest Jonathan, lend us a hand." We got the Squire
+placed upon his chair; we all dried our eyes, and again took our seats.
+When the last part of your letter was read, all was silence and
+attention, and at the end of it my friend Sleekface called, "A bumper!"
+He then gave the toast, "May Joseph honour his father by being an honest
+man!" The second toast was, "May we, without being philosophers, embrace
+every man as a brother; and, without being courtiers, may we ever smile
+upon a friend!" We then drank the land o' cakes, and we concluded the
+whole with singing "Rule Britannia."'
+
+
+
+
+The Journal
+
+
+It was the custom in Mr. Pemberton's family for the children and their
+governess, Miss Lambert, to assemble in the parlour every Saturday
+evening that she might read a journal of their behaviour during the past
+week in the presence of their father and mother. Those who were
+conscious of having acted rightly longed for the time of examination, as
+they were sure not only of receiving applause, but also of being
+admitted as guests to supper, when an agreeable entertainment was
+provided for them.
+
+The countenances of the guilty were easily distinguished. Gladly would
+they have avoided the eye of their parents on these occasions, but that
+was not allowed; they were obliged to appear. Indeed, their attendance
+constituted part of their punishment.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Pemberton always invited company to be present when they
+had received an intimation from Miss Lambert that no faults were
+registered in the journal, which frequently happened, as they were
+children of docile dispositions, though sometimes they acted without
+consideration. Several ladies in the neighbourhood took particular
+pleasure in bringing their sons and daughters to be spectators of those
+joyful evenings.
+
+After the journal was read, rewards were bestowed on those who had
+deserved them. Supper was then served up, which generally consisted of
+dried fruits, milk, with blanc-mange, jellies, etc., placed with great
+taste by Miss Pemberton, who was always required to set out the table on
+those nights.
+
+The repast being over, the time was spent pleasantly, either in cheerful
+conversation, or some amusement suitable to the festivity of the
+occasion.
+
+Charlotte Somenors, one of their intimate companions, was frequently
+invited to partake of their pleasure on a happy Saturday, for so they
+termed those days when none of them had reason to be oppressed by the
+fear of punishment.
+
+The last time she attended one of those meetings I requested her to give
+me an account of the transactions of the evening, with which I was so
+much pleased that I committed it to writing, lest the circumstances
+should escape my memory; and as I suppose it is likely to amuse my young
+readers, and at the same time to furnish them with instructive examples,
+I transcribe it for their use. The company being met, Miss Lambert
+introduced her pupils--Caroline, Emma, Lucy, and George--after which she
+sat down and began to read as follows:
+
+'It is with great pleasure I recall the events of the last few days.
+Although they will not present a perfect model of virtue and obedience,
+they at least prove that the dear children entrusted to my care are
+willing to repair the faults which they have inadvertently committed. I
+trust that the errors which this journal records will be considered as
+wholly effaced by the repentance and confessions they have occasioned.
+
+'_Monday._--Morning lessons particularly well attended. George learned a
+hymn of Mrs. Barbauld's at his own request. A dispute arose between the
+two young ladies in the afternoon on the subject of choosing a walk.
+
+'Miss Pemberton was desirous of winding along the banks of the river, as
+far as the church, that she might see the fine new monument raised to
+the memory of Lady Modish. Her sisters insisted on going to the next
+village, as they wanted to buy muslin for a doll's frock. After some
+little altercation on each side Caroline, with affectionate
+condescension, gave way to her sisters' inclination, though, as eldest,
+she had the right of choice, saying she could see the monument another
+time. I thought her conduct deserved a reward; therefore, after
+purchasing the articles her sisters wanted, I indulged her by extending
+our walk to the church.
+
+'_Tuesday._--George came running in out of breath to show me a
+birds'-nest he had just taken. It belonged to the blackbirds that used
+to amuse us with their song in the grove. "Alas! George, you have robbed
+my favourite birds of their eggs. We shall no longer be charmed with
+their warbling; they will droop, and perhaps die of grief."
+
+'"The gardener told me where to find the nest. He lifted me up to take
+it, and I thought there was no harm in it, as the young ones were not
+hatched, and intended to make my sisters a present of the eggs."
+
+'The young ladies cried out with one voice that they never could accept
+a gift procured by such cruelty, and desired him to make haste and
+replace it where he found it.
+
+'At first he was reluctant to comply with this proposal, but after I had
+convinced him of the affection of the old ones, even towards their eggs,
+and the pains it had cost them to build the nest, he repented that he
+had taken it, and was as desirous as any of us that it should be
+returned to its former situation. He has now the satisfaction of daily
+watching the solicitude and tenderness of the hen, which sits close, and
+we hope will hatch in a few days.
+
+'_Wednesday._--I was surprised on entering Lucy's apartment to hear her
+command Betty in a very imperious tone to wash out all her doll's linen
+immediately.
+
+'The poor girl remonstrated that she had a great deal of business to do,
+and should have no time; but that she would wash it the first
+opportunity with pleasure. Lucy repeated her commands, and would receive
+no excuse. When she saw me she blushed, conscious that her behaviour
+would not meet my approbation. I sent Betty downstairs, and explained to
+Lucy the impropriety of such conduct. "Gentleness to inferiors," said I,
+"is the mark of a good understanding, as well as of a sweet disposition.
+Servants are our fellow-creatures. Though situated less fortunately than
+ourselves, are we to increase the unhappiness of their lot by the
+tyranny of our treatment towards them? Circumstances may change. Your
+father may become poor, and you may be reduced to the conditions of a
+servant. Consider how unkind harsh words would appear to you, and never
+say that to a domestic which would wound you in their situation. Merit
+is confined to no rank. Betty is a worthy young woman, and entitled to
+your respect as well as tenderness, for the many kind offices she
+performs for you. What a helpless being would you be without her
+assistance! She makes your clothes, and aids you to put them on; she
+nurses you when you are sick, and attends you on all occasions. Can you
+forget the obligations you owe her, and command her with haughtiness?
+There is but one way to repair your fault. You have insulted her; ask
+her forgiveness."
+
+'"That I will do most willingly," replied Lucy. "I love Betty, and
+should be very sorry to have said anything to vex her. I spoke without
+reflection."
+
+'She ran downstairs directly and made a proper apology to Betty, and I
+have the pleasure to add has since bought a pretty ribbon with her
+pocket-money, which she has given her as a token of her regards.
+
+'_Thursday._--Emma is extremely fond of keeping animals of different
+kinds in a domestic state, and I laid no restraint upon this inclination
+whilst I observed her attentive to supply the daily wants of each. On
+Thursday morning I had the mortification to find her bird-cages dirty,
+and the glasses for food and water almost empty. I made no remark, but
+proceeded to the room where she keeps her silk-worms. The trays were
+filled with dead leaves, which the poor insects crawled over, vainly
+endeavouring to find a piece sufficiently moist to satisfy their craving
+appetite. From thence I went to the rabbits, and found them without
+victuals, and so hungry that they had begun to gnaw the belts of the
+hutches. I inquired for Emma, but was some time before I could discover
+where she was. At length I found her very busy in making a garden with
+her brother George, so much taken up with her new employment that she
+had totally forgotten to clean or feed her poor prisoners. When I told
+her the situation they were in she shed tears and reproached herself
+with great neglect. She did not lose a moment in making all the
+reparation in her power, but immediately left the garden that had so
+much engrossed her thoughts and supplied her dumb family with suitable
+food and attendance. This circumstance afforded me an opportunity of
+expressing my sentiments on depriving birds of their liberty, and
+confining them in cages, a custom I cannot approve, as it not only
+subjects them to suffer much when they are first caught, but frequently
+exposes them to a cruel death from the negligence of those who have the
+care of them.
+
+[Illustration: _George was despatched to desire one of the servants to
+bring a basket, in which we carried the poor sufferer.--Page 179._]
+
+'Cowper has written some pleasing lines on a goldfinch starved to death
+in a cage, which Emma has learned by heart, and will repeat when I have
+finished reading. Her concern was so great for her carelessness that she
+offered to let her birds fly, and turn the rabbits out on the common.
+Pleased with her intention to do right, I gave her high commendations;
+but informed her that they were rendered unable to provide for
+themselves by being kept in a state of confinement, and therefore even
+liberty would be a barbarous gift to them now. Punctuality in supplying
+them with everything necessary was the only kindness that can be shown
+to them, since they have forgotten the habits of their state of Nature.
+She has been very exact since this conversation in feeding and cleaning
+them, and does everything in her power to make amends for their loss of
+freedom.
+
+'_Friday._--As we were walking through the meadows Caroline observed
+something white lying near a hedge. Curiosity tempted us to approach it.
+As we drew near we found it was a young lamb almost dead, by some
+accident abandoned by its dam. Its helpless condition called forth our
+pity, and we consulted how we should contrive to carry it home. After
+much deliberation George was despatched to desire one of the servants to
+bring a basket, in which we carried the poor sufferer. Cold and hunger
+were its principal disorders, which were soon relieved by the assiduity
+of my humane companions. We chafed it by the fire, whilst another
+prepared bread and milk, that it might suck through a quill. Caroline
+could not sleep, lest the lamb should suffer for want of food, but rose
+several times in the night to give it nourishment. Such kind treatment
+soon restored it to health. It is decorated with a blue ribbon about its
+neck, and is already become a general favourite.
+
+'_Saturday._--George has been so much taken up in playing with the lamb
+this morning that he has suffered himself to be called three times to
+attend Mr. Spicer, his writing-master, before he made any reply, and
+when he did come, I am sorry to say that the blots in his copy-book
+showed that his attention was not fixed upon his employment. After some
+reproof he acknowledged his fault, and wrote another copy in his very
+best manner.
+
+'I have now finished the account of the most remarkable transactions of
+this week, and though I am sensible that it exposes the levity and
+thoughtlessness of my pupils, I flatter myself that there are some marks
+in the disposition of each which promise improvement and more caution
+for the time to come.'
+
+
+
+
+Ellen and George
+
+or
+
+The Game at Cricket
+
+
+'Sit down, Ellen,' said Mrs. Danvers to a lovely little girl of seven
+years of age, who was constantly jumping up to the window, instead of
+continuing to look at the book she was holding in her hand, but Ellen
+continued to look anywhere rather than at her book, and her mother began
+to feel angry.
+
+The sun shone very brightly; it was a fine day in the month of June, and
+little Ellen thought it very hard that she was obliged to sit in the
+house instead of running about the fields with her brother George.
+
+George was at home for the holidays; he was a fine boy of about nine
+years of age, and very fond of his sister Ellen; he would very often
+leave his companions to play with Ellen at quieter games than such as he
+engaged in with them, and Ellen was delighted when he would thus indulge
+her; but on this morning George was with a party of young lads, somewhat
+older than himself, who were engaged in a game of cricket, and poor
+Ellen was obliged to go through her morning's task without him.
+
+'Should you not like to go and see George play by-and-by?' said Mrs.
+Danvers.
+
+'I should like it very much, mother,' replied Ellen in a tone of
+delight.
+
+'Then mind your book now,' said her mother, 'and we will afterwards walk
+down to the cricket-field together. Father will be at home then,
+perhaps, and we shall have a nice walk together.'
+
+For a few minutes Ellen looked in her book; she was very fond of her
+father and of walking out with him, but not even this promised scheme of
+pleasure could prevent her eyes from wandering every five minutes to the
+window, and at length a shout from the boys, who were in the field
+adjoining the house, entirely overcame her resolution, and again she
+made a sudden spring to the window.
+
+The book was a sad drawback to Ellen's happiness, for she never looked
+in it unless obliged, and her mother had always great difficulty in
+fixing her attention on it when she wished to do so.
+
+Mrs. Danvers rose from her seat, and quietly lowered the venetian blind,
+and Ellen again stole back to her seat. She looked out of the corner of
+one of her little blue eyes to see if her mother was angry, and again
+for a few minutes was very assiduous. Presently the room door opened,
+and a servant entered to say that a poor woman wished to speak to his
+mistress. Mrs. Danvers desired that the woman should be shown into the
+room, and she entered, leading in her hand a little girl about the age
+of Ellen. Ellen's eyes were immediately diverted from her book, but her
+mother on this occasion said nothing.
+
+The poor woman came to entreat assistance for her sick husband, who was
+unable to go to his work, and for her little girl, who had cut her
+finger very badly. The child's finger was covered with a piece of rag,
+which was soaked with blood, and tears streaming from her eyes showed
+that she was in pain.
+
+'How was the finger cut?' said Mrs. Danvers.
+
+'In helping father cut a piece of wood to mend Charley's hayfork,'
+replied the child. 'Father fell down in a fit, and let the knife fall
+upon my finger.'
+
+'It is a bad cut,' said Mrs. Danvers. 'Run, Ellen, and ask Sarah for
+some rag, and we will tie it up for her.'
+
+Ellen was out of the room in a minute, for she liked running about and
+waiting upon anyone in distress. Indeed, Ellen was on the whole a good
+little girl, though she could not be made to like either her book or her
+work. She soon returned with the rag, and Mrs. Danvers tied up the
+little girl's finger, and gave her a nice slice of cake to divert her
+attention from the pain she was suffering.
+
+'Is it painful now?' said Mrs. Danvers.
+
+'No, madam,' replied the child, but she still continued to cry.
+
+'Then do not cry any more, and it will be soon well.'
+
+'Mary does not cry so much about the pain, madam,' said the poor woman,
+'as because you see it is her thimble finger;' and she held the little
+girl's hand up.
+
+Ellen thought this could be no very great misfortune, but Ellen was a
+silly little girl to think so, and so she was convinced when the poor
+woman said that Mary did needlework enough to keep her in shoes, and
+with the pennies she got by reading her book well at school she had
+bought two nice pinafores out of her own money.
+
+Ellen looked a little foolish and hung her head. The poor woman and the
+industrious little girl left the room after Mrs. Danvers had promised
+to call on the sick man in the evening, and Ellen again took up her
+book.
+
+'I am afraid you will never get any pennies for reading well,' said Mrs.
+Danvers in a few minutes, for again Ellen's eyes were off her book. The
+kitten had frisked into the room; it was playing with a cork under the
+sofa, and Ellen laughed aloud as she saw it turn round, and over and
+over.
+
+'If you like the kitten better than George,' said Mrs. Danvers, 'you may
+continue looking at it, and stay at home and read when your father and I
+go out into the fields by-and-by.'
+
+'Then pray, mother, put the kitten out of the room,' said Ellen. Mrs.
+Danvers did so, and again Ellen seated herself on her little stool with
+her book.
+
+Ellen now really applied to her book, for she was very much afraid of
+being left at home when her father and mother went out for their walk.
+It was very little trouble to her to learn when she gave her attention
+to her lessons, and at length she got over them very creditably and
+without another word of reproof from mother.
+
+'Now, Ellen,' said Mrs. Danvers, when the book was closed, 'if you had
+attended to your lessons at once it would have been over long since, and
+by this time you might have finished your work, and have been running in
+the field or garden. It is twelve o'clock, but I must have this
+handkerchief hemmed before you move.'
+
+'Oh dear,' said Ellen, with a most sorrowful look, 'I thought I should
+have gone out now. What a happy boy George is. Oh dear, I wish I was a
+boy, and then I should be running about all day, and should not be
+obliged to work.'
+
+'You would not be obliged to work with your needle, Ellen,' said Mrs.
+Danvers, as she turned down the hem of the handkerchief, 'but you would
+have a great many things to learn much harder than you have now, and
+which would take you a great deal of time to get by heart unless you
+were more attentive than you frequently are.'
+
+'Oh, I am sure I could learn them, mother,' answered Ellen; 'besides,
+George has nothing to do--nothing but to play and amuse himself all day
+long.'
+
+'This is not the case when George is at school, I can tell you, Ellen,'
+replied Mrs. Danvers, 'nor is it always the case, you know, at home, and
+I much question whether the days that George sits down with his father
+for a few hours after breakfast are not happier days generally than
+those which he spends exactly in the manner he himself chooses.'
+
+'Oh, I think he is generally laughing and merry,' said Ellen, 'when he
+sets off after breakfast into the hayfield, or the cricket meadow; much
+more so than when he walks with his grave face and his book under his
+arm into father's study.'
+
+'And I very well remember, Ellen,' replied Mrs. Danvers, 'that this
+merry mood of his, which you think so delightful, has more than once
+ended in a flood of tears before night, while, on the contrary, I think
+the grave study countenance is generally turned into lasting smiles by
+dinner-time. But if you continue chatting the work will never be done.
+Sit quietly, and be industrious for half an hour, and then we will go
+into the garden together, and see if the gardener has any strawberries
+for us; I dare say George's companions will like some strawberries and
+milk after their game.'
+
+While Ellen is attending to her mother's directions, and industriously
+performing the task required of her; we will take a view of George and
+his young companions, and see whether or not he is likely to be tired
+of his day of idleness.
+
+George had got up very early in the morning to prepare the wickets for
+the game of cricket, which had been proposed to him by several lads
+living in the neighbourhood. If the young reader is a little girl and
+not a cricket player herself, she must ask her brothers or cousins to
+describe to her what are wickets, and if neither of these are near her
+she must ask her father, who will no doubt be very happy to give her the
+desired information. George had been awake very early indeed, but as he
+had had a strict injunction never to be out of doors before the gardener
+and groom were at their work, he had lain in bed till he heard the
+stable-door opened, and then, hastily jumping up and dressing himself,
+had said his prayers, and was downstairs before the clock struck five.
+He then went to what he called his toolhouse, which was a little shed by
+the side of the greenhouse, where the gardeners kept their
+watering-pots, and where he had a box containing a hammer, a saw, and a
+plane adapted to the use of young hands, and a small box containing
+nails. He had also here a repository of pieces of wood thrown aside by
+the carpenter, and old sides and covers of boxes, which were no longer
+of any service for the uses for which they were designed, and here it
+was that George's day of pleasure commenced. He hammered and chopped and
+sawed like any workman toiling for his bread till eight o'clock, which
+was the hour for breakfast, when, being somewhat hot and tired, he was
+not very sorry to hear the summons to a good plateful of bread and
+butter, and a fine sweet draught of new milk. Young spirits are soon
+refreshed, and George did not sit long at his breakfast; the meal was
+soon despatched, and George again was out of doors and in his toolhouse.
+Hither Ellen had accompanied him for a few minutes to see the wickets
+completed, and, when finished, she had left him, longing to make one of
+the party who were now assembling to their play, and with whom she left
+him to return into the house, and join her mother in the drawing-room.
+
+[Illustration: _Hither Ellen accompanied him to see the wickets
+completed.--Page 186._]
+
+The boys soon began to play, and for some time the game went on very
+well--all was high good humour; but George was the least of the party,
+and not having played so frequently, and not being so strong, did not
+get as many notches as many of his companions. At school he had been
+more accustomed to play with less boys, and perhaps with boys even less
+than himself, where he was the best player of the set, and he could not
+help feeling mortified now that he found himself the worst player, and
+not being able to keep in at all against boys who played with so much
+more skill than he did. Sometimes he would not have minded this, but the
+day was very hot, George had risen early, began to be tired, and, as the
+truth must be told on these occasions, rather cross and pettish. Several
+games had been played, all of which had been won by the set of boys of
+the side opposite to that of George, for as four of the lads with whom
+he played were good players, and the fifth, Tom Fletcher, a much better
+player than George, the consequence was that Tom and his two companions
+were always on the successful side. One of the best players, Charles
+Wilson, then proposed to make an alteration in the sides; he asked
+George to come over to him and his companions, and let Tom Fletcher take
+his place; 'And then we shall see,' he added, 'which plays the best, you
+or Tom.'
+
+'Oh, you think you know already,' said George, not in the best of
+humours, and throwing down his bat. 'I don't want to play at all, and I
+know I go for nothing.'
+
+'The young man is up,' said Wilson's companion, Stevens. 'Never mind,
+let him go; we shall do very well without him,' and he was taking up the
+discarded bat; but Wilson, who was a very good-natured boy, said:
+
+'We do not think you go for nothing, George; but it is not likely you
+should play so well as we do, who are so much bigger than you, or than
+Tom Fletcher, who lives with a bat in his hand, and always plays amongst
+the great boys. I only wanted to make the game more even, for it is very
+tiresome for one party always to win, and the others to lose. Come, let
+us play on again as we were, and perhaps you may be more lucky. Come,
+Tom, take up the bat.'
+
+Stevens looked very angry, and was about to make some provoking reply;
+but the other boys reminded him that they were playing in Mr. Danvers'
+ground, and there was no ground like his in the neighbourhood, so the
+ball was again bowled, and the bat once more sent it whirling back
+through the long field.
+
+'Well done, little fellow!' said Wilson, as George again took the bat,
+and gave a pretty good hit. 'Well done; you'll soon play very well. Tom,
+take care of yourself, and mind your play, or we shall lose a game
+against them now.'
+
+'Not if you mind your play,' replied the sharp Tom Fletcher, who saw
+that Wilson in bowling favoured George, and gave him balls that he could
+hardly help hitting. George exerted himself to the uttermost, and really
+did play better than he had done before; but his party would not have
+got the game but for the good-nature of Wilson, who did not put out his
+best play, and whose party for the first time were losers. Wilson was
+not right in doing this, because, even in a game of cricket, he ought to
+have been true to his side, and played his best. It was practising
+deceit, and deceit is never to be practised harmlessly. Neither was
+George much gratified by his success, for he felt he had gained it in a
+childish manner, and it would have been more honest to have lost the
+game. Tom Fletcher and Stevens were both extremely angry, and both
+declared they would not be beat in that way to please the humours of any
+young pet. Tom said he would be matched singly against George, and the
+other two boys agreed it would be the fairest way, and also for them to
+be matched against Stevens and Wilson, and then they should see where
+all the strength lay. Everybody agreed to this, and the two younger boys
+were to have the first game. Tom was to give George two notches to begin
+with, to which George had no objection, as Tom was allowed to be a very
+capital player for his age, and the two young antagonists commenced
+their game. For some time they went on pretty evenly. Tom was very cool
+and cautious, and George, who put out all his strength, got several
+notches, and continued ahead of his rival. It almost seemed doubtful
+whether George was not a better player than he had been taken for, and
+as the lads who were looking on cried out, 'Now, George,' 'Now, Tom,'
+George seemed to have as good a chance of the game as Tom. But Tom was
+not fagged as George was, nor was he so hasty in his temper. He was not
+at all moved at the show of adverse fortune against him, while George
+was in a complete agitation, and on the very first reverse so put out
+that he bit his lip with anger, and flung at the bowler with great
+violence the ball which he had missed. It took the direction of Tom
+Fletcher's eyebrow, narrowly escaping his eye, and the boy put up his
+hand in agony to his enlarged forehead.
+
+'Oh, I am very sorry, Tom,' said George, who had most unintentionally
+done the mischief.
+
+'Oh, I don't mind a bit,' replied Tom, who was a very hardy boy. 'Stand
+to your bat, man.' And with one hand held to his aching head, he bowled
+sharply with the other, and dashed away the wickets.
+
+'It is hardly fair play, for he was off his guard,' said one of the
+other boys.
+
+'If Tom could bowl with that black eye,' said Stevens, 'I think George
+has no right to complain.'
+
+'I don't complain,' said George, throwing down his bat. 'It's my own
+fault; I was in a passion. The game is yours, Tom.'
+
+'No, the game is not mine yet, George,' said Tom, 'even if you go out
+now, for though you sent the ball in a passion, I had no right to take
+you in as I did. I was in a passion, too, or I should not have bowled
+upon you so sharp. Come, give me your hand, and then take up the bat,
+man, and we will see what we can do.'
+
+'Then take back your two notches to set against the black eye,' said
+George, giving his hand. Tom, however, would not agree to this, and it
+was at length settled that they should go on as if nothing had happened.
+George took up the bat, and Tom returned to the bowling place. George's
+notches increased rapidly, but it was evident the cause of this was in
+Tom's eye, which by this time was almost closed, though the spirited boy
+did not once complain of pain. George requested him not to go on, but he
+persisted in bowling till his opponent threw down the bat, declaring it
+was not fair play, and he did not want to beat in that mean way.
+
+All the boys agreed that George was right, and it was determined that
+the two young ones should defer their trial of skill till Tom had
+recovered the use of his eye, and the bigger boys then commenced their
+game.
+
+It was at this period of the day that Mrs. Danvers and Ellen, after
+having taken a walk round the garden, and collected plenty of
+strawberries and cherries from the gardener, arrived in the
+cricket-field to inquire if the lads wished for any refreshment. George
+felt ashamed, as he remembered Tom Fletcher's eye, and the good-natured
+boy stepped forwards to speak to Mrs. Danvers, and draw attention from
+Tom to himself. The accident, however, could not be concealed; and
+though Tom declared that it was nothing, Mrs. Danvers was sure that he
+must be suffering great pain, and begged of him to go into the house and
+have his eye bathed. Fletcher replied that he had better go home, for
+his mother had a lotion that cured all sorts of bruises; and saying that
+he would be up in the cricket-field again before the other game was
+over, he bounded over the stile that separated one field from the next,
+and was out of sight in a minute. The other lads, who were just
+beginning their game, took some fruit of Mrs. Danvers, but declined at
+present going into the house; and after standing a few minutes with
+Ellen to look at the players, Mrs. Danvers persuaded George to accompany
+her into the house, for she saw that he was not very comfortable, and
+the day was intensely hot.
+
+As they walked along, Mrs. Danvers said nothing about the black eye, for
+she thought that it had happened through some hastiness of George. She
+found by his manner he was ashamed of himself for something, and she
+knew, as he was an honest boy, that when he was in a little better
+humour than he appeared at present he would relate to her everything
+that had passed. On arriving in the house, Mr. Danvers met them, and
+requested Mrs. Danvers to walk down into the village to see the poor man
+who had fallen down in a fit, and inquire if he wanted any assistance.
+Mrs. Danvers immediately complied, and recommending George to amuse
+himself with his sister during the rest of the morning, she left the
+house, and took the road to the village.
+
+'John has not taken that donkey home,' said Mrs. Danvers, as they passed
+through a small field where there was one picking in the hedges.
+
+'No,' replied Mr. Danvers, 'but I wish he would do so, for the animal
+only destroys the beauty of the hedges, and endeavours to make ugly gaps
+in them. It is not at all fit for the children to ride.' And they
+proceeded in their walk.
+
+As soon as his father and mother were gone, George threw himself upon
+the carpet on his back, for he was very tired, very cross, and very
+stiff.
+
+'Oh dear, what a tiresome day this is!' said he, as he rolled over on
+the carpet. 'I wish it was over and bedtime was come.'
+
+'Why, you have done nothing but play all day,' said Ellen. Now Ellen
+felt as brisk and as merry as she had done the very earliest part of the
+morning, and could not help wondering what could be the matter with
+George that he was not equally so.
+
+'It is so hot--so very hot,' said George. The kind little Ellen took her
+stool, and, standing on tiptoe, and reaching up to the top of the
+blinds, at the risk of her neck, at length succeeded in pulling them
+down, and prevented the sun from shining into George's eyes.
+
+'Oh, how dark you have made the room, child,' said George.
+
+'I thought you would like to have the sun shut out, George,' said the
+affectionate little Ellen, with a tear starting into her eyes, because
+George _would not_ be pleased with her.
+
+George saw the tear, and was vexed with himself that he had caused it;
+but at present he was not sufficiently subdued to say he was sorry, and
+he continued to roll upon the carpet backwards and forwards, till he
+rolled over against a small rose-wood cabinet which stood in one corner
+of the apartment. The slender fabric shook, and down rolled a beautiful
+little vase, which had been sent for Mrs. Danvers by a particular
+friend, and on which both the children knew she set a great value.
+George started up, and he and Ellen looked at each other. The vase was
+broken into twenty pieces. Ellen burst into tears, and George looked
+very sorrowful; but the vase was broken, and could not be restored. At
+this moment the door was opened, and a little favourite terrier dog
+bounded into the room, and began to play amongst the scattered
+fragments. He was followed by a servant, from whom he had made his
+escape, for she had been ordered to wash the dog, and the dog had
+resisted, and ran away from the bath designed for him.
+
+'Why, what a piece of work is here,' said the servant. 'Pompey, you
+little tiresome thing; now to come bouncing in here, and making all this
+mischief. What will mistress say when she sees her china broken, and all
+through you, you little tiresome puppy?'
+
+George and Ellen looked at each other for a moment. Had they not been
+well instructed to abhor a lie, and speak the truth, the temptation was
+a strong one, and they might have yielded to it; but they knew that
+although they might deceive the servant, there was One who could not be
+deceived, and by an instantaneous movement of honesty they both at once
+exclaimed:
+
+'It was not poor Pompey, Ann; it was----' Here Ellen stopped, unwilling
+to accuse her brother; but George with great firmness added: 'It was I,
+Ann.'
+
+'Well, it's a sad business,' said Ann, 'but I dare say my mistress will
+not be very angry. I am sure I should not have known but what it was
+Pompey;' and in saying this Ann, who was herself a good well-principled
+girl, silently resolved that her mistress should certainly know how the
+young gentleman and lady 'scorned,' as she said, 'to tell a lie.'
+
+Pompey was now removed, and George and Ellen were again left together.
+Ellen picked up the broken pieces, and then asked George if he had not
+better go and dress himself. 'His nice clean trousers,' she said, 'were
+quite green and dirty from rubbing about upon the grass, and the flue of
+the carpet was come off upon his jacket.' George, however, was not yet
+quite himself, though he was very much softened by the last misfortune.
+Ellen then asked him if she should get some quiet play for him--maps,
+puzzles, or bricks? But nothing would go right with George this day; all
+Ellen's efforts to amuse him were in vain, and at length he resolved
+upon going out of doors again. Ellen reminded him that mother had
+recommended him to stay indoors.
+
+'Yes, but she did not order me,' said George; 'besides, I think I ought
+to go down and ask how Tom Fletcher is, for I gave him that horrible
+blow in his face.'
+
+'But you could not help it, I am sure,' said Ellen.
+
+'I did not do it on purpose,' said George, 'but I did it in a passion,
+and that is as bad.'
+
+'Oh, this unlucky day,' said Ellen, 'and this morning I thought you so
+happy, but I think you had better stay till evening before you go down
+to Mr. Fletcher's. I am sure mother thought you had better stay quiet
+this morning, and mother is always so kind.'
+
+George felt all this, and went out of the room, and returned into it
+several times, from irresolution and dissatisfaction with himself. He
+kissed Ellen, and told her not to mind his being cross, upon which she
+threw her arm across his shoulder, and entreated him to sit quietly at
+home, and not to go out and heat himself and make himself uncomfortable
+just as he was beginning to get cool.
+
+George seemed to long to stay with Ellen, and even when he got to steps
+which led from the hall into the pleasure-grounds, he went very slowly
+down, dragging one leg after the other, half inclined to return, but at
+this moment that frisking little Pompey came by looking very bright and
+clean after his washing, and he jumped upon George, and invited him to
+play. George then gave him a call, and they bounded together over the
+fields and hedges, and were very soon lost to the sight of Ellen, who
+returned into the house, and could scarcely refrain from shedding tears.
+
+George passed with his frolicsome companion through the same field where
+Mr. and Mrs. Danvers had noticed the donkey browsing in the hedges, and
+the animal was still browsing, and picking up nettles and flowers, and
+enjoying his freedom. George might just as well have walked quietly
+through the field, and have left the poor donkey to his repast, but he
+was in a very odd sort of a humour still, and thought it would be very
+good fun to have a little scamper round the field upon the donkey's
+back. He had heard his father and mother say that the donkey had never
+been properly broken in, and that he was not fit to be ridden, but
+George thought that if he could ride a pony, which he sometimes did, he
+certainly could ride a donkey, and at any rate he was determined to try.
+He went back to the stable therefore to ask the groom for a halter, but
+the groom was not in the stable, unfortunately, or he would have known
+better, it is to be hoped, than to have encouraged the young gentleman
+in what he knew to be wrong. So George helped himself to an old piece of
+rope which he found under the cartshed, and, taking a small hunting-whip
+of his own, returned to the field with the intention of having a good
+ride. He had some difficulty in catching the animal, which was better
+pleased to graze at liberty than to be confined, and have a burthen put
+upon his back. It must be owned, nevertheless, that it was not a very
+heavy burthen preparing for him, nothing compared to the great weights
+many, many poor donkeys are compelled to toil under, and never stopping
+to rest, perhaps, from morning till night. Still, the donkey had rather
+been left in the hedges, and many a race round and round the field did
+he give George, and many a time did he kick up his hinder legs in
+defiance before George at length succeeded in throwing the halter over
+his head. The mighty feat, however, was, after repeated failures,
+accomplished, and George felt not a little satisfied when he found
+himself safely seated on the animal. He certainly was seated, but as to
+riding, it was what the donkey seemed resolved he should not do, and
+there he continued to sit, perfectly still and quiet, for some minutes,
+for although the animal had shown great fleetness and alacrity when
+George was attempting to stop him, it was very different now George was
+endeavouring to make him go on. George kicked as hard as he could kick
+with both his heels, and flogged with all his might, but the stubborn
+beast would not stir an inch. He then got off his back, and led him into
+the road, which he had some difficulty in accomplishing, and when there
+he would not go a bit better than in the field. He had no preference to
+the turnpike road, and George, after fatiguing himself, and getting into
+a violent heat by beating and thumping the animal's impenetrable skin,
+considered that he had better get him back again into the field, and
+there leave him. But here again the stubborn beast perplexed him; he
+would not budge an inch, no, not even when George pulled and dragged him
+by the halter till his arms ached so much he was obliged to desist. Now
+what was to be done? The donkey was not his father's; it was borrowed.
+If he left it on the road it would be lost or stolen, and as to riding
+it or leading it away it seemed entirely impossible. He was standing in
+not a very happy mood, and leaning against the donkey's neck, when a
+butcher's boy came jogging along upon his shaggy and bareboned pony.
+
+'Do you want to get him on, sir?' said the boy.
+
+'Yes, but he won't stir,' said George.
+
+'Oh, trust me to making him stir,' replied the hatless, greasy-haired
+lad. 'Get upon his back, sir, and I'll send him on for you.'
+
+George was upon his back in a minute, but with all the famed prowess of
+the butcher's boy as a donkey driver, and with all George's renewed
+thumps and kicks, the animal would not move from the spot where he had
+fixed himself. The butcher's boy was quite in a rage, and he was venting
+his spleen upon the stubbornness of all donkeys, and of this donkey in
+particular, when the sudden sound of a horn made both the donkey and the
+pony prick up their ears. In a few moments a stage coach was in sight,
+and in a few more the horn and the rattling wheels approached with great
+velocity towards the two equestrians. George would have jumped off to
+save himself from being run over, but the donkey saved him for the
+present the trouble. All his energies were suddenly roused, and he
+darted forward in a pelting gallop; the butcher's pony did the same.
+Away they both flew before the leaders of the stage, scarcely distancing
+them by a horse's length, and all the passengers thought that mischief
+was inevitable. A gentleman on the box begged the coachman to pull in,
+but the coachman seemed to enjoy the fun, and only whipped on his
+horses. The pony and the donkey were still galloping furiously, both
+their riders keeping their seats. Butchers' boys always seem glued to
+their saddles, so that there appeared nothing astonishing in Jem
+Rattle's not getting a fall; but how George, without his saddle, and not
+much accustomed to riding, sat so long was something more remarkable.
+Whether he might have got to the end of his race without accident if his
+father and mother had not now appeared by the side of the road it is
+impossible to say; but certain it is that the sight of them diverted the
+attention which had before been entirely given to keeping his eye
+steadily before him. At the same instant the donkey gave a little curve
+out of the line in which he had been going, and most providential was it
+that he did so, for by this inclination George was thrown sufficiently
+to the right of the road to clear the wheels of the coach. The pony had
+given in some few minutes before, and the donkey, having once checked
+himself, stopped suddenly, and stood quietly by the roadside as if
+nothing had happened. The gentleman on the box now insisted upon the
+coachman's drawing up, to see if the young gentleman had sustained any
+injury; and Mr. and Mrs. Danvers, in a state of harassing alarm, also
+hastened to approach the spot.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Danvers were more alarmed than George was hurt; he
+certainly got a few bruises, but he received no serious injury. He
+immediately jumped on his legs, and relieved the anxiety of his parents,
+when, after Mr. Danvers had thanked the gentleman for his kind
+interference, and joined with him in condemning the coachman for not
+having before checked his horses, the coach drove on, and George joined
+his father and mother. The butcher boy was commissioned, with the
+promise of a shilling, to bring back the donkey to Mr. Danvers' field,
+and George looked not a little foolish as he began his walk home by the
+side of his father.
+
+'I thought you had been remaining quietly at home, George,' said Mrs.
+Danvers.
+
+'And certainly, if you had been out,' added Mr. Danvers, 'you had no
+business to have been riding that donkey. You must have heard me say
+that it was not fit to be ridden, for it is always playing tricks of
+some sort. And you may be very thankful that you did not get either a
+broken limb or a severe blow on your head.'
+
+George made no reply, but he burst into tears, for his ill-humour had
+now entirely given way to sorrow; and he continued crying as he walked
+by the side of his father.
+
+'I am afraid you have too much indulgence,' said Mr. Danvers, 'and too
+much liberty in disposing of your time; you are not the happier for it,
+you see. When left to yourself to amuse yourself as you please the whole
+day, you almost constantly get into some trouble or other before the day
+is over. In future I shall take care that your time is better employed
+than in riding races with butchers' boys, and trying to tame
+incorrigible donkeys.'
+
+Here George tried to put his father right as to his riding with the
+butcher's boy being entirely accidental; but his sobs prevented his
+speaking articulately, and they had nearly arrived at home before Mr.
+and Mrs. Danvers could exactly understand how the accident had happened.
+
+'And how came Fletcher by his black eye?' said Mr. Danvers.
+
+'Oh, that was done in a passion,' replied George. 'I was tired before I
+began to play, and I did not like to be beat by a boy so near my own
+size.'
+
+'And how would you have felt,' said Mr. Danvers, 'had you deprived your
+companion of the sight of his eye, which was very near being the case?
+Accidents of this sort have sometimes happened from cricket-balls; but
+this, instead of accidental, would have been the consequence of pettish
+ill-humour. I shall allow no more cricket for some days; indeed, I fear
+it will be some days before Fletcher will be well enough to play; and
+certainly I shall allow no more whole days of play.'
+
+'I wish you would not, father,' said George, 'for they always end
+unhappily; and you have not heard all the unhappiness of this.'
+
+George was endeavouring to commence his relation of the broken vase,
+when the lads from the cricket-field, who had just finished their game,
+approached to bid Mr. and Mrs. Danvers a good-morning, and inquire of
+their young companion why he and Tom Fletcher had not again joined them.
+In pity to the confusion visibly stamped on George's countenance, Mr.
+Danvers undertook to explain the cause of their absence, and begged that
+they themselves would come, whenever it was pleasant to them, to play in
+his field. As to Tom, he thought he would not be able to play again
+within a week; but on that day se'nnight, if his eye was well enough to
+allow of his playing, Mr. Danvers would himself take a part in the game,
+and he invited all the party to take tea and refreshments after its
+conclusion. The boys seemed delighted with this proposition, and took
+their leave, when George accompanied his father and mother into the
+house, where they were joined by little Ellen. The accident of the
+broken vase was related, at which Mrs. Danvers expressed great regret;
+but her vexation was accompanied with the pleasing reflection that the
+word of her children might be taken without scruple, for the
+good-natured Ann was not easy till she had informed her mistress of all
+that she knew respecting the accident.
+
+From this day, Ellen never wished that she was a boy to do nothing but
+play from morning till night. She saw, in the example of her brother
+George, that idleness generally leads to mischief, and consequently to
+unhappiness; and she felt how necessary it was to have performed her
+duty well before she could enjoy her play.
+
+
+
+
+Waste Not, Want Not
+
+or
+
+Two Strings to Your Bow
+
+
+Mr. Gresham, a Bristol merchant, who had, by honourable industry and
+economy, accumulated a considerable fortune, retired from business to a
+new house which he had built upon the Downs, near Clifton. Mr. Gresham,
+however, did not imagine that a new house alone could make him happy. He
+did not propose to live in idleness and extravagance; for such a life
+would have been equally incompatible with his habits and his principles.
+He was fond of children; and as he had no sons, he determined to adopt
+one of his relations. He had two nephews, and he invited both of them to
+his house, that he might have an opportunity of judging of their
+dispositions, and of the habits which they had acquired.
+
+Hal and Benjamin, Mr. Gresham's nephews, were about ten years old. They
+had been educated very differently. Hal was the son of the elder branch
+of the family. His father was a gentleman, who spent rather more than
+he could afford; and Hal, from the example of the servants in his
+father's family, with whom he had passed the first years of his
+childhood, learned to waste more of everything than he used. He had been
+told that 'gentlemen should be above being careful and saving'; and he
+had unfortunately imbibed a notion that extravagance was the sign of a
+generous disposition, and economy of an avaricious one.
+
+Benjamin, on the contrary, had been taught habits of care and foresight.
+His father had but a very small fortune, and was anxious that his son
+should early learn that economy ensures independence, and sometimes puts
+it in the power of those who are not very rich to be very generous.
+
+The morning after these two boys arrived at their uncle's they were
+eager to see all the rooms in the house. Mr. Gresham accompanied them,
+and attended to their remarks and exclamations.
+
+'Oh, what an excellent motto!' exclaimed Ben, when he read the following
+words, which were written in large characters over the chimneypiece in
+his uncle's spacious kitchen--
+
+    'WASTE NOT, WANT NOT.'
+
+'"Waste not, want not!"' repeated his cousin Hal, in rather a
+contemptuous tone; 'I think it looks stingy to servants; and no
+gentleman's servants, cooks especially, would like to have such a mean
+motto always staring them in the face.'
+
+Ben, who was not so conversant as his cousin in the ways of cooks and
+gentleman's servants, made no reply to these observations.
+
+Mr. Gresham was called away whilst his nephews were looking at the other
+rooms in the house. Some time afterwards he heard their voices in the
+hall.
+
+'Boys,' said he, 'what are you doing there?'
+
+'Nothing, sir,' said Hal. 'You were called away from us, and we did not
+know which way to go.'
+
+'And have you nothing to do?' said Mr. Gresham.
+
+'No, sir--nothing,' answered Hal in a careless tone, like one who was
+well content with the state of habitual idleness.
+
+'No, sir--nothing,' replied Ben, in a voice of lamentation.
+
+'Come,' said Mr. Gresham, 'if you have nothing to do, lads, will you
+unpack those two parcels for me?'
+
+The two parcels were exactly alike, both of them well tied up with good
+whipcord. Ben took his parcel to a table, and, after breaking off the
+sealing-wax, began carefully to examine the knot, and then to untie it.
+Hal stood still, exactly in the spot where the parcel was put into his
+hands, and tried, first at one corner and then at another, to pull the
+string off by force.
+
+'I wish these people wouldn't tie up their parcels so tight, as if they
+were never to be undone!' cried he, as he tugged at the cord; and he
+pulled the knot closer instead of loosening it. 'Ben! why, how did you
+get yours undone, man? What's in your parcel? I wonder what is in mine.
+I wish I could get this string off. I must cut it.'
+
+'Oh no,' said Ben, who now had undone the last knot of his parcel, and
+who drew out the length of string with exultation, 'don't cut it, Hal.
+Look what a nice cord this is, and yours is the same. It's a pity to cut
+it. "_Waste not, want not!_" you know.'
+
+'Pooh!' said Hal, 'what signifies a bit of packthread?'
+
+'It is whipcord,' said Ben.
+
+[Illustration: _'Oh, what an excellent motto!' exclaimed Ben.--Page
+205._]
+
+'Well, whipcord. What signifies a bit of whipcord? You can get a bit of
+whipcord twice as long as that for twopence, and who cares for twopence?
+Not I, for one! So here it goes,' cried Hal, drawing out his knife; and
+he cut the cord precipitately in sundry places.
+
+'Lads, have you undone the parcels for me?' said Mr. Gresham, opening
+the parlour door as he spoke.
+
+'Yes, sir,' cried Hal; and he dragged off his half-cut, half-entangled
+string. 'Here's the parcel.'
+
+'And here's my parcel, uncle; and here's the string,' said Ben.
+
+'You may keep the string for your pains,' said Mr. Gresham.
+
+'Thank you, sir,' said Ben. 'What an excellent whipcord it is!'
+
+'And you, Hal,' continued Mr. Gresham--'you may keep your string, too,
+if it will be of any use to you.'
+
+'It will be of no use to me, thank you, sir,' said Hal.
+
+'No, I am afraid not, if this be it,' said his uncle, taking up the
+jagged knotted remains of Hal's cord.
+
+A few days after this Mr. Gresham gave to each of his nephews a new top.
+
+'But how's this?' said Hal. 'These tops have no strings. What shall we
+do for strings?'
+
+'I have a string that will do very well for mine,' said Ben; and he
+pulled out of his pocket the fine, long, smooth string which had tied up
+the parcel.
+
+With this he soon set up his top, which spun admirably well.
+
+'Oh, how I wish I had but a string!' said Hal. 'What shall I do for a
+string? I'll tell you what: I can use the string that goes round my
+hat!'
+
+'But, then,' said Ben, 'what will you do for a hatband?'
+
+'I'll manage to do without one,' said Hal, and he took the string off
+his hat for his top.
+
+It was soon worn through, and he split his top by driving the peg too
+tightly into it. His Cousin Ben let him set up his the next day, but Hal
+was not more fortunate or more careful when he meddled with other
+people's things than when he managed his own. He had scarcely played
+half an hour before he split it by driving the peg too violently.
+
+Ben bore this misfortune with good-humour.
+
+'Come,' said he, 'it can't be helped; but give me the string, because
+_that_ may still be of use for something else.'
+
+It happened some time afterwards that a lady, who had been intimately
+acquainted with Hal's mother at Bath--that is to say, who had frequently
+met her at the card-table during the winter--now arrived at Clifton. She
+was informed by his mother that Hal was at Mr. Gresham's, and her sons,
+who were _friends_ of his, came to see him, and invited him to spend the
+next day with them.
+
+Hal joyfully accepted the invitation. He was always glad to go out to
+dine, because it gave him something to do, something to think of, or at
+least something to say. Besides this, he had been educated to think it
+was a fine thing to visit fine people; and Lady Diana Sweepstakes (for
+that was the name of his mother's acquaintance) was a very fine lady,
+and her two sons intended to be very _great_ gentlemen. He was in a
+prodigious hurry when these young gentlemen knocked at his uncle's door
+the next day; but just as he got to the hall door little Patty called to
+him from the top of the stairs, and told him that he had dropped his
+pocket-handkerchief.
+
+'Pick it up, then, and bring it to me, quick, can't you, child?' cried
+Hal, 'for Lady Di's sons are waiting for me.'
+
+Little Patty did not know anything about Lady Di's sons; but as she was
+very good-natured, and saw that her cousin Hal was, for some reason or
+other, in a desperate hurry, she ran downstairs as fast as she possibly
+could towards the landing-place, where the handkerchief lay; but, alas!
+before she reached the handkerchief, she fell, rolling down a whole
+flight of stairs, and when her fall was at last stopped by the
+landing-place, she did not cry out; she writhed, as if she was in great
+pain.
+
+'Where are you hurt, my love?' said Mr. Gresham, who came instantly on
+hearing the noise of someone falling downstairs. 'Where are you hurt, my
+dear?'
+
+'Here, papa,' said the little girl, touching her ankle, which she had
+decently covered with her gown. 'I believe I am hurt here, but not
+much,' added she, trying to rise; 'only it hurts me when I move.'
+
+'I'll carry you; don't move, then,' said her father, and he took her up
+in his arms.
+
+'My shoe! I've lost one of my shoes,' said she.
+
+Ben looked for it upon the stairs, and he found it sticking in a loop of
+whipcord, which was entangled round one of the banisters. When this cord
+was drawn forth, it appeared that it was the very same jagged, entangled
+piece which Hal had pulled off his parcel. He had diverted himself with
+running up and down stairs, whipping the banisters with it, as he
+thought he could convert it to no better use; and, with his usual
+carelessness, he at last left it hanging just where he happened to throw
+it when the dinner-bell rang. Poor little Patty's ankle was terribly
+strained, and Hal reproached himself for his folly, and would have
+reproached himself longer, perhaps, if Lady Di Sweepstakes' sons had not
+hurried him away.
+
+In the evening, Patty could not run about as she used to do; but she sat
+upon the sofa, and she said that she did not feel the pain of her ankle
+_so much_ whilst Ben was so good as to play at _Jack Straws_ with her.
+
+'That's right, Ben; never be ashamed of being good-natured to those who
+are younger and weaker than yourself,' said his uncle, smiling at seeing
+him produce his whipcord to indulge his little cousin with a game at her
+favourite cat's-cradle. 'I shall not think you one bit less manly,
+because I see you playing at cat's-cradle with a little child of six
+years old.'
+
+Hal, however, was not precisely of his uncle's opinion; for when he
+returned in the evening, and saw Ben playing with his little cousin, he
+could not help smiling contemptuously, and asked if he had been playing
+at cat's-cradle all night. In a heedless manner he made some inquiries
+after Patty's sprained ankle, and then he ran on to tell all the news he
+had heard at Lady Diana Sweepstakes'--news which he thought would make
+him appear a person of vast importance.
+
+'Do you know, uncle--do you know, Ben,' said he, 'there's to be the most
+_famous_ doings that ever were heard of upon the Downs here, the first
+day of next month, which will be in a fortnight, thank my stars? I wish
+the fortnight was over. I shall think of nothing else, I know, till that
+happy day comes.'
+
+Mr. Gresham inquired why the first of September was to be so much
+happier than any other day in the year.
+
+'Why,' replied Hal, 'Lady Diana Sweepstakes, you know, is a _famous_
+rider, and archer, and _all that_----'
+
+'Very likely,' said Mr. Gresham soberly; 'but what then?'
+
+'Dear uncle,' cried Hal, 'but you shall hear! There's to be a race upon
+the Downs on the first of September, and after the race there's to be an
+archery meeting for the ladies, and Lady Diana Sweepstakes is to be one
+of _them_. And after the ladies have done shooting--now, Ben, comes the
+best part of it!--we boys are to have our turn, and Lady Di is to give a
+prize to the best marksman amongst us of a very handsome bow and arrow.
+Do you know, I've been practising already, and I'll show you to-morrow,
+as soon as it comes home, the _famous_ bow and arrow that Lady Diana has
+given me; but perhaps,' added he, with a scornful laugh, 'you like a
+cat's-cradle better than a bow and arrow.'
+
+Ben made no reply to this taunt at the moment; but the next day, when
+Hal's new bow and arrow came home, he convinced him that he knew how to
+use it very well.
+
+'Ben,' said his uncle, 'you seem to be a good marksman, though you have
+not boasted of yourself. I'll give you a bow and arrow, and perhaps, if
+you practise, you may make yourself an archer before the first of
+September; and, in the meantime, you will not wish the fortnight to be
+over, for you will have something to do.'
+
+'Oh, sir,' interrupted Hal, 'but if you mean that Ben should put in for
+the prize, he must have a uniform.'
+
+'Why _must_ he?' said Mr. Gresham.
+
+'Why, sir, because everybody has--I mean everybody that's anybody; and
+Lady Diana was talking about the uniform all dinner time, and it's
+settled, all about it, except the buttons. The young Sweepstakes are to
+get theirs made first for patterns. They are to be white, faced with
+green, and they'll look very handsome, I'm sure; and I shall write to
+mother to-night, as Lady Diana bid me, about mine, and I shall tell her
+to be sure to answer my letter without fail by return of post; and then,
+if mother makes no objection--which I know she won't, because she never
+thinks much about expense, and _all that_--then I shall bespeak my
+uniform, and get it made by the same tailor that makes for Lady Diana
+and the young Sweepstakes.'
+
+'Mercy upon us!' said Mr. Gresham, who was almost stunned by the rapid
+vociferation with which this long speech about a uniform was pronounced.
+'I don't pretend to understand these things,' added he, with an air of
+simplicity, 'but we will inquire, Ben, into the necessity of the case;
+and if it is necessary--or if you think it necessary that you shall have
+a uniform--why, I'll give you one.'
+
+'_You_, uncle? Will you, _indeed_?' exclaimed Hal, with amazement
+painted in his countenance. 'Well, that's the last thing in the world I
+should have expected! You are not at all the sort of person I should
+have thought would care about a uniform; and now I should have supposed
+you'd have thought it extravagant to have a coat on purpose only for one
+day. And I'm sure Lady Diana Sweepstakes thought as I do, for when I
+told her of that motto over your kitchen chimney--"WASTE NOT, WANT
+NOT"--she laughed, and said that I had better not talk to you about
+uniforms, and that my mother was the proper person to write to about my
+uniform; but I'll tell Lady Diana, uncle, how good you are, and how much
+she was mistaken.'
+
+'Take care how you do that,' said Mr. Gresham, 'for perhaps the lady was
+not mistaken.'
+
+'Nay, did not you say just now you would give poor Ben a uniform?'
+
+'I said I would if he thought it necessary to have one.'
+
+'Oh, I'll answer for it he'll think it necessary,' said Hal, laughing,
+'because it is necessary.'
+
+'Allow him, at least, to judge for himself,' said Mr. Gresham.
+
+'My dear uncle, but I assure you,' said Hal earnestly, 'there's no
+judging about the matter, because really, upon my word, Lady Diana said
+distinctly that her sons were to have uniforms--white, faced with
+green--and a green and white cockade in their hats.'
+
+'May be so,' said Mr. Gresham, still with the same look of calm
+simplicity. 'Put on your hats, boys, and come with me. I know a
+gentleman whose sons are to be at this archery meeting, and we will
+inquire into all the particulars from him. Then, after we have seen
+him--it is not eleven o'clock yet--we shall have time enough to walk on
+to Bristol, and choose the cloth for Ben's uniform if it is necessary.'
+
+'I cannot tell what to make of all he says,' whispered Hal, as he
+reached down his hat. 'Do you think, Ben, he means to give you this
+uniform or not?'
+
+'I think,' said Ben, 'that he means to give me one if it is necessary;
+or, as he said, if I think it is necessary.'
+
+'And that to be sure you will, won't you? or else you'll be a great
+fool, I know, after all I've told you. How can anyone in the world know
+so much about the matter as I, who have dined with Lady Diana
+Sweepstakes but yesterday, and heard all about it from beginning to end?
+And as for this gentleman that we are going to, I'm sure, if he knows
+anything about the matter, he'll say exactly the same as I do.'
+
+'We shall hear,' said Ben, with a degree of composure which Hal could by
+no means comprehend when a uniform was in question.
+
+The gentleman upon whom Mr. Gresham called had three sons who were all
+to be at this archery meeting, and they unanimously assured him, in the
+presence of Hal and Ben, that they had not thought of buying uniforms
+for this grand occasion, and that, amongst the number of their
+acquaintance, they knew of but three boys whose friends intended to be
+at such an _unnecessary_ expense. Hal stood amazed.
+
+'Such are the varieties of opinion upon all the grand affairs of life,'
+said Mr. Gresham, looking at his nephews. 'What amongst one set of
+people you hear asserted to be absolutely necessary, you will hear from
+another set of people is quite unnecessary. All that can be done, my
+dear boys, in these difficult cases, is to judge for yourselves which
+opinions and which people are the most reasonable.'
+
+Hal, who had been more accustomed to think of what was fashionable than
+of what was reasonable, without at all considering the good sense of
+what his uncle said to him, replied with childish petulance:
+
+'Indeed, sir, I don't know what other people think; but I only know what
+Lady Diana Sweepstakes said.'
+
+The name of Lady Diana Sweepstakes, Hal thought, must impress all
+present with respect. He was highly astonished when, as he looked round,
+he saw a smile of contempt upon everyone's countenance; and he was yet
+further bewildered when he heard her spoken of as a very silly,
+extravagant, ridiculous woman, whose opinion no prudent person would ask
+upon any subject, and whose example was to be shunned instead of being
+imitated.
+
+'Ay, my dear Hal,' said his uncle, smiling at his look of amazement,
+'these are some of the things that young people must learn from
+experience. All the world do not agree in opinion about characters. You
+will hear the same person admired in one company and blamed in another;
+so that we must still come round to the same point--_Judge for
+yourself_.'
+
+Hal's thoughts were, however, at present too full of the uniform to
+allow his judgment to act with perfect impartiality. As soon as their
+visit was over, and all the time they walked down the hill from
+Prince's Buildings towards Bristol, he continued to repeat nearly the
+same arguments which he had formerly used respecting necessity, the
+uniform, and Lady Diana Sweepstakes. To all this Mr. Gresham made no
+reply, and longer had the young gentleman expatiated upon the subject,
+which had so strongly seized upon his imagination, had not his senses
+been forcibly assailed at this instant by the delicious odours and
+tempting sight of certain cakes and jellies in a pastrycook's shop.
+
+'Oh, uncle,' said he, as his uncle was going to turn the corner to
+pursue the road to Bristol, 'look at those jellies!' pointing to a
+confectioner's shop. 'I must buy some of those good things, for I have
+got some halfpence in my pocket.'
+
+'Your having halfpence in your pocket is an excellent reason for
+eating,' said Mr. Gresham, smiling.
+
+'But I really am hungry,' said Hal. 'You know, uncle, it is a good while
+since breakfast.'
+
+His uncle, who was desirous to see his nephews act without restraint,
+that he might judge their characters, bid them do as they pleased.
+
+'Come, then, Ben, if you've any halfpence in your pocket.'
+
+'I'm not hungry,' said Ben.
+
+'I suppose _that_ means that you've no halfpence,' said Hal, laughing,
+with the look of superiority which he had been taught to think _the
+rich_ might assume towards those who were convicted either of poverty or
+economy.
+
+'Waste not, want not,' said Ben to himself.
+
+Contrary to his cousin's surmise, he happened to have two pennyworth of
+halfpence actually in his pocket.
+
+At the very moment Hal stepped into the pastrycook's shop a poor,
+industrious man with a wooden leg, who usually sweeps the dirty corner
+of the walk which turns at this spot to the Wells, held his hat to Ben,
+who, after glancing his eye at the petitioner's well-worn broom,
+instantly produced his twopence.
+
+'I wish I had more halfpence for you, my good man,' said he; 'but I've
+only twopence.'
+
+Hal came out of Mr. Millar's, the confectioner's shop, with a hatful of
+cakes in his hand. Mr. Millar's dog was sitting on the flags before the
+door, and he looked up with a wistful, begging eye at Hal, who was
+eating a queen-cake. Hal, who was wasteful even in his good-nature,
+threw a whole queen-cake to the dog, who swallowed it at a single
+mouthful.
+
+'There goes twopence in the form of a queen-cake,' said Mr. Gresham.
+
+Hal next offered some of his cakes to his uncle and cousin; but they
+thanked him, and refused to eat any, because, they said, they were not
+hungry; so he ate and ate as he walked along, till at last he stopped
+and said:
+
+'This bun tastes so bad after the queen-cakes, I can't bear it!' and he
+was going to fling it from him into the river.
+
+'Oh, it is a pity to waste that good bun; we may be glad of it yet,'
+said Ben. 'Give it me rather than throw it away.'
+
+'Why, I thought you said you were not hungry,' said Hal.
+
+'True, I am not hungry now; but that is no reason why I should never be
+hungry again.'
+
+'Well, there is the cake for you. Take it, for it has made me sick, and
+I don't care what becomes of it.'
+
+Ben folded the refuse bit of his cousin's bun in a piece of paper, and
+put it into his pocket.
+
+'I'm beginning to be exceeding tired or sick or something,' said Hal;
+'and as there is a stand of coaches somewhere hereabouts, had we not
+better take a coach, instead of walking all the way to Bristol?'
+
+'For a stout archer,' said Mr. Gresham, 'you are more easily tired than
+one might have expected. However, with all my heart, let us take a
+coach, for Ben asked me to show him the cathedral yesterday; and I
+believe I should find it rather too much for me to walk so far, though I
+am not sick with eating good things.'
+
+'_The cathedral!_' said Hal, after he had been seated in the coach about
+a quarter of an hour, and had somewhat recovered from his sickness--'the
+cathedral! Why, are we only going to Bristol to see the cathedral? I
+thought we came out to see about a uniform.'
+
+There was a dulness and melancholy kind of stupidity in Hal's
+countenance as he pronounced these words, like one wakening from a
+dream, which made both his uncle and his cousin burst out a-laughing.
+
+'Why,' said Hal, who was now piqued, 'I'm sure you _did_ say, uncle, you
+would go to Mr. Hall's to choose the cloth for the uniform.'
+
+'Very true, and so I will,' said Mr. Gresham; 'but we need not make a
+whole morning's work, need we, of looking at a piece of cloth? Cannot we
+see a uniform and a cathedral both in one morning?'
+
+They went first to the cathedral. Hal's head was too full of the uniform
+to take any notice of the painted window, which immediately caught Ben's
+embarrassed attention. He looked at the large stained figures on the
+Gothic window, and he observed their coloured shadows on the floor and
+walls.
+
+Mr. Gresham, who perceived that he was eager on all subjects to gain
+information, took this opportunity of telling him several things about
+the lost art of painting on glass, Gothic arches, etc., which Hal
+thought extremely tiresome.
+
+'Come, come, we shall be late indeed!' said Hal. 'Surely you've looked
+long enough, Ben, at this blue and red window.'
+
+'I'm only thinking about these coloured shadows,' said Ben.
+
+'I can show you when we go home, Ben,' said his uncle, 'an entertaining
+paper upon such shadows.'[A]
+
+'Hark!' cried Ben; 'did you hear that noise?'
+
+They all listened, and they heard a bird singing in the cathedral.
+
+'It's our old robin, sir,' said the lad who had opened the cathedral
+door for them.
+
+'Yes,' said Mr. Gresham, 'there he is, boys--look--perched upon the
+organ; he often sits there, and sings whilst the organ is playing.'
+
+'And,' continued the lad who showed the cathedral, 'he has lived here
+these many, many winters. They say he is fifteen years old; and he is so
+tame, poor fellow! that if I had a bit of bread he'd come down and feed
+in my hand.'
+
+'I've a bit of bun here,' cried Ben joyfully, producing the remains of
+the bun which Hal but an hour before would have thrown away. 'Pray, let
+us see the poor robin eat out of your hand.'
+
+The lad crumbled the bun and called to the robin, who fluttered and
+chirped and seemed rejoiced at the sight of the bread; but yet he did
+not come down from his pinnacle on the organ.
+
+'He is afraid of _us_,' said Ben; 'he is not used to eat before
+strangers, I suppose.'
+
+'Ah, no, sir,' said the young man, with a deep sigh, 'that is not the
+thing. He is used enough to eat afore company. Time was he'd have come
+down for me before ever so many fine folks, and have eat his crumbs out
+of my hand at my first call; but, poor fellow! it's not his fault now.
+He does not know me now, sir, since my _accident_, because of this great
+black patch.'
+
+The young man put his hand to his right eye, which was covered with a
+huge black patch. Ben asked what _accident_ he meant; and the lad told
+him that, but a few weeks ago, he had lost the sight of his eye by the
+stroke of a stone, which reached him as he was passing under the rocks
+at Clifton, unluckily when the workmen were blasting.
+
+'I don't mind so much for myself, sir,' said the lad; 'but I can't work
+so well now, as I used to do before my accident, for my old mother, who
+has had a _stroke_ of the palsy; and I've a many little brothers and
+sisters not well able yet to get their own livelihood, though they be as
+willing as willing can be.'
+
+'Where does your mother live?' said Mr. Gresham.
+
+'Hard by, sir, just close to the church here. It was _her_ that always
+had the showing of it to strangers, till she lost the use of her poor
+limbs.'
+
+'Shall we, may we, uncle, go that way? This is the house, is it not?'
+said Ben, when they went out of the cathedral.
+
+They went into the house. It was rather a hovel than a house; but, poor
+as it was, it was as neat as misery could make it. The old woman was
+sitting up in her wretched bed, winding worsted; four meagre,
+ill-clothed, pale children were all busy, some of them sticking pins in
+paper for the pin-maker, and others sorting rags for the paper-maker.
+
+'What a horrid place it is!' said Hal, sighing; 'I did not know there
+were such shocking places in the world. I've often seen
+terrible-looking, tumble-down places, as we drove through the town in
+mother's carriage; but then I did not know who lived in them, and I
+never saw the inside of any of them. It is very dreadful, indeed, to
+think that people are forced to live in this way. I wish mother would
+send me some more pocket-money, that I might do something for them. I
+had half a crown; but,' continued he, feeling in his pockets, 'I'm
+afraid I spent the last shilling of it this morning upon those cakes
+that made me sick. I wish I had my shilling now; I'd give it to _these
+poor people_.'
+
+Ben, though he was all this time silent, was as sorry as his talkative
+cousin for all these poor people. But there was some difference between
+the sorrow of these two boys.
+
+Hal, after he was again seated in the hackney-coach, and had rattled
+through the busy streets of Bristol for a few minutes, quite forgot the
+spectacle of misery which he had seen, and the gay shops in Wine Street
+and the idea of his green and white uniform wholly occupied his
+imagination.
+
+'Now for our uniforms!' cried he, as he jumped eagerly out of the coach,
+when his uncle stopped at the woollen-draper's door.
+
+'Uncle,' said Ben, stopping Mr. Gresham before he got out of the
+carriage, 'I don't think a uniform is at all necessary for me. I'm very
+much obliged to you, but I would rather not have one. I have a very good
+coat, and I think it would be waste.'
+
+'Well, let me get out of the carriage, and we will see about it,' said
+Mr. Gresham. 'Perhaps the sight of the beautiful green and white cloth,
+and the epaulette--have you ever considered the epaulettes?--may tempt
+you to change your mind.'
+
+'Oh, no,' said Ben, laughing; 'I shall not change my mind.'
+
+The green cloth and the white cloth and the epaulettes were produced, to
+Hal's infinite satisfaction. His uncle took up a pen, and calculated for
+a few minutes. Then showing the back of the letter upon which he was
+writing to his nephews:
+
+'Cast up these sums, boys,' said he, 'and tell me whether I am right.'
+
+'Ben, do you do it,' said Hal, a little embarrassed; 'I am not quick at
+figures.'
+
+Ben _was_, and he went over his uncle's calculation very expeditiously.
+
+'It is right, is it?' said Mr. Gresham.
+
+'Yes, sir, quite right.'
+
+'Then, by this calculation I find I could, for less than half the money
+your uniforms would cost, purchase for each of you boys a warm
+greatcoat, which you will want, I have a notion, this winter upon the
+downs.'
+
+'Oh, sir,' said Hal with an alarmed look, 'but it is not winter _yet_;
+it is not cold weather _yet_. We shan't want greatcoats _yet_.'
+
+'Don't you remember how cold we were, Hal, the day before yesterday, in
+that sharp wind, when we were flying our kite upon the downs? and winter
+will come, though it is not come yet. I am sure I should like to have a
+good warm greatcoat very much.'
+
+Mr. Gresham took six guineas out of his purse; and he placed three of
+them before Hal and three before Ben.
+
+'Young gentlemen,' said he, 'I believe your uniforms would come to about
+three guineas apiece. Now I will lay out this money for you just as you
+please. Hal, what say you?'
+
+'Why, sir,' said Hal, 'a greatcoat is a good thing, to be sure; and
+then, after the greatcoat, as you said it would only cost half as much
+as the uniform, there would be some money to spare, would not there?'
+
+'Yes, my dear, about five-and-twenty shillings.'
+
+'Five-and-twenty shillings? I could buy and do a great many things, to
+be sure, with five-and-twenty shillings; but then, _the thing is_, I
+must go without the uniform if I have the greatcoat.'
+
+'Certainly,' said his uncle.
+
+'Ah!' said Hal, sighing, as he looked at the epaulette, 'uncle, if you
+would not be displeased if I choose the uniform----'
+
+'I shall not be displeased at your choosing whatever you like best,'
+said Mr. Gresham.
+
+'Well, then, thank you, sir,' said Hal, 'I think I had better have the
+uniform, because, if I have not the uniform now directly, it will be of
+no use to me, as the archery meeting is the week after next, you know;
+and as to the greatcoat, perhaps between this time and the very cold
+weather, which perhaps won't be till Christmas, father will buy a
+greatcoat for me; and I'll ask mother to give me some pocket-money to
+give away, and she will, perhaps.'
+
+To all this conclusive, conditional reasoning, which depended upon the
+word _perhaps_, three times repeated, Mr. Gresham made no reply; but he
+immediately bought the uniform for Hal, and desired that it should be
+sent to Lady Diana Sweepstakes' sons' tailor to be made up. The measure
+of Hal's happiness was now complete.
+
+'And how am I to lay out the three guineas for you, Ben?' said Mr.
+Gresham. 'Speak; what do you wish for first?'
+
+'A greatcoat, uncle, if you please.'
+
+Mr. Gresham bought the coat, and after it was paid for five-and-twenty
+shillings of Ben's three guineas remained.
+
+'What next, my boy?' said his uncle.
+
+'Arrows, uncle, if you please--three arrows.'
+
+'My dear, I promised you a bow and arrows.'
+
+'No, uncle, you only said a bow.'
+
+'Well, I meant a bow and arrows. I'm glad you are so exact, however. It
+is better to claim less than more than what is promised. The three
+arrows you shall have. But go on. How shall I dispose of these
+five-and-twenty shillings for you?'
+
+'In clothes, if you will be so good, uncle, for that poor boy who has
+the great black patch on his eye.'
+
+'I always believed,' said Mr. Gresham, shaking hands with Ben, 'that
+economy and generosity were the best friends, instead of being enemies,
+as some silly, extravagant people would have us think them. Choose the
+poor, blind boy's coat, my dear nephew, and pay for it. There's no
+occasion for my praising you about the matter. Your best reward is in
+your own mind, child; and you want no other, or I'm mistaken. Now jump
+into the coach, boys, and let's be off. We shall be late, I'm afraid,'
+continued he, as the coach drove on; 'but I must let you stop, Ben, with
+your goods, at the poor boy's door.'
+
+When they came to the house, Mr. Gresham opened the coach door, and Ben
+jumped out with his parcel under his arm.
+
+'Stay, stay! you must take me with you,' said his pleased uncle; 'I like
+to see people made happy as well as you do.'
+
+'And so do I, too,' said Hal. 'Let me come with you. I almost wish my
+uniform was not gone to the tailor's, so I do.' And when he saw the look
+of delight and gratitude with which the poor boy received the clothes
+which Ben gave him, and when he heard the mother and children thank him,
+Hal sighed, and said: 'Well, I hope mother will give me some more
+pocket-money soon.'
+
+Upon his return home, however, the sight of the _famous_ bow and arrow,
+which Lady Diana Sweepstakes had sent him, recalled to his imagination
+all the joys of his green-and-white uniform, and he no longer wished
+that it had not been sent to the tailor's.
+
+'But I don't understand, Cousin Hal,' said little Patty, 'why you call
+this bow a _famous_ bow. You say _famous_ very often, and I don't know
+exactly what it means--a _famous_ uniform, _famous_ doings. I remember
+you said there are to be _famous_ doings, the first of September, upon
+the Downs. What does _famous_ mean?'
+
+'Oh, why _famous_ means--now, don't you know what _famous_ means? It
+means--it is a word that people say--it is the fashion to say it--it
+means--it means _famous_.'
+
+Patty laughed, and said:
+
+'_This_ does not explain it to me.'
+
+'No,' said Hal, 'nor can it be explained. If you don't understand it,
+that's not my fault. Everybody but little children, I suppose,
+understands it; but there's no explaining _those sort_ of words, if you
+don't _take them_ at once. There's to be _famous_ doings upon the Downs,
+the first of September--that is grand, fine. In short, what does it
+signify talking any longer, Patty, about the matter? Give me my bow, for
+I must go out upon the Downs and practise.'
+
+Ben accompanied him with the bow and the three arrows which his uncle
+had now given to him, and every day these two boys went out upon the
+Downs and practised shooting with indefatigable perseverance. Where
+equal pains are taken, success is usually found to be pretty nearly
+equal. Our two archers, by constant practice, became expert marksmen;
+and before the day of trial they were so exactly matched in point of
+dexterity that it was scarcely possible to decide which was superior.
+
+The long-expected first of September at length arrived. 'What sort of a
+day is it?' was the first question that was asked by Hal and Ben the
+moment that they awakened. The sun shone bright, but there was a sharp
+and high wind.
+
+'Ha!' said Ben, 'I shall be glad of my good greatcoat to-day, for I've a
+notion it will be rather cold upon the Downs, especially when we are
+standing still, as we must, whilst all the people are shooting.'
+
+'Oh, never mind. I don't think I shall feel it cold at all,' said Hal,
+as he dressed himself in his new green-and-white uniform; and he viewed
+himself with much complacency. 'Good-morning to you, uncle. How do you
+do?' said he, in a voice of exultation, when he entered the
+breakfast-room.
+
+'How do you do?' seemed rather to mean, 'How do you like me in my
+uniform?' and his uncle's cool, 'Very well, I thank you, Hal,'
+disappointed him, as it seemed only to say, 'Your uniform makes no
+difference in my opinion of you.'
+
+Even little Patty went on eating her breakfast much as usual, and talked
+of the pleasure of walking with her father to the Downs, and of all the
+little things which interested her, so that Hal's epaulettes were not
+the principal object in anyone's imagination but his own.
+
+'Father,' said Patty, 'as we go up the hill where there is so much red
+mud I must take care to pick my way nicely, and I must hold up my
+frock, as you desired me, and perhaps you will be so good, if I am not
+troublesome, to lift me over the very bad place where are no
+stepping-stones. My ankle is entirely well, and I'm glad of that, or
+else I should not be able to walk so far as the Downs. How good you were
+to me, Ben, when I was in pain the day I sprained my ankle! You played
+at jack straws and at cat's-cradle with me. Oh, that puts me in mind!
+Here are your gloves which I asked you that night to let me mend. I've
+been a great while about them, but are not they very neatly mended,
+father? Look at the sewing.'
+
+'I am not a very good judge of sewing, my dear little girl,' said Mr.
+Gresham, examining the work with a close and scrupulous eye; 'but, in my
+opinion, here is one stitch that is rather too long. The white teeth are
+not quite even.'
+
+'Oh, father, I'll take out that long tooth in a minute,' said Patty,
+laughing. 'I did not think that you would observe it so soon.'
+
+'I would not have you trust to my blindness,' said her father, stroking
+her head fondly; 'I observe everything. I observe, for instance, that
+you are a grateful little girl, and that you are glad to be of use to
+those who have been kind to you, and for this I forgive you the long
+stitch.'
+
+'But it's out--it's out, father,' said Patty; 'and the next time your
+gloves want mending, Ben, I'll mend them better.'
+
+'They are very nice, I think,' said Ben, drawing them on, 'and I am much
+obliged to you. I was just wishing I had a pair of gloves to keep my
+fingers warm to-day, for I never can shoot well when my hands are
+benumbed. Look, Hal; you know how ragged these gloves were. You said
+they were good for nothing but to throw away. Now look, there's not a
+hole in them,' said he, spreading his fingers.
+
+'Now, is it not very extraordinary,' said Hal to himself, 'that they
+should go on so long talking about an old pair of gloves, without saying
+scarcely a word about my new uniform? Well, the young Sweepstakes and
+Lady Diana will talk enough about it, that's one comfort. Is not it time
+to think of setting out, sir?' said Hal to his uncle. 'The company, you
+know, are to meet at the Ostrich at twelve, and the race to begin at
+one, and Lady Diana's horses, I know, were ordered to be at the door at
+ten.'
+
+Mr. Stephen, the butler, here interrupted the hurrying young gentleman
+in his calculations.
+
+'There's a poor lad, sir, below, with a great black patch on his right
+eye, who is come from Bristol, and wants to speak a word with the young
+_gentlemen_, if you please. I told him they were just going out with
+you, but he says he won't detain them more than half a minute.'
+
+'Show him up--show him up,' said Mr. Gresham.
+
+'But I suppose,' said Hal, with a sigh, 'that Stephen mistook when he
+said the young _gentlemen_. He only wants to see Ben, I dare say. I'm
+sure he has no reason to want to see me. Here he comes. Oh, Ben, he is
+dressed in the new coat you gave him,' whispered Hal, who was really a
+good-natured boy, though extravagant. 'How much better he looks than he
+did in the ragged coat! Ah, he looked at you first, Ben, and well he
+may!'
+
+The boy bowed, without any cringing civility, but with an open, decent
+freedom in his manner, which expressed that he had been obliged, but
+that he knew his young benefactor was not thinking of the obligation.
+He made as little distinction as possible between his bows to the two
+cousins.
+
+'As I was sent with a message by the clerk of our parish to Redland
+Chapel out on the Downs to-day, sir,' said he to Mr. Gresham, 'knowing
+your house lay in my way, my mother, sir, bid me call, and make bold to
+offer the young gentlemen two little worsted balls that she has worked
+for them,' continued the lad, pulling out of his pocket two worsted
+balls worked in green and orange-coloured stripes. 'They are but poor
+things, sir, she bid me say, to look at; but, considering she has but
+one hand to work with, and _that_ her left hand, you'll not despise 'em,
+we hopes.' He held the balls to Ben and Hal. 'They are both alike,
+gentlemen,' said he. 'If you'll be pleased to take 'em. They're better
+than they look, for they bound higher than your head. I cut the cork
+round for the inside myself, which was all I could do.'
+
+'They are nice balls, indeed. We are much obliged to you,' said the boys
+as they received them, and they proved them immediately.
+
+The balls struck the floor with a delightful sound, and rebounded higher
+than Mr. Gresham's head. Little Patty clapped her hands joyfully. But
+now a thundering double rap at the door was heard.
+
+'The Master Sweepstakes, sir,' said Stephen, 'are come for Master Hal.
+They say that all the young gentlemen who have archery uniforms are to
+walk together in a body, I think they say, sir; and they are to parade
+along the Well Walk, they desired me to say, sir, with a drum and fife,
+and so up the hill by Prince's Place, and all to go upon the Downs
+together to the place of meeting. I am not sure I'm right, sir, for both
+the young gentlemen spoke at once, and the wind is very high at the
+street door, so that I could not well make out all they said, but I
+believe this is the sense of it.'
+
+'Yes, yes,' said Hal eagerly, 'it's all right. I know that is just what
+was settled the day I dined at Lady Diana's, and Lady Diana and a great
+party of gentlemen are to ride----'
+
+'Well, that is nothing to the purpose,' interrupted Mr. Gresham. 'Don't
+keep these Master Sweepstakes waiting. Decide. Do you choose to go with
+them or with us?'
+
+'Sir--uncle--sir, you know, since all the _uniforms_ agreed to go
+together----'
+
+'Off with you, then, Mr. Uniform, if you mean to go,' said Mr. Gresham.
+
+Hal ran downstairs in such a hurry that he forgot his bow and arrows.
+Ben discovered this when he went to fetch his own, and the lad from
+Bristol, who had been ordered by Mr. Gresham to eat his breakfast before
+he proceeded to Redland Chapel, heard Ben talking about his cousin's bow
+and arrows.
+
+'I know,' said Ben, 'he will be sorry not to have his bow with him,
+because here are the green knots tied to it to match his cockade; and he
+said that the boys were all to carry their bows as part of the show.'
+
+'If you'll give me leave, sir,' said the poor Bristol lad, 'I shall have
+plenty of time, and I'll run down to the Well Walk after the young
+gentleman, and take him his bow and arrows.'
+
+'Will you? I shall be much obliged to you,' said Ben; and away went the
+boy with the bow that was ornamented with green ribands.
+
+The public walk leading to the Wells was full of company. The windows of
+all the houses in St. Vincent's Parade were crowded with well-dressed
+ladies, who were looking out in expectation of the archery procession.
+Parties of gentlemen and ladies, and a motley crowd of spectators, were
+seen moving backwards and forwards under the rocks on the opposite side
+of the water. A barge, with coloured streamers flying, was waiting to
+take up a party who were going upon the water. The bargemen rested upon
+their oars, and gazed with broad faces of curiosity upon the busy scene
+that appeared upon the public walk.
+
+The archers and archeresses were now drawn up on the flags under the
+semicircular piazza just before Mrs. Yearsley's library. A little band
+of children, who had been mustered by Lady Diana Sweepstakes' _spirited
+exertions_, closed the procession. They were now all in readiness. The
+drummer only waited for her ladyship's signal, and the archers' corps
+only waited for her ladyship's word of command to march.
+
+'Where are your bow and arrows, my little man?' said her ladyship to
+Hal, as she reviewed her Lilliputian regiment. 'You can't march, man,
+without your arms.'
+
+Hal had despatched a messenger for his forgotten bow, but the messenger
+returned not. He looked from side to side in great distress.
+
+'Oh, there's my bow coming, I declare!' cried he. 'Look, I see the bow
+and the ribands. Look now, between the trees, Charles Sweepstakes, on
+the Hotwell Walk--it is coming!'
+
+'But you've kept us all waiting a confounded time!' said his impatient
+friend.
+
+'It is that good-natured poor fellow from Bristol, I protest, that has
+brought it me. I'm sure I don't deserve it from him,' said Hal to
+himself, when he saw the lad with the black patch on his eye running,
+quite out of breath, towards him with his bow and arrows.
+
+'Fall back, my good friend--fall back,' said the military lady, as soon
+as he had delivered the bow to Hal; 'I mean, stand out of the way, for
+your great patch cuts no figure amongst us. Don't follow so close, now,
+as if you belonged to us, pray.'
+
+The poor boy had no ambition to partake the triumph; he _fell back_ as
+soon as he understand the meaning of the lady's words. The drum beat,
+the fife played, the archers marched, the spectators admired. Hal
+stepped proudly, and felt as if the eyes of the whole universe were upon
+his epaulettes, or upon the facings of his uniform; whilst all the time
+he was considered only as part of a show.
+
+The walk appeared much shorter than usual, and he was extremely sorry
+that Lady Diana, when they were half-way up the hill leading to Prince's
+Place, mounted her horse because the road was dirty, and all the
+gentlemen and ladies who accompanied her followed her example.
+
+'We can leave the children to walk, you know,' said she to the gentleman
+who helped her to mount her horse. 'I must call to some of them, though,
+and leave orders where they are to _join_.'
+
+She beckoned, and Hal, who was foremost, and proud to show his alacrity,
+ran on to receive her ladyship's orders. Now, as we have before
+observed, it was a sharp and windy day; and though Lady Diana
+Sweepstakes was actually speaking to him, and looking at him, he could
+not prevent his nose from wanting to be blowed. He pulled out his
+handkerchief, and out rolled the new ball which had been given to him
+just before he left home, and which, according to his usual careless
+habits, he had stuffed into his pocket in his hurry.
+
+'Oh, my new ball!' cried he, as he ran after it.
+
+As he stopped to pick it up, he let go his hat, which he had hitherto
+held on with anxious care; for the hat, though it had a fine green and
+white cockade, had no band or string round it. The string, as we may
+recollect, our wasteful hero had used in spinning his top. The hat was
+too large for his head without this band; a sudden gust of wind blew it
+off. Lady Diana's horse started and reared. She was a _famous_
+horsewoman, and sat him to the admiration of all beholders; but there
+was a puddle of red clay and water in this spot, and her ladyship's
+uniform habit was a sufferer by the accident.
+
+'Careless brat!' said she; 'why can't he keep his hat upon his head?'
+
+In the meantime, the wind blew the hat down the hill, and Hal ran after
+it amidst the laughter of his kind friends, the young Sweepstakes, and
+the rest of the little regiment. The hat was lodged at length upon a
+bank. Hal pursued it; he thought this bank was hard, but, alas! the
+moment he set his foot upon it the foot sank. He tried to draw it back;
+his other foot slipped, and he fell prostrate, in his green and white
+uniform, into the treacherous bed of red mud. His companions, who had
+halted upon the top of the hill, stood laughing spectators of his
+misfortune.
+
+It happened that the poor boy with the black patch upon his eye, who had
+been ordered by Lady Diana to '_fall back_,' and to '_keep at a
+distance_,' was now coming up the hill, and the moment he saw our fallen
+hero he hastened to his assistance. He dragged poor Hal, who was a
+deplorable spectacle, out of the red mud. The obliging mistress of a
+lodging-house, as soon as she understood that the young gentleman was
+nephew to Mr. Gresham, to whom she had formerly let her house, received
+Hal, covered as he was with dirt.
+
+The poor Bristol lad hastened to Mr. Gresham's for clean stockings and
+shoes for Hal. He was willing to give up his uniform. It was rubbed and
+rubbed, and a spot here and there was washed out; and he kept
+continually repeating: 'When it's dry it will all brush off; when it's
+dry it will all brush off, won't it?' But soon the fear of being too
+late at the archery meeting began to balance the dread of appearing in
+his stained habiliments; and now he as anxiously repeated, whilst the
+woman held the wet coat to the fire: 'Oh, I shall be too late! indeed, I
+shall be too late! Make haste; it will never dry! Hold it nearer--nearer
+to the fire. I shall lose my turn to shoot. Oh, give me the coat! I
+don't mind how it is, if I can but get it on.'
+
+Holding it nearer and nearer to the fire dried it quickly, to be sure;
+but it shrank it also, so that it was no easy matter to get the coat on
+again. However, Hal, who did not see the red splashes which, in spite of
+all these operations, were too visible upon his shoulders and upon the
+skirts of his white coat behind, was pretty well satisfied to observe
+that there was not one spot upon the facings.
+
+'Nobody,' said he, 'will take notice of my coat behind, I dare say. I
+think it looks as smart almost as ever!' and under this persuasion our
+young archer resumed his bow--his bow with green ribands now no
+more--and he pursued his way to the Downs.
+
+All his companions were far out of sight.
+
+'I suppose,' said he to his friend with the black patch--'I suppose my
+uncle and Ben had left home before you went for the shoes and stockings
+for me?'
+
+'Oh, yes, sir; the butler said they had been gone to the Downs the
+matter of a good half-hour or more.'
+
+Hal trudged on as fast as he possibly could. When he got upon the Downs,
+he saw numbers of carriages and crowds of people all going towards the
+place of meeting at the Ostrich. He pressed forwards. He was at first so
+much afraid of being late that he did not take notice of the mirth his
+motley appearance excited in all beholders. At length he reached the
+appointed spot. There was a great crowd of people. In the midst he heard
+Lady Diana's loud voice betting upon some one who was just going to
+shoot at the mark.
+
+'So then the shooting is begun, is it?' said Hal. 'Oh, let me in! pray
+let me in to the circle! I'm one of the archers--I am indeed; don't you
+see my green and white uniform?'
+
+'Your red and white uniform, you mean,' said the man to whom he
+addressed himself; and the people, as they opened a passage for him,
+could not refrain laughing at the mixture of dirt and finery which it
+exhibited. In vain, when he got into the midst of the formidable circle,
+he looked to his friends, the young Sweepstakes, for their countenance
+and support. They were amongst the most unmerciful of the laughers. Lady
+Diana also seemed more to enjoy than to pity his confusion.
+
+'Why could you not keep your hat upon your head, man?' said she in her
+masculine tone. 'You have been almost the ruin of my poor uniform habit;
+but I've escaped rather better than you have. Don't stand there, in the
+middle of the circle, or you'll have an arrow in your eyes just now,
+I've a notion.'
+
+Hal looked round in search of better friends.
+
+'Oh, where's my uncle? Where's Ben?' said he.
+
+He was in such confusion that, amongst the number of faces, he could
+scarcely distinguish one from another; but he felt somebody at this
+moment pull his elbow, and, to his great relief, he heard the friendly
+voice and saw the good-natured face of his cousin Ben.
+
+'Come back--come behind these people,' said Ben, 'and put on my
+greatcoat; here it is for you.'
+
+Right glad was Hal to cover his disgraced uniform with the rough
+greatcoat which he had formerly despised. He pulled the stained,
+drooping cockade out of his unfortunate hat; and he was now sufficiently
+recovered from his vexation to give an intelligible account of his
+accident to his uncle and Patty, who anxiously inquired what had
+detained him so long, and what had been the matter. In the midst of the
+history of his disaster, he was just proving to Patty that his taking
+the hatband to spin his top had nothing to do with his misfortune, and
+he was at the same time endeavouring to refute his uncle's opinion that
+the waste of the whipcord that tied the parcel was the original cause of
+all his evils, when he was summoned to try his skill with his _famous_
+bow.
+
+'My hands are benumbed; I can scarcely feel,' said he, rubbing them and
+blowing upon the ends of his fingers.
+
+'Come, come,' cried young Sweepstakes, 'I'm within one inch of the mark;
+who'll go nearer? I shall like to see. Shoot away, Hal! But first
+understand our laws; we settled them before you came upon the green. You
+are to have three shots with your own bow and your own arrows; and
+nobody's to borrow or lend under pretence of other's bows being better
+or worse, or under under any pretence. Do you hear, Hal?'
+
+This young gentleman had good reasons for being so strict in these laws,
+as he had observed that none of his companions had such an excellent bow
+as he had provided for himself. Some of the boys had forgotten to bring
+more than one arrow with them, and by his cunning regulation that each
+person should shoot with his own arrows, many had lost one or two of
+their shots.
+
+'You are a lucky fellow; you have your three arrows,' said young
+Sweepstakes. 'Come, we can't wait whilst you rub your fingers, man;
+shoot away.'
+
+Hal was rather surprised at the asperity with which his friend spoke. He
+little knew how easily acquaintance who call themselves friends can
+change when their interest comes in the slightest degree in competition
+with their friendship. Hurried by his impatient rival, and with his
+hands so much benumbed that he could scarcely feel how to fix the arrow
+in the string, he drew the bow. The arrow was within a quarter of an
+inch of Master Sweepstakes' mark, which was the nearest that had yet
+been hit. Hal seized his second arrow.
+
+'If I have any luck----' said he.
+
+But just as he pronounced the word _luck_, and as he bent his bow, the
+string broke in two, and the bow fell from his hands.
+
+'There, it's all over with you!' cried Master Sweepstakes, with a
+triumphant laugh.
+
+'Here's my bow for him, and welcome,' said Ben.
+
+'No, no, sir,' said Master Sweepstakes, 'that is not fair; that's
+against the regulations. You may shoot with your own bow, if you choose
+it, or you may not, just as you think proper; but you must not lend it,
+sir.'
+
+It was now Ben's turn to make his trial. His first arrow was not
+successful. His second was exactly as near as Hal's first.
+
+'You have but one more,' said Master Sweepstakes; 'now for it!'
+
+[Illustration: _'The everlasting whipcord, I declare.'--Page 241._]
+
+Ben, before he ventured his last arrow, prudently examined the string of
+his bow; and, as he pulled it to try its strength, it cracked. Master
+Sweepstakes clapped his hands, with loud exultations and insulting
+laughter. But his laughter ceased when our provident hero calmly drew
+from his pocket an excellent piece of whipcord.
+
+'The everlasting whipcord, I declare!' exclaimed Hal, when he saw that
+it was the very same that had tied up the parcel.
+
+'Yes,' said Ben, as he fastened it to his bow, 'I put it into my pocket
+to-day on purpose, because I thought I might happen to want it.'
+
+He drew his bow the third and last time.
+
+'Oh, father,' cried little Patty, as his arrow hit the mark, 'it's the
+nearest! Is it not the nearest?'
+
+Master Sweepstakes with anxiety examined the hit. There could be no
+doubt. Ben was victorious! The bow, the prize bow, was now delivered to
+him; and Hal, as he looked at the whipcord, exclaimed:
+
+'How _lucky_ this whipcord has been to you, Ben!'
+
+'It is _lucky_, perhaps, you mean, that he took care of it,' said Mr.
+Gresham.
+
+'Ay,' said Hal, 'very true; he might well say, "Waste not, want not." It
+is a good thing to have two strings to one's bow.'
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[A] _Vide_ Priestley's 'History of Vision,' chapter on coloured shadows.
+
+
+
+
+The Bunch of Cherries
+
+
+On the first day of May, Madame de Clinville, the widow of a Notary of
+Paris, conducted her daughter, fourteen years of age, to the delightful
+garden of the Tuileries, there to breathe the pure air of spring and the
+sweet perfumes from its flowers. In passing through the walks leading to
+the royal palace, the young lady's attention was attracted by one of the
+shops, supplied with the choicest and most rare fruits; among which was
+a bunch of cherries, arranged with so much taste, and so prettily
+intermixed with fresh green leaves, that she could not forbear
+expressing to her mother her anxious desire to have those cherries,
+notwithstanding she could foresee at that season they must be
+extravagantly dear. Madame de Clinville, who never denied her daughter
+anything, and who was in general very plain and moderate in her
+inclinations, purchased the bunch of cherries, although dear, and
+proceeded with her dear Emmelina--her daughter's name--to the Tuileries.
+
+Having surveyed the beautiful walks of this truly enchanted place, they
+seated themselves on chairs under the shade of a large chestnut tree.
+It was scarcely ten o'clock in the morning, the hour most agreeable for
+walking, and frequently the most retired, as the fashionables of Paris
+seldom make their appearance before three or four o'clock, and in a
+_déshabille_ that bespeaks them just arisen from their beds, as if to
+behold the sun for the first time. As such, Madame de Clinville and her
+daughter met with very little company.
+
+The only object that struck their attention was a lady with the remains
+of beauty, whose external appearance indicated a person of quality,
+accompanied by a young lady, nearly Emmelina's age, dressed in white and
+a small green hat ornamented with a wreath of white pearls, which shaded
+the most amiable countenance. They both came and seated themselves near
+Madame and Miss de Clinville, when the young stranger could not keep her
+eyes from the bunch of cherries, and remarked to the lady who was with
+her: 'How fresh and beautiful they are!' Anxiety was depicted in her
+eyes and in every action, and at length, slowly advancing towards
+Emmelina, with the most affable condescension, she said: 'What a
+delicious nosegay you have there, miss! The freshness of it can only be
+compared with your complexion.'
+
+'It would be a better comparison with your own,' answered Madame de
+Clinville; 'for, with your pretty green hat, one might justly say:
+"Behold the cherry under the leaf."'
+
+'It is surprising to me,' added the young stranger, 'that miss does not
+eat these fine cherries, no less gratifying to the taste than sight.'
+
+'They are my mother's gift,' modestly answered Emmelina, 'and, being so
+rare, I really cannot enjoy them alone. If you, miss, will condescend to
+divide them with me!--_the happiness of sharing with others that which
+we possess enhances the value of its enjoyment_.'
+
+'These last words, which Emmelina pronounced in the most expressive
+manner, made a lively impression on the young lady.
+
+'How can you withstand a favour said with feelings and sentiments so
+interesting?' demanded the handsome lady who escorted her; at whose
+advice, attended with a sign of approbation, the young stranger accepted
+the first cherry from the delightful bunch.
+
+Emmelina presented the second to her mother, and the stranger offered
+the third to her charming companion; and the two young folks ate of them
+by turns till there remained only the leaves. They entered into
+conversation, when Madame de Clinville endeavoured by several judicious
+and direct questions to ascertain the name of the pretty green hat; but,
+perceiving the lady make a sign of caution to the unknown, she ceased
+further interrogatories, and they mutually adhered to the customary
+civilities, and separated with assurances of the pleasure so agreeable
+an interview had excited.
+
+On returning home, Madame de Clinville and her daughter observed that a
+servant in red livery had followed them, who appeared to examine very
+minutely the number of the house in which they lived, and from that
+circumstance concluded the strange lady wished to learn their place of
+residence, notwithstanding she had taken every precaution to conceal her
+own, or the most distant knowledge of the young person in the green hat.
+
+Several months having elapsed, Madame de Clinville thought no longer of
+the Tuileries adventure, when one morning, while at breakfast with
+Emmelina and Gustavus, her only son--a pupil at the Imperial Academy,
+seventeen years of age--the porter of the lodge entered the apartment,
+holding in one hand a ripe pineapple, and in the other a note, directed
+to Mademoiselle de Clinville, the contents as follows:
+
+[Illustration: _The happiness of sharing with others that which we
+possess enhances the value of its enjoyment.--Page 244._]
+
+     'Having been presented with two pineapples, permit me to offer
+     you one of them, and to recall to mind your own impressive
+     sentiment--_The happiness of sharing with others that which we
+     possess enhances the value of its enjoyment._
+
+                          'THE LITTLE GREEN HAT.'
+
+In vain did Madame de Clinville and her children question the porter to
+know who brought this note. He answered:
+
+'It was a messenger, who, upon leaving the parcel, went away without
+saying a word.'
+
+Emmelina at once decided upon sharing the pineapple with her mother and
+brother, which they regarded but as a return for the bunch of cherries;
+but were still the more perplexed from a desire to know the two
+strangers. In a short time the porter again entered Madame de
+Clinville's house with a rich china vase, in which was an orange tree of
+an uncommon size in full bloom, with a second letter, which was, as
+usual, directed to Emmelina, and contained these words:
+
+     'I received yesterday for my birthday fête, _Ste Clotilde_, two
+     orange trees like the one sent you; condescend to accept of
+     one. _The happiness of sharing with others that which we
+     possess enhances the value of its enjoyment._'
+
+The porter informed them it was conveyed by the same person, to whom he
+had put several useless questions.
+
+'What!' said Emmelina, 'am I never to know who this charming Clotilde
+is, with the green hat?'
+
+'Let me try,' said Gustavus; 'I will undertake to find her out. Describe
+her as exactly as you can.'
+
+'She is about my size,' answered his sister, 'but a much better figure
+than I am. Her grace displays a prepossessing _je ne sais quoi_; her
+regular and noble features are enlivened by an air of sweetness and
+gaiety that attracts and at the same time interests you; fine auburn
+hair flows in ringlets on her lovely neck; and the whiteness of her skin
+adds still greater beauty to her fine large blue eyes, the vivacity and
+expression of which seem to penetrate to the bottom of your heart, and
+to guess every thought.'
+
+'From this picture,' said Gustavus, 'I foresee that, if I discover the
+unknown belle, I shall be repaid for my trouble on beholding her. Rely
+upon my wish to serve thee, no less than the person in whom I already
+sensibly feel so many charms are blended to admire.'
+
+Gustavus exerted every effort to meet with the beauty in the green hat,
+the description of whom was engraven on his heart no less than on his
+memory. He sought her at all the public walks, theatres, balls,
+concerts, and, in short, every private society in Paris, yet could not
+possibly discover the slightest or most distant trace of her.
+
+A month had elapsed when Emmelina, on her return from taking a walk,
+found upon her work-table a white silk basket, ornamented with
+embroidery, which, she was informed by her waiting-maid, was brought by
+a careful person. Not doubting it came from the amiable Clotilde, she
+opened the basket in her mother's presence, and found it contained every
+species of sweetmeat accompanied by a polite note, wherein the stranger
+mentioned having been a god-mother, and, loaded with presents, she had
+adopted Emmelina's maxim, which never was obliterated from her
+remembrance, and which she had actually worked in golden letters in
+front of the basket, with a bunch of cherries, ornamented with leaves,
+in embroidery--viz.: '_The happiness of sharing with others that which
+we possess enhances the value of its enjoyment._'
+
+This tasty specimen of ingenuity created the most pleasing and grateful
+sensations in the breasts of the Clinville family, who, though
+distressed beyond measure at receiving so many anonymous gifts, by the
+manner in which they were offered were obliged to accept them. Emmelina
+and Gustavus therefore hesitated not to partake of the various and
+delicious confectionery with which the basket seemed entirely filled,
+but great was their surprise to discover underneath the sweetmeats
+half-a-dozen elegant fans, six dozen pairs of gloves, and, lastly, a
+beautiful white cashmere shawl with a broad border highly and elegantly
+finished.
+
+'I cannot,' said Emmelina, 'think of wearing these rich articles without
+knowing from whom they come; simple cherries, offered with a truly
+hearty welcome, do not merit such considerable presents.'
+
+'I commend thy discretion,' said Madame de Clinville to her; 'every
+instance denotes the rank and fortune of these charming strangers, and
+denies us the power to make them amends, as an exchange of presents can
+only be made with our equals; we must, therefore, take care of the
+handsome shawl till we can discover the person who has sent it.' Also
+the gloves and fans were carefully preserved in the elegant basket, and
+they contented themselves with doing justice to the delicacies.
+
+Gustavus, although one of the first pupils at the Imperial Academy,
+frequently shared them with his sister, and daily repeated, while eating
+them: 'Oh, generous and charming green hat, I will find thee. Who would
+not, even the most callous, aspire to the honour and happiness of
+knowing thee? Yes, yes, I will discover thee....'
+
+But, alas, his renewed researches were as unsuccessful as the former. In
+vain did he pursue every green hat he perceived at a distance in Paris,
+but could not find that similarity of grace, youth, beauty, and
+expression of which his sister had drawn so faithful and prepossessing a
+picture.
+
+Emmelina, being no less desirous than her brother to gain a knowledge of
+the person with whom she had divided her cherries, prepared a note for
+the porter to deliver, at the same time giving him strict orders to send
+it by the next person that came, which note was directed _To the
+charming Green Hat_ ... as follows:
+
+     'If the sensibility of your heart correspond with the charms of
+     your countenance, you must approve of the resolution I have
+     taken not to make use of all the presents with which you have
+     favoured me. I therefore assure you they are placed under my
+     mother's care, who suffers no less than myself from the cruel
+     secrecy in which you persist.
+
+                          'EMMELINA DE CLINVILLE.'
+
+The porter, faithful to the execution of his orders, was not long the
+holder of the note. Two days after the same messenger presented himself
+at the lodge, and was preparing to go away as usual, after having left
+the parcel, when the porter, formerly a soldier, and still full of
+vigour, seized him by the collar, and called loudly for Gustavus, who,
+followed by his mother and sister, quickly descended to know from whence
+he came, but neither entreaties, threats, nor the promise of reward
+could prevail with this good man, who merely said the parcel was
+delivered to him by an old servant in red livery, who had given him a
+crown for his trouble, and being well recompensed he would not betray
+the trust reposed in him.
+
+'Since you are so discreet,' said Emmelina, 'I am sure you must be
+obliging. Do me the favour to deliver this note to the same servant from
+whom you received the parcel; that will not bring your discretion, for
+which I commend you, into question, and I shall be obliged by your
+compliance.'
+
+'If you only require me to give the note,' answered the porter, 'I will
+do it willingly, and you may rely on my punctuality. You need not follow
+me, for you will lose both your time and trouble....' At these words he
+speedily departed with Emmelina's note.
+
+Anxious to know the contents of the newly-arrived parcel, which appeared
+much heavier than any hitherto, Gustavus was himself eager to open the
+envelope, and found a handsome uniform for an artillery officer, with an
+elegant sabre, to which was attached a green morocco portfolio that
+contained this writing:
+
+'My relation, the Minister at War, according to annual custom, on my
+birthday presents me with an officer's commission, for those of my
+family or friends who merit it. I beg you to accept it for your brother
+as a due reward for his success at the Imperial Academy. If, as I doubt
+not, he should signalize himself in his military career, and become a
+hero, all I request of him is to follow your maxim: _The happiness of
+sharing with others that which we possess enhances the value of its
+enjoyment._'
+
+To the above was added a lieutenant's commission of artillery, with
+orders to join the appointed regiment in eight days. Gustavus conceived
+it a dream, for that which he so ardently desired and least expected to
+be provided by the generosity of a beautiful young stranger, whose
+delicacy redoubled the value of the gift. 'And,' said he, 'shall I take
+my departure without knowing, seeing, or thanking her?'
+
+'There is a mode,' exclaimed Madame de Clinville, with her eyes beaming
+with recollection and delight. 'We must introduce ourselves this day to
+the Minister at War, and request an interview; we may then learn from
+him to whom we are indebted for this happy event....'
+
+'You are right,' replied Gustavus; 'let us go to him directly.' He
+dressed himself in the regimentals, which to his great surprise exactly
+fitted him. Emmelina and her mother dressed themselves elegantly, and in
+an hour's time all three arrived at the Minister's house, who received
+them with most polite affability, and, conceiving they were acquainted
+with their young benefactress, said: 'In acceding to the anxious
+solicitations of Miss de St. Leon I am only doing justice to her
+deserving protégé as I can trace in M. de Clinville's countenance a
+goodness that will render him worthy all the interest I can devote to
+him, and which I promise you he shall ever experience.'
+
+'Miss de St. Leon! Miss de St. Leon!' repeated Gustavus.
+
+'Most likely,' added Madame de Clinville, 'she is the daughter of the
+general who, by his great exploits, has attained one of the highest
+posts under Government, and is one of the Emperor's greatest favourites.
+We must learn where he lives, and go to him directly.'
+
+'Let us,' said Emmelina, 'enter the first library and examine the Court
+calendar, and we shall find this so much desired address.' Upon which
+they discovered the general resided at the village St. Honoré, near the
+Elysée, and thither speedily repaired.
+
+Emmelina desired the porter to announce that M. de Clinville, an
+artillery officer, and his family requested a moment's interview with
+Miss de St. Leon. The porter shortly returned with a footman, who had
+orders to introduce the ladies and the newly-appointed officer to the
+great hall where Miss de St. Leon delayed not to attend them.
+
+She was in the same dress and green hat, ornamented with white pearls,
+which she wore on meeting her in the Tuileries, accompanied by the same
+lady, whom she called her aunt. She advanced precipitately to Emmelina,
+and, embracing her, said: 'Forgive me for having deceived you with
+secrecy, and wounded your delicacy.' She then added, with sensible
+emotion: 'I wished gradually to give you a proof of those sentiments you
+inspired me with on our first meeting, and convinced, by the inquiries I
+made, that your greatest ambition was to obtain a commission for your
+brother, and from the high character given of him by the head masters of
+the academy my aunt and I have (in the absence of my father with the
+army), without difficulty obtained him that which will add to the
+country's service another brave soldier, and to your worthy family the
+completion of your wishes, and, lastly, to myself the happiness of
+proving to you the high value I set on your delicious bunch of cherries
+which you obliged me to partake of, and how strong an impression the
+sentiment which accompanied them has made upon my remembrance.' To which
+at first Emmelina made no reply, but affectionately embraced and saluted
+her.
+
+Madame de Clinville could not forbear requesting permission for the same
+indulgence.
+
+Gustavus, with all the vivacity of a young French officer, and eager to
+realize the good opinion formed of him, exclaimed with an heroic accent:
+'How long the time seems ere I shall take my station under the Imperial
+Eagles. If I do not in a year merit the cross of honour His Majesty
+shall be welcome to erase me from the list of the brave....' As soon as
+he found his amiable benefactress had carried her goodness so far as to
+find out his tailor, to whom she gave the order for his first
+regimentals, his surprise ceased that they fitted so well.
+
+'To complete this day of joy,' said Miss de St. Leon's aunt, 'I hope
+these ladies and the young lieutenant will dine with us, so that we may
+enjoy as long as possible the felicities they have been the means of
+promoting.'
+
+Madame de Clinville readily accepted the invitation, but requested leave
+to return home, when herself and children departed, and at the
+dinner-hour made their appearance dressed in the clothes they wore at
+the Tuileries meeting, but in addition to Emmelina's simple dress was
+displayed the rich cashmere shawl, one of the fans, and a pair of gloves
+received from the green hat, who sensibly felt this mark of attention.
+
+They seated themselves at table, when Miss de St. Leon discovered, on
+unfolding her napkin, a small case containing a ring set with three
+brilliants. Underneath the mounting was engraved: _A token of lasting
+gratitude...._
+
+She immediately put the ring on her finger, and declared she never would
+part from it. In Emmelina she found a constant and sincere friend, in
+Gustavus an officer of exalted rank by his important services to his
+country. Miss de St. Leon and Emmelina, in their frequent interviews and
+the participations of their sweetest endearments, repeated together:
+'_The happiness of sharing with others that which we possess enhances
+the value of its enjoyment._'
+
+
+
+
+The Fugitive
+
+
+On the evening of the day which succeeded that of the visit to the Fairy
+Island the baronet and his family were seated in the drawing-room, and
+Lady Clairmont was arranging with her husband their plans for the
+reception of their uncle, Mr. Geoffrey Clairmont, from whom a letter had
+been just received intimating his intention of being with them the next
+day to a late dinner, but requesting they would not make any material
+addition to their table, as a white soup, a turbot, a little venison,
+and a pheasant would be all he should require, or if his fancy stood for
+any _bonnes bouches_, his factotum, Monsieur Melange (his valet, cook,
+and occasional secretary) would bring materials for preparing them.
+
+The party were amusing themselves with admiring the modest simplicity of
+the old gentleman's bill of fare when Denton, the house-steward, ran in,
+and, staring wildly around, exclaimed: 'Thank goodness everybody is
+here!' then, darting forward to an open door which looked upon the lawn,
+he shut and locked it, and slammed down the sashes with the greatest
+precipitation, then, turning to Sir William, said: 'Pray, sir, please
+to come out of the room with me this moment.'
+
+The baronet followed him outside the door, while the careful servant,
+still holding it ajar, added: 'Pray, ladies and gentlemen, don't stir
+out of this room, pray don't.' He then shut and locked the door.
+
+'Why, what ails you, Denton; what is all this about?' said the baronet.
+'One would think you had been bit by a mad dog.'
+
+'Not exactly that, Sir William,' replied the man, quivering in every
+limb, 'but I fear we may all be bit, before an hour is over our heads,
+by something quite as bad.'
+
+He then informed his master that the keeper of a caravan of wild beasts
+had just come to the castle, and stated that in going through the
+nearest market-town his vehicle had been upset, and the damage which
+ensued had given an opportunity for one of his most valuable animals, a
+Bengal tiger, to make its escape, that he and two of the keepers had
+tracked it as far as the Warren on the Clairmont estate, and he had come
+to beg assistance from the castle, while the other two stood armed on
+each side a gap in the Warren where they thought it was hid, and from
+whence, should it attempt to issue, they hoped, by help from Sir
+William, to intercept its free egress.
+
+'They want ropes and blankets and coverlets from the servants' beds,'
+added Denton, 'to spread over the gap, which things they mean to fasten
+down on each side, and then lure the beast to the entrance by the scent
+of his usual food, when he will try to force himself through the
+coverings; then they can lay hold of his smothered head without fear,
+and easily slipping a noose round his neck convey him in this manner
+back to his old quarters.'
+
+'By all means let them have what is necessary,' said the baronet, 'and
+tell the grooms to keep the stable-door locked, and get in the horses.
+It is not likely that the creature will come near the house till he is
+starved into a visitation, but let the gamekeeper and his men be ready,
+and muster what arms you have.'
+
+'To be sure, Sir William, it shall be done,' said the frightened
+steward, as he walked cautiously across the hall, looking on every side
+as he advanced.
+
+'Well,' said the baronet laughing, as he returned to the drawing-room,
+'two such _gourmands_ in one four-and-twenty hours is one too many sure
+enough. Here's a tiger come amongst us to-day by way of _avant-courier_
+to Uncle Geoffrey.'
+
+'A tiger!' cried both the boys. 'Oh, where, father? But you are joking?'
+
+'No; 'tis a plain fact, according to Denton,' said Sir William, whose
+information he then gave, and added: 'Though I have no apprehension of
+the animal coming here I must beg you all to move upstairs, and keep in
+the house till it is secured.'
+
+'Secured; how can that be? it must be shot,' said William, adding: 'Pray
+don't let Fred and me go upstairs with the misses, father. We can load a
+gun, and take aim now as well as we shall do at five-and-twenty.'
+
+'Pray let us go, father,' said Frederick; 'it would be such a thing for
+me to say in India that I had shot a tiger in England.'
+
+'But,' said Mr. Stanhope, 'do you not think it would be better if the
+poor creature's life could be preserved? Its death must be a great loss
+to its owner, and life is, no doubt, happiness to the creature itself.
+Why terminate the existence of any animal by which we are not annoyed,
+and which is not necessary to our subsistence? We certainly have no
+right to do so.'
+
+'Then you would not even kill a moth, Mr. Stanhope?' said Julia.
+
+'No, that he would not, I dare say,' said Agnes; 'dear little
+silver-wings. Mr. Stanhope knows that clippings of Russia leather and
+cedar-shavings will keep the little creatures off our shawls and muffs,
+and why should not the pretty things live and be happy?'
+
+'Are you the patroness of the spiders too, little girl?' said William.
+
+'I would put one out of my room,' said Agnes, 'if I found one there, but
+certainly I would not kill it, for you know it does me no harm, and
+surely it was intended that spiders should have some place to live in,
+or they would not have been made.'
+
+'You are a very considerate miss,' said William; 'but, at all events, we
+cannot afford any free place for tigers in this country. So come, dear
+father, let us have guns, and go with you and Mr. Stanhope, for I am
+sure neither of you intend to stay cooped up here. I promise to be under
+orders, and not move an inch in any way without permission.'
+
+'And I make the same promise,' said Frederick eagerly.
+
+'And I can answer for both,' said Mr. Stanhope warmly, 'that neither of
+those young gentlemen will fail to keep his word.'
+
+'Thank you, dear sir,' said the youths in the same breath.
+
+'Mother, grandmother, you don't wish us to stay here,' said William;
+'you would not like to see us milk-sops?'
+
+'Certainly not, my dears,' said the dowager. 'While you move under your
+father's directions your mother and I can have nothing to fear. Courage
+is a virtue indispensible in a man and a gentleman, and like other
+virtues is confirmed by exercise. You need not walk into the tiger's
+mouth, you know; but if you find him likely to do mischief, and you can
+prevent it, I hope you will retain your self-possession so as to make
+sure aim, and pull your trigger firmly.'
+
+'Never fear, grandmother; never fear, dear mother,' cried the youths.
+
+'Good-bye, Bill; good-bye, Freddy,' said all the sisters.
+
+'Now, father, shall we go?'
+
+'What say you, Mr. Stanhope,' asked the baronet, 'will you make a sortie
+with us.'
+
+'Most willingly,' replied the tutor. 'I have a brace of trusty pistols
+in prime condition, and with a gun shall feel well equipped.'
+
+'Well, then, ladies, adieu for the present,' said Sir William; 'you had
+better go up to the observatory; you may see all our movements from
+thence.'
+
+'An excellent thought,' replied Lady Clairmont; and away went the female
+party to their high station, while the gentlemen, well furnished with
+arms, walked out into the park, looking with keen inquiring eyes on
+every side as they went on. No enemy, however, appeared, but in about
+ten minutes, having taken the direction of the western lodge, they were
+surprised by the sight of a coach-and-four coming rapidly along.
+
+'By Jove, 'tis the Clairmont livery! 'tis Uncle Geoffrey, as I am
+alive!' exclaimed Sir William. 'What day of the month is this?'
+
+'The seventeenth,' said Frederick.
+
+'His letter says he shall be here on the eighteenth,' rejoined the
+baronet. 'Well, he must put up with what he can get for his dinner, and
+thank his own want of punctuality for his bad fare.'
+
+'Oh, poor Sheldon, what a fuss he will be in,' said Frederick laughing.
+'The turbot is taking his pastime in the waters, and the pheasant in the
+woods. Unfortunate Uncle Geff!'
+
+At this moment a tremendous shout or rather yell was heard in the
+direction of the Warren on the left, and at a considerable distance, but
+it grew louder and approached nearer every moment.
+
+'There is certainly something in the wind now,' said the gentlemen.
+Every eye was upon the alert, and the carriage within two hundred paces
+of our party.
+
+'Ha, there he goes!' said William.
+
+'There he goes!' cried Frederick, as the tiger darted across the park
+towards the carriage. 'He'll make at the horses. See! see! he has
+actually fastened upon poor Culina! No, 'tis Apicius, uncle's grand
+favourite. Look at the horses, how they rear and tear away!'
+
+'Now,' said Sir William, 'a little in this direction to be out of his
+side-sight. Remember we must act in concert, and all fire at his head at
+the same moment. A single bullet would but interrupt his attentions to
+poor Apicius, and call them to ourselves, but two brace must surely
+disable him.'
+
+'Oh, father,' cried William, 'how terrified the horses are! See how they
+plunge and rear, first on one side the road, then on the other; they
+will upset poor Uncle Geff to a certainty. Look, the footman leaps off
+like lightning, and now the coachman follows him. See, they are climbing
+up into the old oak, and leave the horses to their fate, the cowards!
+The poor beasts are perfectly mad. Now they have done it. The fore-wheel
+has struck against the curbstone and flown off, and now the hind-wheel
+on the same side is off too, and down goes the carriage. I'm sure I
+heard poor Uncle Geff cry out, but the tiger still keeps hold on the
+horse's shoulders.'
+
+'Now there's a moment's pause,' said the baronet. 'Fire at his head!'
+They did so, and their aim was so just that the creature fell instantly,
+but his efforts to rise, in which he nearly succeeded two or three
+times, filled the crowd which was now assembling with dismay.
+
+'Mr. Stanhope will lend you his pistols, boys,' said Sir William. 'Go
+nearer, if you like, and share the honour of giving the beast his
+quietus.'
+
+The youths took the arms exultingly, and advancing boldly towards the
+animal, who still writhed in fearful strength, they fired again at his
+head, and he then sunk to rise no more. It seems he had actually taken
+refuge in a hollow of the Warren, but the keepers had secured the
+entrance so imperfectly that he easily effected his escape.
+
+A loud cry of 'Victory! victory!' was uttered by the surrounding
+multitude, and the words 'Brave boys!' 'True Clairmonts!' were many
+times repeated by the crowd.
+
+'And now let us see after poor Mr. Clairmont,' said Sir William, going
+up to the carriage, which lay on its side. The two _stout gentlemen_ who
+had clambered up into the oak, seeing the enemy breathless, had summoned
+courage to descend, and were trying to pacify and unharness the
+trembling horses.
+
+'How are you, my dear sir? how are you, Mr. Clairmont?' said the
+baronet, speaking aloud, not being able to see into the carriage.
+
+'_What_ am I, you mean, nephew,' roared out the old gentleman. 'Why I am
+a perfect mass of blanc-mange, bruised to a universal pulp.'
+
+[Illustration: _'There he goes!'--Page 261._]
+
+'I hope not,' replied the baronet; 'no bones broken, I trust?'
+
+'Bones! I don't think I've such a thing as a bone belonging to me no
+more than if I had been hermetically sealed in a register-boiler. I tell
+you I'm nothing but a huge fricandeau; you may cut me in slices, and
+take me out piecemeal.'
+
+'I am happy to hear you are in a state to make merry with your
+misfortunes, my dear sir,' rejoined Sir William; 'but, seriously, how
+shall we manage to get you out?'
+
+'The tiger is dead as Napoleon, uncle, and lies at the feet of your
+favourite Apicius,' said William.
+
+'And the horses are taken off,' added the baronet; 'but I fear the
+raising of the carriage to assist your descending cannot be effected
+without giving you some more severe jolting. Where is your valet?
+Perhaps he can help you if the coach-door be got open. Melange,' cried
+Mr. Clairmont, 'are you dead or stupid?'
+
+'Ni l'un ni l'autre, monsieur,' replied the servant doggedly.
+
+'Then pray bestir yourself, and get me out of this miserable ruin. Don't
+you hear them say the tiger is killed? Why do you stay sprawling here
+looking as ghastly as if he were grinning at you in all his glory?'
+
+Melange began to move.
+
+'There now,' said his master, 'you have set your foot on the bottle in
+the side-pocket; there it goes--a bottle of my finest claret!'
+
+Melange popped his head over the perpendicular floor of the carriage,
+and seeing the tiger positively dead he sprang out with great facility,
+and appeared to have received no other injury than certain indications
+of culinary luxuries which besprinkled his habit so plentifully as to
+give his tailor (had he seen it) hopes of an ample order for a refit.
+
+'Well, Melange,' said Sir William, 'what measure are you about to take
+for your master's relief?'
+
+'The carriage must be unpacked, Sir William,' said the valet
+consequentially, 'and then monsieur may be raised so gently as not to
+suffer any farther inconvenience.'
+
+He then, with the assistance of his two fellow-servants, removed all the
+packages from the boot, etc., etc., and by the help of the numerous
+bystanders propped up the carriage, and assisted his master to descend,
+the skirts of whose coat bore evident marks of the course the claret had
+taken when it escaped from its imprisonment in the flask, while his
+trousers and stockings appeared to have been liberally complimented with
+Ude's delicious _consommé_ at the moment of the grand squash.
+
+Lady Clairmont, having seen all from the observatory, had sent a sofa
+and pillows for her uncle's accommodation, which arrived at this moment,
+and the baronet, with Mr. Stanhope's aid, placed the old gentleman upon
+it in a state of comparative comfort, the boys trying to arrange the
+cushions and pillows for him, while an air of good-humoured contempt
+mingled with their assiduities.
+
+'Ah, my poor friend, Apicius,' he exclaimed on seeing the dying horse
+panting beside the prostrate destroyer, 'nothing can be done for you, I
+see. Lead him away if possible, and put him out of his pain as
+mercifully as you can. Fine creature. I cannot bear to look at him; he
+little thought, when he pranced off so stately yesterday morning, that
+he was coming to feed the hounds at Clairmont, and a tit-bit they will
+find him; he's in capital condition. Pray let him be taken away.'
+
+'I think we had better take care of you first, dear sir,' said his
+nephew, 'but I fear you will not find a dinner to your taste this
+evening. There will be two dishes minus at least, for we did not expect
+you till to-morrow, the eighteenth--the day you named.'
+
+'Ha, that was an unlucky mistake of Melange which we found out too late.
+He put the paper before me and dated the letter; but, however, as things
+have turned out it is of no consequence. I shall take no dinner to-day,
+but some pearl-sago, enriched with a good dash of old Jamaica. You must
+let me have a warm bath, nephew, and bid them put me to bed directly,
+and in two or three days, perhaps, all will be set to rights. Hope Lady
+Clairmont and all your family are well. How do you do, Mr. Stanhope?
+Excuse me, I can't pretend to see anybody for the next eight-and-forty
+hours. By this management I, perhaps, may escape a fit of the gout,
+which has certainly received a most pressing invitation to take intire
+possession of me, even on the very heels of the dog-days. Ha, William,
+how are you, my boy? and dear Freddy, how are you? How wonderfully you
+are both grown. No need to inquire if you are well; you must have been
+playing a capital knife and fork this last year, young gentlemen, but
+that's not surprising; you live in clover here at old Clairmont as
+usual. Fat Scotch cattle and black-faced sheep in the meadows, and a
+crowd of noble bucks in the park.'
+
+'Et les poissons,' said Melange, edging in his remark as he stood making
+some arrangement required by his master. 'Les jolis poissons qui
+s'élèveront de temps hors l'eau, pour dire à leur façon vous êtes les
+bienvenus, Messieurs, nous aurons l'honneur de vous régaler. Ah, c'etait
+un coup d'oeil ravissant.'
+
+The boys laughed aloud, and Mr. Stanhope could hardly preserve his
+gravity, but Sir William gave Melange a look that seemed a deathblow to
+his flippancy, for he moved off directly to the care of his jars and
+hampers.
+
+'And your pheasants, how are they? Suppose you have had grouse this
+fortnight? However, for fear of the worst, I've brought a few brace. Are
+your partridges lovable? But I forgot; you never disturb them till next
+month. But I should not dare to touch them if you could set me down to a
+covey just now; my stomach would take it fearfully amiss if I were to
+call upon it for any service at present, after all the bumpings and
+thumpings it has just suffered. But stay, before they carry me off I
+should like to ascertain the extent of the mischief we have sustained.
+Melange, get into the carriage and examine the contents of the
+sword-case and all the little private recesses. What a ruin it is!'
+
+The valet skipped in.
+
+'Well, is the _curaçoa_ safe?'
+
+'No, sir, the bottle is smashed to atoms.'
+
+'Not a drop left?'
+
+'Not a drop, monsieur.'
+
+'Well, it was a liquor fit for the gods, and George the Fourth--made
+after old Goddard's recipe. His late Majesty used to say he never tasted
+any so excellent. And my "Treatise on the Wines of the Ancients," where
+is it?'
+
+'Here, sir'--holding it up outside the coach-door.
+
+'Actually seasoned with sardines; not a page legible, I fear. And
+there's the "Cook's Oracle," dumb as a fish, drowned in claret, and a
+new edition of "Ude" soaked, I'm aware, in one of his own delicious
+_consommés_. This is sad work, indeed! And the glaze?'
+
+'Smashed, monsieur.'
+
+'Oh, ruin upon ruin! Best portable soup in the kingdom! Only three men
+in England can make it. However, Melange is one of the three. The
+edible nests[B] and the Strasburg livers?'
+
+'Quite safe, sir.'
+
+'The potted char, and the Scotch laver? The limes, and the olives, and
+the dravolinas?'
+
+'Tout est à merveille, monsieur.'
+
+'Then how have my medicines fared?'
+
+'They were put in the boot with the ginger, the parmesan, the Westphalia
+hams, and the reindeer tongues,' said Melange.
+
+'Now then, come down and see if the colchicum sherry, l'eau médicinale,
+gout mixture, cogniac, vespetro, noyau, and old Jamaica are safe.'
+
+Melange examined, and reported, 'Perfectly safe, sir.'
+
+'And the lachryma christi, Hermitage hock, and tokay, with the West
+India sweetmeats?'
+
+'All right.'
+
+'Well, 'tis an untoward business enough, but it might have been worse,
+nephew,' said Mr. Clairmont, consoled to think all his hampers were in a
+sound state.
+
+'True, sir,' replied Sir William, 'infinitely worse. You have escaped
+broken bones, and out of four horses have lost only one.'
+
+'Then are all the rest safe and sound, coachman?' asked his master.
+
+'Quite well, sir, only terribly frightened, like some of us,' replied
+the man, smiling on one side of his face, and blushing as well as he
+could on the other, 'but life is sweet to us all, and who would not have
+run away from that frightful beast?' looking at the tiger.
+
+'What a beautiful animal it was!' said Mr. Stanhope to William.
+
+'Very beautiful indeed, sir,' replied William, 'and if I were rich I
+would buy its coat, and make a present of it to mother for a hearthrug.'
+
+'A very good thought, my boy,' said Mr. Clairmont, 'and you shall have
+it, if it is to be sold.'
+
+'Are you the proprietor of this unfortunate animal?' said the baronet.
+
+'I am, sir,' said one of the three men who were standing guard over the
+dead tiger, and waiting for an opportunity to ask the baronet for the
+loan of a cart to convey it to the town where their caravan was waiting.
+
+'What do you ask for the skin?' demanded Mr. Clairmont.
+
+The man named his price, and the demand, though somewhat exorbitant, was
+complied with, greatly to the satisfaction of the two youths, who were
+anxious to have it in the family as a memento of this, to them,
+important day. Sir William then ordered the tiger to be conveyed to the
+butchery, and uncoated preparatory to the operation the currier would
+have to perform on the skin previous to its exhibition in the
+dining-room.
+
+'Well, now, my good Melange,' said Mr. Clairmont, beckoning him to come
+near, and whispering coaxingly, 'you will see all our valuables safe
+before you leave them.'
+
+'Sans doute, monsieur, n'ayez pas peur, I have sent Foster on to the
+house for a cart, and shall have everything conveyed to that apartment
+you are accustomed to occupy. Of course we shall be there?'
+
+'Are we to have our old lodgings, nephew?' said Mr. Clairmont.
+
+'If you please, sir,' replied the baronet; 'your bedroom is as usual in
+the west angle, on the ground floor, close to the bath, which is the
+situation you have always preferred.'
+
+'Ha, thank you, that is comfortable. You hear, Melange?'
+
+'Oui, monsieur.'
+
+'And now, nephew, if your carriers be ready say the word, and let us be
+moving, for I begin to feel terribly stiff and awkward in the sinews,
+and shall be right glad to find myself in a steaming bath. Don't
+forget,' added he to his servant, 'the gout-stool and the moxa, and all
+necessary for a good shampooing, and remember to have the sago ready for
+me on coming out of the bath. Now make haste, for here comes the cart.
+Be alive, Foster, as you were when you clambered up the oak like a
+squirrel.'
+
+'My valet shall attend you till Melange has made his arrangements,' said
+Sir William. 'No doubt your apartments are in perfect order by this
+time; so come, chairmen, take up the sofa, and go gently.'
+
+The men began their march, and the baronet walked on at a brisk pace to
+apprise Lady Clairmont that the whole family had a respite of
+eight-and-forty hours.
+
+Mr. Stanhope and his pupils lingered behind, walking on very slowly till
+the men were out of hearing with their burden, and William then
+exclaimed:
+
+'Go, you genuine sybarite! Uncle of mine, I would not accept the gift of
+all your estates if your gourmandizing be entailed on them.'
+
+'Neither would I,' said his brother. 'It is impossible for a man to be a
+more devoted slave to his appetite than our great-uncle Geff. The slave
+of the ring in the Arabian Nights' Entertainments had a holiday life of
+it in comparison. Perhaps it is wrong to say it, but really I feel quite
+disgusted with him. As father truly says, "All his conversation has
+reference to the sustenation of his insatiable maw," and we shall all be
+glad when this animal infliction is over.'
+
+'Gourmandizing,' said Mr. Stanhope, 'is indeed a vice which fearfully
+degrades a man from the rank he was born to hold as a rational being,
+and I trust you will never either of you be under the dominion of such a
+tyrant.'
+
+'We should both of us,' said William, 'revolt at the idea of being an
+object of contempt to others, such as Uncle Geff is now to us.'
+
+'That's plain English,' replied Frederick, 'but not the most polite
+thing to say of one's venerable great uncle, brother Bill, and who has,
+moreover, just now given you that superb tiger's skin.'
+
+'The fear of the world's contempt,' said Mr. Stanhope, 'though salutary,
+ought not to influence our conduct so much as the consciousness that,
+while excess clogs our intellects, we become incapable of the virtuous
+exertions we might otherwise make, and that of the talents we have thus
+smothered we must one day render an account.'
+
+'And yet there are, I have heard, some men of great abilities and
+eminent virtue who are said to eat enormously,' said Frederick.
+
+'True,' replied the tutor, 'extreme hunger is, in some constitutions, a
+rapid effect of intense study, and the appetite may be innocently
+gratified while it rather adds to the impetus of thought than checks its
+advance. Excess begins when the perceptions become weak and indistinct
+by indulgence. Every person is able to judge for himself when he
+approaches that point, and, if he respect himself, he will stop short of
+it. Such men as those to whom you allude feel renovated by their meal,
+and return to their intellectual pursuits with increased alacrity, but
+the _veritable gourmand_ divides his existence between the contemplation
+of what his dinner shall be, the pleasure of eating, and the labour of
+digesting it.'
+
+'It is very odd in Uncle Geff to bring his eatables and his cook to
+Clairmont. I wonder father will suffer it. What a larder this modern
+Lucullus carries about with him!' said Frederick.
+
+'Why, father has indulged him in the practice so many years that I
+suppose he does not think it worth his while to set his face against it
+now,' replied William. 'Besides, Melange is a superb cook. Sheldon finds
+it his interest to keep well with him, and gets into many of his
+culinary mysteries, of which father reaps the benefit when he is obliged
+to give great dinners. As to the Frenchman himself, it is easy to see he
+is the master of his master, and holds him fast by the stomach, as it
+were, by a talisman.'
+
+'What an honourable bondage for a man who is proud of his descent from
+men who were hand and glove with the conqueror,' said Frederick,
+laughing.
+
+A servant now came out upon the lawn to say tea had been waiting some
+time. The youths and their tutor hastened to the drawing-room, when
+William and his brother were congratulated on the fortunate issue of
+their rencounter with the tiger. Their gentle mother shed a tear of joy
+as she kissed the cheek of each darling child, and the dowager expressed
+herself happy at seeing they had proved themselves worthy descendants of
+the Clairmonts.
+
+'Emily,' said she to her grand-daughter in the joy of her heart, 'what
+do you think of your brothers now? Do you not think they will indeed
+prove an honour to the family, and realize in their manhood all the
+anticipations of youth? For my part, I feel so much obliged to our
+grand-dame Cicely Dewberry at the present moment, that I can hardly find
+words to express myself in due terms; that task I shall, therefore,
+leave to you.'
+
+Emily coloured at this remark, but, after a pause, replied:
+
+'I am so much pleased that my brothers have acquitted themselves with
+honour that I am equally at a loss for words with your ladyship.'
+
+The evening passed most agreeably, and the conversation was animated and
+interesting from the topics the occurrences of the day gave birth to. As
+for Lady Clairmont, she was, indeed, greatly pleased with the present of
+her new hearthrug, and Sir William ordered the body of the tiger to be
+deposited under the oak in which the servants had found shelter, saying
+that, some time or other, he might probably put down on that spot some
+solid memento of the event.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[B] The nest of a bird found in the southern latitudes, considered a
+delicacy by the natives, particularly by European epicures.
+
+
+
+
+The Butcher's Tournament
+
+
+Marmaduke Mumbles was the son of a worthy butcher in the village town of
+Scrambles.
+
+He was an only son, and as such, of course, petted by his father and
+spoiled by his mother.
+
+Mrs. Mumbles had been in early life a lady's-maid, and, while in her
+waiting upon the Honourable Miss Languish, was employed not so much in
+millinery as novel reading, which she used to read to her young lady
+from morning till night, and from night till morning.
+
+The tales which took the fancy of the Honourable Miss Languish, and
+which were echoed from the mouth and mind of Miss Squeamish were those
+of 'high romance,' as it is termed. Young, handsome, virtuous, and
+valiant heroes going through more wonderful adventures than our poor
+Mosette in her nine lives, and poor Neddy Bray in his, I do not know how
+many.
+
+Then there must be, to please these novel readers, extraordinary
+situations, wonderful incidents, perplexing difficulties, overwhelming
+disasters, strange providences, and miraculous escapes, together with a
+proper assemblage of old castles, ruined tombs, yawning cloisters, grim
+vaults, mouldering coffins, unearthly sounds, awful visitations,
+spiritual appearances; ghosts in white sheets, with bleeding bosoms:
+hobgoblins with saucer eyes, fierce claws, and long tails; and
+catastrophes so tremendous as to set the hair on end, and convulse the
+whole frame with the delight of tenor, and the tenor of delight.
+
+Such was the food of Miss Squeamish, afterwards Mrs. Mumbles, in her
+early days.
+
+And she used to read and read and read till she looked upon the world in
+which she had to get her living as no world of hers, but a sort of
+common sphere made on purpose for tradespeople, washer-women, and
+cart-driving. She revelled in a world of the romances, where everything
+was made as it _ought to be_, where the virtuous were always rewarded
+and the wicked always punished, where high and noble sentiments met with
+the reception they deserved, and disinterestedness was duly appreciated,
+where passion and impulse, unmixed with the care of consequences, were
+held as the glory of both sexes, and everything that was fair and bright
+and beautiful, and free and elegant and good, shone triumphantly to the
+glory of the heroes and heroines who figured always so splendidly in
+these romantic pages.
+
+But at last all these bright visions were to end. Miss Languish died of
+a consumption brought on from lying in bed night and morning to read
+novels. And Miss Squeamish, afterwards Mrs. Mumbles, was forced to turn
+out into the world to seek her living--into that very world which was so
+odious to her. But there was no resource, and so the lady who had been
+identified with so many heroines was obliged to set up as a milliner and
+dressmaker in the little town of Scrambles.
+
+But the poor young woman soon found out that things were carried on in
+this world in a manner radically different from that in which the
+romances pictured. She soon found out that mutton was eightpence
+halfpenny a pound, and that if she did not look well after her butcher
+she would find her pound and a half of mutton chops weighing not quite a
+pound and a quarter; that bread was ten-pence a loaf, and that the baker
+was no more romantic than the butcher, and would, unless he was checked
+every day, find means to put down a 'dead one'; and that the milkman's
+chalk had got a notch in it, and would make two strokes instead of one.
+In short, that there was at the bottom of this best of all possible
+worlds a vast amount of sheer roguery.
+
+The consequence of Miss Squeamish's want of a knowledge of all this was
+that she soon found out the impossibility of being able to make things
+come together--'to make ends meet'--as the saying is.
+
+She floundered about in her business for a year or two, but grew poorer
+and poorer, got in debt largely with her grocer, baker, and butcher, and
+at last was obliged to stop for want of funds.
+
+But it is an old proverb that 'when one door shuts another opens,' and
+this was the only part of Miss Squeamish's philosophy which had ever
+come true. No sooner was her shop shut up than the bills came in, and
+with Mrs. Shambles' bill the copy of a writ, so that Miss Squeamish was
+on the high road to a prison. But fortune sometimes favours those who
+will not favour themselves, and it somehow or other happened that Miss
+Squeamish pleaded so eloquently for herself and her destitute situation
+with Mr. Mumbles, the very fat butcher and her principal creditor, that
+he agreed to cancel his debt and pay the others on condition that Miss
+Squeamish would become Mrs. Mumbles.
+
+And Mrs. Mumbles she did become. For Mr. Mumbles was very rich, and
+although in person he was not very imposing he made up in quantity for
+what he wanted in quality, and the prospect of plenty of meat and a good
+name to one destitute of either had such an effect on Miss Squeamish as
+to put to flight all her visionary ideas of perfection--love in a
+cottage and platonic affection--and she settled down, in appearance at
+least, as a very spruce butcher's wife, and took to caps, aprons, and
+blue ribands.
+
+Mr. Mumbles was a thrifty man, and had been so all his life. He was
+about fifty years of age, and not disposed to alter his habits, but he
+required Mrs. Mumbles to alter hers. He proceeded, therefore, to give
+his worthy spouse some initiatory instructions in the art of jointing a
+scrag of mutton, cutting out a pluck, or chinning a whole sheep upon an
+occasion. This was very different from novel reading. She had, indeed,
+read of knights cleaving their adversaries from the 'chaps to the
+chine,' and of 'sticking to the heart,' and sometimes fancied, as she
+made a blow upon some unfortunate leg of mutton, which required
+shanking, that this would she do to the Knight of the Black Visage, or
+the cruel Tyrant of the Bloody Tower, or the Renegades of the Cross, or
+any other anti-hero, so that it might be said romance was _scotched_ in
+her, not killed, as we shall hear in the sequel.
+
+After Miss Squeamish became Mrs. Mumbles she determined to endeavour to
+'civilize' her husband, as she called it. It did not follow because he
+was a butcher that he was to have butchering ideas for ever, or that he
+was to know nothing of 'literature,' as she termed it--that is, novels.
+Mr. Mumbles had read 'Puss in Boots,' 'Jack the Giant Killer,' 'Tom
+Thumb,' 'Jack and the Bean Stalk,' 'Whittington and his Cat,' and
+'Mother Goose' in his childhood. In his boyhood he had gone through
+'Robinson Crusoe,' 'The Pilgrim's Progress,' and 'The Seven Champions of
+Christendom,' and therefore knew there was something in the world
+besides scrags of mutton.
+
+Having made these discoveries Mrs. Mumbles was determined to put her
+husband under regular training, to win him, by degrees, from his boorish
+estate to that of poetry and refinement. She looked at his unwieldy
+bulk--it was not exactly the size for a hero, but then she thought of
+bluff Harry the Eighth, who was both stout and romantic, and the Field
+of the Cloth of Gold, and so as Mr. Mumbles became romantic she made up
+her mind to put up with his stoutness.
+
+Mr. Mumbles had no other relaxation on a summer's evening than a game of
+bowls, but as his fat increased so did his difficulty of playing this
+noble game. He used to think that once down it would require something
+more than the levers of his legs to lift him up again. So just as Mr.
+Mumbles had made up his mind within himself to leave off bowls did Mrs.
+Mumbles think of making him a hero outright. But she went cautiously
+about her work. She knew that to change the man she must first change
+the mind, and therefore she commenced her operations upon the mental
+part of Mr. Mumbles.
+
+Her first thought was as to the kind of hero she was to train him into.
+She would not like him to be a 'Jack Sheppard,' for fear he might break
+into some lady's heart with a crowbar of his impudence. Nor would she
+like him to be a 'Eugene Aram,' for fear he should make a mistake and
+hang her some night instead of himself. He seemed fitter for a 'Jack
+Falstaff' than anything else. But Falstaff was too witty for a hero, and
+she thought, perhaps, that if he laughed any more he would be only so
+much the fatter.
+
+She therefore put into his hands the most sentimental exotics of the
+publishing firms. There was the 'Elegant Maniac; or, the Snuff-coloured
+Rose and the Field of Silver,' a beautiful romance. Then there was the
+'Sentimental Footpad; or, Honour among Thieves.' And 'Syngenesia,' the
+last of the melancholies; with the 'Knight of the Snorting Palfrey; or,
+the Silken Fetlock.' These works she read to Mr. Mumbles on evenings
+instead of suffering him to repair to his bowls, and after a short time
+had the satisfaction to find him a ready and an eager listener. She read
+and read and read, and he became more and more interested, till at last
+he could scarcely find time to serve a customer if one happened to come
+in when the hero was in some 'interesting situation.'
+
+And so Mr. Mumbles began to find his business decline, for at last he
+would have his novel in his hand on a Saturday night, and would ask his
+customers concerning this or that book, which he happened to have been
+reading during the week. He would forget to joint the loins of mutton,
+to pickle the stale beef, to send out his orders; in short, his
+customers were treated with such neglect that his trade, long
+vacillating between going on and going off, suddenly stopped.
+
+Nor did Mr. Mumbles care a whit for it, as he was rich when his father
+died, had grown richer since, and was worth at least ten thousand pounds
+in houses, lands, and money. He would soon have given up his business
+had it not given up him, and therefore when somebody told him it was
+time to 'shut up shop,' he said: 'Yes, and I intend to do it.'
+
+Suiting the action to the word he forthwith began to retire. All the
+beasts and beastesses were sold off with the goodwill of the shop, the
+blocks, cleavers, hooks, and jemmies. And Mr. Mumbles planned out a
+house in a secluded spot about a mile from the town. It was to be called
+Mumbles Castle, and was to be built in the old English or baronial
+style, with turrets, low doors, battlements, arch windows, and gothic
+mouldings. The grand hall was twenty feet by fifteen, the armoury half
+the size, the refectory fourteen by fourteen. A long passage leading to
+the adjacent pigsties was called the corridor, and the bedchambers, four
+in number, were dignified with the names of the griffin room, the
+martlet, the rampant lion, and the wild boar, such being a part of the
+newly-formed armorial bearing of the Mumbles.
+
+The adjacent grounds were also laid out in a style corresponding with
+the castle. There was, among other arrangements for the comfort and
+delight of visitors, a tournament court, an archery ground, and a
+hawking mound. Certainly they were not of very extraordinary dimensions,
+but they were rather beyond the general scale of the other parts of the
+building. Mrs. Mumbles had in contemplation to give a grand fête of some
+kind or other. Mumbles talked of the house-warming, but that was vulgar.
+But at last, to ease all difficulties on this score, Master Marmaduke
+Tristram St. George Mumbles was born.
+
+When it was ascertained that provision for a baby was necessary Mr.
+Mumbles determined that everything should be conducted according to the
+established laws of chivalry. But having searched in vain among romances
+to find how such matters were managed, he gave up the matter in despair.
+He found that all romances having come to a marriage suddenly stopped.
+This was very perplexing, but there was no help for it, and as Master
+Marmaduke was in a hurry to come into the world he was born before his
+father and mother could arrange the solemn order of the proceedings.
+
+But both Mr. and Mrs. Mumbles were determined that the christening
+should be conducted upon a scale of all conceivable splendour. There was
+no precedent for it, but then there was less likelihood of any mistake
+or more room for the fancy. But a gothic christening it was to be--a
+gothic christening it should be--a gothic christening it must be.
+
+And what would redound to the glory of so mighty an event? This was the
+consideration, this was the feat to be achieved. Mr. and Mrs. Mumbles
+had many a discourse upon the subject at breakfast, dinner, and supper,
+at morning, noon, and night, but still the happy idea was too good to
+strike them suddenly.
+
+At last Mrs. Mumbles had a dream. She dreamed of a tournament, and of
+all the glory of such an event. Polished helms, furbished arms, clang of
+trumpets, waving of banners and plumes, clouds of dust, clash of swords,
+unhorsing of knights, and outcry of heralds. When she awoke, she said
+emphatically to Mr. Mumbles, as he was beginning to take his morning
+yawn: 'I've hit it'; and gave him a sharp stroke on his wigless pate.
+
+'I think you have,' said Mr. Mumbles, 'and I would thank you not to hit
+quite so hard. But what do you mean, my dear Celestia?'
+
+'Mean,' replied the delighted spouse--'mean that I have hit upon a plan
+for doing honour to the birth of our son and heir, of the propagator of
+the glory of our house, and of the renowned name of Mumbles.'
+
+'Have you, by gowls?' said Mr. Mumbles. 'What is it?'
+
+'A tournament,' said she, 'a tournament, that glory of the chivalric
+ages; will it not be gloriously delightful to see once more "the light
+of other days" upon us? To see those battlements decked with the banners
+of the house of Mumbles, to hear the clarion ring, to listen to the
+strains of martial music, to see the lounge and thrust and anvil blow,
+knights unhorsed, armour riven, helms cloven.'
+
+'It would be a good go,' said Mr. Mumbles.
+
+'A good go; it would be a go and three-quarters--at least, according to
+your own phraseology. I think myself truly happy at having been blessed
+with such a revelation, and pray that I may be strengthened to perform
+my part of the ceremony.'
+
+'And what may that be?' said Mr. Mumbles.
+
+'Why of course I must be the queen of beauty, and you must be my king
+consort. The knights, having arranged themselves, must, first of all,
+pay their respects to me, and then the victor must kneel before me, and
+receive from my hands the richly-embroidered scarf and the crowning
+garland.'
+
+'Well, it will be a grand day--an epoch in my existence--a sort of hera.
+I think they call it a _hera_. And if we could get the band of the
+Scrambles Volunteer Company it would be excellent; if not, I think I
+know some music that would suit.'
+
+'What is that?' inquired Mrs. Mumbles.
+
+'The marrow-bones and cleavers; they are very pretty music, and I should
+like _them_, band or no band.'
+
+'The marrow-bones and cleavers,' said Mrs. Mumbles in astonishment.
+
+'Yes,' said Mr. Mumbles, 'it was my glory when I was a boy, and we used
+to have them all rung at christenings and weddings. I have heard say
+that at my christening and at my mother's marriage they rang a treble
+bob-major.'
+
+'And pray, what is a bob-major?' inquired Mrs. Mumbles. 'I have heard of
+a serjeant-major and a drum-major, but never heard of a bob-major.'
+
+'A bob-major,' rejoined the elated butcher, 'is a long tune, that
+puzzles you to know when you will get to the end of it, and so you stand
+and wait and wait, till at last, all of a sudden, it stops.'
+
+'And how does it go, my dear? Is it a pretty tune?'
+
+'I should think it _was_ a pretty tune--like the church bells, only more
+cutting, as it might be expected, from its coming from cleavers. It has
+made me cry like a child, Mrs. Mumbles.'
+
+'I hope it won't make baby cry.'
+
+'I hope not; but, cry or no cry, we must have it, and any other music
+you like.'
+
+This point being settled the ardent pair began to prepare, with the
+greatest alacrity, for the forthcoming fête.
+
+Mrs. Mumbles declared that no expense should be spared to make the
+proceedings go off with éclat, and Mr. Mumbles began to fidget himself
+concerning the tournament laws, rules, and regulations.
+
+The principal difficulty was, however, in inducing others to take a part
+in this strange whim. Had it been bull-baiting or badger-drawing or
+cock-throwing or horse and donkey racing, hundreds would have been found
+ready to engage in the sport. But for a tournament! Most people did not
+even know the name of it, and Mr. Mumbles' description was in no way
+calculated to elucidate its mysteries, so that few seemed to care about
+lending themselves to the fête.
+
+There was, however, in the town of Scrambles a sharp dapper lawyer's
+clerk, who saw at once into the affair and what a frolic it might be
+made. He therefore wrote a civil note to Mr. Mumbles, in which he
+expressed his delight at the forthcoming novelty, and offered himself as
+a candidate for the white silken scarf which was to be the reward of the
+victor in the field.
+
+The letter being couched in chivalric language, and ornamented with
+armorial bearings, delighted Mr. and Mrs. Mumbles above all things. They
+now felt a prospect of the realization of their fondest hopes, and began
+to prepare accordingly. The lawyer's clerk, whose name was Quiddity,
+also set about publishing the whole of the matter abroad. He soon
+succeeded in inducing a number of young men and maidens to favour the
+joke, and to lend themselves to it. He explained the insane folly of
+this worthy pair with such irresistible drollery that everyone was eager
+to be one of the favoured company.
+
+On the next interview Mr. Mumbles, delighted with the report of
+Quiddity, addressed him with truly dignified solemnity.
+
+'Sir Knight,' said he, 'thou hast done thy spirit gently. Thy wondrous
+works have found favour in mine eyes; be thou our warden from this time,
+and for evermore.'
+
+'With leave to thrust or lance,' said Quiddity; 'for I would not forego
+a rencontre for the lord-wardenship of the cinque ports.'
+
+'Sink me if you shall not tilt with me rather than that you should not
+display your prowess. On the morning of that auspicious day will I
+dissolve thee from the wardenship, and give thee freedom to thy
+knighthood. I will, with my own hands, buckle on thy armour, with my
+right hand place a spear in thy grasp, and with my left salute thee.'
+
+'And for me,' said Mrs. Mumbles, 'I will choose thee for my own dear
+knight, and thou shalt fight under my banner, and be victorious; and
+then, when thou resist from the field of glory, will I embrace thee, and
+thou shalt be the envy of all beholders.'
+
+'We'll _stow_ that,' said Mr. Mumbles, who did not appear to like the
+embracing part of the ceremony. 'But let us now form a committee of ways
+and means--that is to say, let us concoct the thing in a regular
+manner.'
+
+And so the three concoctors sat down to arrange the order of the
+proceedings.
+
+'And, first and foremost,' said Mr. Mumbles, 'we must have seats raised
+round the tilting coast, and a platform built at one end. Then at the
+other end must be a barrier for the knights to come in at; and then we
+must have a long pole _straight across_ the ground, to prevent the
+horses _falling foul_ of each other; and then we must have flags at
+different stations, charged with the armorial bearings of the knights,
+with their crests on the top of them.'
+
+'And then,' said Mrs. Mumbles, taking up the same strain, 'we must begin
+to think of dresses. For my part, I shall wear a white satin robe,
+trimmed with silver lilies, and a scarf of azure blue, richly
+embroidered with gold. Seven ostrich plumes shall wave from my brow; a
+lion's skin shall be spread for my feet; all my jewels shall be
+displayed to the best advantage; and I think I shall, upon the whole, be
+pretty considerably imposing. As to Mr. Mumbles, I intend to have him
+dressed in a manner which shall be unique, imposing, and captivating.'
+
+'We will first draw out a programme of the proceedings,' said Quiddity,
+'and then we can select the various personages who are to be honoured
+with having a part in the ceremony.'
+
+'Good,' said Mr. Mumbles.
+
+'And I shall head it the "Mumblonian Tournament," and publish a
+challenge to all the world to deny the peerless beauty of Mrs. Mumbles.'
+
+'But won't that be coming it rather strong? I should like you to draw it
+pretty mild,' ejaculated Mr. Mumbles.
+
+'Not a bit too strong,' said Mrs. Mumbles, with a toss of her head. 'Go
+on, pray, Mr. Quiddity.'
+
+So Mr. Quiddity went on:
+
+'And then, of course, we should find persons sending in their defiance,
+and extolling other dames, and therefore we should have all our knights,
+squires, horses, armour, and so on.'
+
+'But must we not publish regulations afterwards?' observed Mumbles.
+
+'Of course we must. That is to say, every knight who professes his
+readiness to break a lance must provide himself with horse, weapons, and
+esquire, and send in his certificate of noble blood and knightly
+bearing.'
+
+'But where shall we place the proclamation?'
+
+'On the doors of the church, certainly; upon the "cage"; upon the
+"pound"; and other public institutions of our country.'
+
+'Good,' said Mr. Mumbles; 'I like to honour the institutions of my
+country, and therefore I would not have forgotten the parish pump.'
+
+'Certainly not, my dear sir. Well, then, we must apply to the
+schoolmaster to let us have, on hire, the boys and girls of the national
+schools to walk in order before the procession, with silver wands in
+their hands and blue ribands in their hats, while the girls should be
+dressed all in white like nymphs, and strew flowers.'
+
+'Capital,' said Mr. Mumbles; 'and then we can give them a tuck-out with
+rolls and treacle; won't the boys like it--ay, and the girls too! Lawks!
+how I did laugh once to see girls eat rolls and treacle! They beat the
+boys out and out at that fun. They dabbed the treacle into each other's
+eyes, and roped it over each other's shoulders, and swung it into each
+other's faces, like good 'uns. There is nothing like girls for a spree;
+when they do begin, they beat the boys hollow.'
+
+'Well, then,' continued Quiddity, 'I thought of hiring for a day the old
+workhouse women, to act as matrons or sibyls, as the case may be. They
+will be a pretty contrast to the "gals." And, that they may not cry out,
+we will treat them all to a pound of snuff apiece, and a new dress.'
+
+'And a red brocade petticoat each, and a Margaret of Anjou cap or hat.'
+
+'What, one of those with a long poke behind like a rolling-pin, and a
+veil at the end of it?' said Mr. Mumbles.
+
+'Just so, my dear,' replied the lady; 'and they must have one stocking
+red and the other blue.'
+
+'Ay, ay,' rejoined Mumbles, with an arch look, 'I know the reason of
+that; you fancy but for this expedient that in the _crowd_ the old
+ladies would not otherwise know one leg from the other.'
+
+'You are quite wrong, my dear; but we must follow the ancient costume,
+you know, or else we shall be laughed at.'
+
+'What shall be next?' said Mr. Quiddity.
+
+'Ay, what next, my dear?' said Mrs. Mumbles, who seemed herself to be
+got to her wits' end.
+
+'Why, _I_ was thinking, love, that after the old women we should have a
+bullock, dressed with blue ribands, and garnished with flowers, roasted
+whole.'
+
+'Yes, upon the green, after the sports,' said Mrs. Mumbles; 'and, as I
+should like the whole of the ceremony to conclude with a bonfire and a
+discharge of fireworks, the fire that is to roast the bullock can be
+kept up, which will be killing two birds with one stone, you know.'
+
+And thus the preliminaries for the grand entertainment were settled by
+the three who were to be chief actors in it. Quiddity, in the very
+frolicsomeness of his heart, now canvassed the town, and, with little
+difficulty, succeeded in bringing a number of persons into the plot or
+joke; and banners were prepared, armour was provided, and arms of every
+description brought into requisition.
+
+At last the important day arrived. It was ushered in by a discharge of
+firearms from the back of the butcher's premises. A squadron of horsemen
+next paraded the town on horses, ponies, and donkeys, with the
+marrow-bones and cleavers, and rung most dolorous music. Mr. Mumbles
+arose from his bed at earliest dawn, and, having breakfasted, set to
+enrobing himself as a grand grandee of the first order. His dress was of
+the time of Louis XIV. of France, frilled and furbelowed; and, when
+fully arranged, Mr. Mumbles looked like a real Prince, and Mrs. Mumbles
+held up her hands in astonishment and delight.
+
+The back premises of Mr. Mumbles had been already prepared; a rude
+scaffolding, with seats, skirted three sides of a quadrangle, to which
+admission was to be obtained for the small charge of one penny, the
+whole of the proceeds to go to the Institution for the Cure of
+Rheumatism. The people mustered in large numbers, and, although the
+tournament joust did not boast of many lords and ladies, or persons of
+high ancestral lineage, yet everyone was, according to Adamic heraldry,
+a perfect gentleman or lady in their own right; for they all bore
+_arms_, with the exception of Jack Sprat, the bellman, who could only
+muster one, with which he rang his bell.
+
+In the centre of the platform, at the upper end, was a raised seat, and
+a canopy over it. The seat was covered with yellow baize, and the canopy
+was formed of the hangings of Mr. Mumbles' best spare bed. It was red,
+bordered with yellow, which hung in fanciful festoons, and a
+richly-carved bed-foot on each gave the whole a very imposing
+appearance. On this raised seat, which was made to hold two, were placed
+two armchairs, richly gilt, and around these were other chairs for
+persons of distinction, who now began to arrive in pretty considerable
+numbers. First, there was the Grand Master of the Odd Fellows, with a
+numerous retinue, with their emblematical tools, flags, banners, and
+devices. He entered the arena amid the clang of trumpets and the roll of
+drums, and proceeded to the place assigned him. Then came the President
+of the Anti-Lie-a-Bed Society, with a whole troop of boys and girls who
+had been cured of this great sin by drinking half a pint of yeast
+overnight, which made them _rise early_ in the morning. They were
+received by 'artificial cock-crowing' by the gallant showman, who had a
+place assigned him as underwarden. Then came a batch of young damsels,
+all in white, being chimney-sweepers' daughters; and after them a
+flourish of trumpets--that is, _cow-horns_--a squadron of costermongers'
+donkey-lads mounted, with their pocket-handkerchiefs floating from the
+vulnerable point of 'bean-sticks.'
+
+Next came the redoubtable Mr. Mumbles himself, leading Mrs. Mumbles by
+the hand, preceded by the young lawyer Quiddity. He ascended the throne
+provided for him with extraordinary dignity, and, having made a bow to
+the company by putting his hand to one of his curls, as if to pull his
+head down, and giving a scrape with his foot behind, the whole assembly
+burst out with a simultaneous cheer--'Mumbles for ever! Mumbles for
+ever!'
+
+Soon after Mr. Mumbles had seated himself the clang of trumpets was
+heard, and Quiddity appeared on a splendid pony, richly caparisoned,
+with a hearthrug under his saddle as a saddle-cloth, having in one hand
+his baton of office, and in the other a banner. After making his
+obeisance to the king and queen of the tournament, Mrs. and Mr. Mumbles,
+he took his place in the centre. Immediately the horns were blown, the
+mob shouted, and Quiddity read the following proclamation:
+
+    '_To all whom it may concern, and to our beloved Neighbours, greeting,_
+
+'With a view to do away with and put down the cowardly, dastardly, and
+_ungenteel_ sports of bull-baiting, badger-baiting, fox-hunting,
+pigeon-shooting, and other wicked and cruel amusements, we, John Mumbles
+and Co., King of Chivalry, Grand Master of this Tournament, invite all
+persons, gentlemen born, to engage in, and others to _witness_, trials
+of skill, might, prowess, and magnanimity by means of tilt, combat, or
+archery, and all those knights who have been enrolled as true knights,
+worthy to try their prowess in the tilts, are hereby invited to do so
+without fee or reward, fear or distinction.
+
+    'GOD SAVE THE QUEEN.'
+
+'Hurrah! hurrah!' said everybody, and then arose the flapping of white
+pocket-handkerchiefs, the waving of flags, the sounding of horns, and
+the beating of drums. The arena was cleared by Sam Swipes with a long
+cart-whip, and opposite to each other, by separate entrances, appeared
+the first two knights who were to engage--(1) The Knight of the Boiling
+Fish-kettle, (2) The Knight of the Red-hot Copper. The Knight of the
+Boiling Fish-kettle was armed with a splendid helmet of polished metal,
+something resembling a double block-tin dish-cover, No. 3 on the
+bottom; at the top was inverted a red-boiled lobster for a crest, over
+which hung in graceful curves three black cats' tails duly charged with
+electricity. A large pewter-dish formed the breast-plate of this knight,
+while his arms and thighs were plated with bands of tin, which had an
+exceedingly martial appearance. The shield of the knight was the lid of
+the fish-kettle, a broad oblong defence, upon which was painted the
+device of a leg of pork, with the motto 'Porkus est miceabus.' The
+lance-pole of this knight was a clothes-prop, at the end of which a
+pepper-box was duly fixed instead of a lance.
+
+The Knight of the Copper was also mounted on a steed; it was of a
+reddish-brown, and for his saddle-cloth he had chosen a rich damask
+table-cover, which nearly covered the whole body of the animal. He had
+on his head a copper cake-mould in the shape of a porcupine. His
+breast-plate was a richly-figured japanned waiter. His armour consisted
+of muffin-tins fixed over his arms and legs, his crest was a 'scalded
+cat,' and his shield a copper-lid of wood. The copper-lid was painted
+green, and it had for its device a calve's head, with a lemon in its
+mouth, with the motto, 'Calve's head is best hot.'
+
+The knights being set in due array and in proper position, at the sound
+of the herald's trumpets spurred their nags, and went towards each other
+with the velocity of lightning. At the first assault the pepper-box was
+dashed to pieces against the copper-lid, and the fractured fragments
+clattered about the combatants. The next charge upset the Knight of the
+Boiling Fish-kettle and his Rosinante at the same time, and both lay
+wallowing on the ground. Mr. Mumbles on this rose from his seat, and the
+Knight of the Red-hot Copper made his appearance on the throne or
+platform, where, kneeling down, he received at the hands of Mrs. Mumbles
+a beautiful white silken scarf, while the assembly shouted, the drums
+beat, and the trumpets sounded.
+
+[Illustration: _Knights in armour tumbled over their own steeds, donkeys
+ran snorting about, ladies shrieked.--Page 295._]
+
+How long this foolery would have gone on I know not, but just as the
+ceremony was being performed of investing the conqueror knight with the
+silken scarf a loud cracking was heard under the platform. Mr. Mumbles
+looked red, Mrs. Mumbles looked pale, the company stood aghast, the
+music ceased, the uproar was quelled, and the applause subsided. Crack,
+snap, bang! What was the matter? The fireworks placed underneath the
+scaffolding, and which were to have concluded the evening's
+entertainments, had by some means or other ignited. Presently a rocket
+with a loud roar made a sweep in a slanting direction through the canvas
+at the top of the canopy, to the consternation of all. Before the alarm
+subsided, and before anyone could make his or her escape by flight,
+another and another rocket rushed from beneath the scaffolding with
+prodigious roar and flame. The alarm became general; Mrs. Mumbles
+fainted; Mr. Mumbles roared out 'Fire, fire!' as loud as he was able.
+But now the indiscriminate ignition of rockets, crackers, squibs,
+Catherines, fiery fountains, flaming cascades, sparkling arbours, and
+gunpowder and nitre pillars, and suns, stars, and comets enveloped the
+whole throne and its appurtenances in a blaze of fiery splendour.
+Rockets shot out on every side, fiery squibs ran along the ground,
+Catherine wheels danced on every shoulder, and crackers banged at every
+heel. Such a scene of confusion followed as is seldom witnessed. Knights
+in armour tumbled over their own steeds, donkeys ran snorting about,
+ladies shrieked, and fell over gentlemen, and gentlemen tumbled over
+ladies in pell-mell havoc and confusion, amid smoke and steam and
+hissing and cracking and banging and roaring.
+
+It was with the greatest difficulty that Mr. and Mrs. Mumbles were
+extricated from the danger that threatened them--namely, being burnt
+alive. But Mrs. Mumbles was carried home in a wheelbarrow in a state of
+insensibility, while Mr. Mumbles had the same attention bestowed upon
+him through the intervention of a well-disposed hurdle and four of the
+marrow-bone and cleaver musicians.
+
+Such was the untoward end of the Mumblonian tournament, an event not to
+be easily forgotten in the locality in which it took place. It was
+subsequently found out, as it ought to have been discovered before, that
+both Mr. and Mrs. Mumbles had driven themselves mad by novel and romance
+reading, and they were both obliged to be sent to a madhouse for some
+time before they could be cured of their egregious folly. But as they
+_were cured_, it may be said that the circumstances which I have related
+were 'all for the best.'
+
+
+
+
+Malleville's Night of Adventure
+
+
+I
+
+The Story of Agnes
+
+In a few minutes Beechnut returned with a large rocking-chair, which he
+placed by the fire, on one side. He then took Malleville in his arms,
+and carried her to the chair, and sat down. Next he asked Phonny to go
+out into the entry, and look by the side of the door, and to bring in
+what he should find there.
+
+'What is it?' said Malleville.
+
+'You will see,' replied Beechnut. So saying, he placed Malleville in his
+lap in such a position that she could see the door and the fire. Her
+head rested upon a small pillow which Beechnut had laid upon his
+shoulder. By the time that Malleville was thus placed, Phonny came back.
+He had in his hand a small sheet-iron pan, with three large and rosy
+apples in it. Beechnut directed Phonny to put this pan down upon the
+hearth where the apples would roast.
+
+'Who are they for?' asked Malleville.
+
+'One is for you,' replied Beechnut, 'one for Phonny, and one for me. But
+we are not going to eat them till to-morrow morning.'
+
+'There ought to be one for Hepzibah,' said Malleville.
+
+'Why, Hepzibah can get as many apples as she wants,' said Beechnut, 'and
+roast them whenever she pleases. Only,' he continued, after a moment's
+pause, 'perhaps it would please her to have us remember her, and roast
+her one together with ours.'
+
+'Yes,' said Phonny. 'I think it would.'
+
+'Then,' said Beechnut, 'you may go, Phonny, and get her an apple. You
+can make room for one more upon the pan.'
+
+'Well,' said Phonny, 'but you must not begin the story until I come
+back.'
+
+So Phonny went away to get an apple for Hepzibah. In a short time he
+returned, bringing with him a very large and beautiful apple, which he
+put upon the pan with the rest. There was just room for it. He then set
+the pan down before the fire, and took his own seat in the little
+rocking-chair, which still stood in its place by the side of the
+light-stand.
+
+'Now, Beechnut,' said he, as soon as he was seated, 'now for the story.'
+
+'What sort of story shall I tell you, Malleville?' asked Beechnut.
+'Shall it be the plain truth, or shall it be embellished?'
+
+'Embellished,' said Malleville. 'I wish you would embellish it as much
+as ever you can.'
+
+'Well,' said Beechnut, 'I will tell you about Agnes.'
+
+'Agnes!' repeated Phonny. 'Who was she?'
+
+'You must not speak, Phonny,' said Malleville. 'Beechnut is going to
+tell this story to me.'
+
+'Yes,' said Beechnut, 'it is altogether for Malleville, and you must
+not say a word about it from beginning to end.'
+
+'One night,' continued Beechnut, 'about three weeks ago, I sat up very
+late in my room, writing. It was just after I had got well from my hurt,
+and as I had been kept away from my desk for a long time, I was very
+glad to get back to it again, and I used to sit up quite late in the
+evenings, writing and reading. The night that I am now speaking of, I
+sat up even later than usual. It had been a very warm day, and the
+evening air, as it came into my open window, was cool and delightful.
+Besides, there was a bright moon, and it shone very brilliantly upon the
+garden, and upon the fields and mountains beyond, as I looked upon them
+from my window.
+
+'At last I finished my writing just as the clock struck twelve, and as I
+still did not feel sleepy, notwithstanding that it was so late, and as
+the night was so magnificent, I thought that I would go out and take a
+little walk. So I put my books and papers away, took my cap, and put it
+upon my head, and then stepped out of the window upon the roof of the
+shed, which, you know, is just below it. I thought it better to go out
+that way rather than to go down the stairs, as by going down the stairs
+I might possibly have disturbed somebody in the house.
+
+'I walked along the roof of the shed, without meeting anybody or seeing
+anybody except Moma. She was lying down asleep behind one of the
+chimneys.'
+
+Moma was a large black cat belonging to Malleville.
+
+'Poor Moma!' said Malleville. 'Has not she got any better place to sleep
+in than that? I mean to make her a bed as soon as I get well.'
+
+'When I reached the end of the shed,' continued Beechnut, 'I climbed
+down by the great trellis to the fence, and from the fence to the
+ground. I went along the yard to the steps of the south platform, and
+sat down there. It looked very pleasant in the garden, and I went in
+there. I walked through the garden, and out at the back gate into the
+woods, and so up the glen. I rambled along different glens and valleys
+for half an hour, until at last I came to a most beautiful place among
+groves and thickets where there was a large spring boiling out from
+under some mossy rocks. This spring was in a deep shady place, and was
+overhung with beautiful trees. In front of the spring was a large basin
+of water, half as large as this room. The water was very clear, and as
+the moonlight shone upon it through the interstices of the trees, I
+could see that the bottom was covered with yellow sands, while beautiful
+shells and pebbles lined the shore.
+
+'The water fell down into the basin from the spring in a beautiful
+cascade. All around there were a great many tall wild flowers growing.
+It seemed to me the most beautiful place I ever saw. I sat down upon a
+large round stone which projected out from a grassy bank just below this
+little dell, where I could see the basin of water and the spring, and
+the flowers upon its banks, and could hear the sound of the water
+falling over the cascade.
+
+'There was a very large oak-tree growing near the basin on the one side.
+I could only see the lower part of the stem of it. The top was high in
+the air, and was concealed from view by the foliage of the thickets. The
+stem of the tree was very large indeed, and it had a very ancient and
+venerable appearance. There was a hollow place in this tree very near
+the ground, which had in some degree the appearance of a door, arched
+above. The sides of this opening were fringed with beautiful green
+moss, which hung down within like a curtain, and there were a great many
+beautiful flowers growing upon each side of it. Another thing which
+attracted my attention and excited my curiosity very strongly, was that
+there seemed to be a little path leading from this door down to the
+margin of the water.
+
+'While I was wondering what this could mean, I suddenly observed that
+there was a waving motion in the long moss which hung down within the
+opening in the trunk of the tree, and presently I saw a beautiful little
+face peeping out. I was, of course, very much astonished, but I
+determined to sit perfectly still, and see what would happen.
+
+'I was in such a place that the person to whom the face belonged could
+not see me, though I could see her perfectly. After looking about for a
+minute or two timidly, she came out. She was very beautiful indeed, with
+her dark hair hanging in curls upon her neck and shoulders. Her dress
+was very simple, and yet it was very rich and beautiful.'
+
+'What did she have on?' asked Malleville.
+
+'Why, I don't know that I can describe it very well,' said Beechnut. 'I
+am not much accustomed to describe ladies' dresses. It was, however, the
+dress of a child. She had in her hand a very long feather, like a
+peacock's feather, only, instead of being of many colours, it was white,
+like silver, and had the lustre of silver. I verily believe it must have
+been made of silver.'
+
+'I don't believe it would be possible,' said Phonny, 'to make a feather
+of silver.'
+
+'Why not?' asked Beechnut, 'as well as to make a tassel of glass?
+However, it _looked_ like silver, and it was extremely graceful and
+brilliant as she held it in her hands waving in the moonbeams.
+
+'After looking about for a minute or two, and seeing nobody, she began
+to dance down the little path to the brink of the basin, and when she
+reached it she began to speak. "Now," said she, "I'll freeze the
+fountain, and then I'll have a dance."
+
+'As she said this, she stood upon the pebbles of the shore, and began
+gently to draw the tip of her long feather over the surface of the
+water, and I saw, to my amazement, that wherever the feather passed it
+changed the surface of the water into ice. Long feathery crystals began
+to shoot in every direction over the basin wherever Agnes moved her
+wand.'
+
+'Was her name Agnes?' asked Malleville.
+
+'Yes,' said Beechnut.
+
+'How do you know?' asked Malleville.
+
+'Oh, she told me afterwards,' replied Beechnut. 'You will hear how
+presently. When she had got the surface of the water frozen, she stepped
+cautiously upon it to see if it would bear.'
+
+'Would it?' asked Malleville.
+
+'Yes,' replied Beechnut, 'it bore her perfectly. She advanced to the
+middle of it, springing up and down upon her feet to try the strength of
+the ice as she proceeded. She found that it was very strong.
+
+'"Now," said she, "for the cascade."
+
+'So saying, she began to draw her silver feather down the cascade, and
+immediately the same effect was produced which I had observed upon the
+water. The noise of the waterfall was immediately hushed. Beautiful
+stalactites and icicles were formed in the place of the pouring and
+foaming water. I should have thought that the cascade had been wholly
+congealed were it not that I could see in some places by the moonlight
+that the water was still gurgling down behind the ice, just as it
+usually does when cascades and waterfalls are frozen by natural cold.'
+
+[Illustration: _Wherever the feather passed it changed the surface of
+the water.--Page 302._]
+
+'Yes,' said Phonny, 'I have watched it very often on the brook.'
+
+'On what brook?' asked Malleville.
+
+'On the pasture brook,' said Phonny.
+
+Beechnut took no notice of Phonny's remark, but went on with his
+narrative as follows:
+
+'Agnes then walked back and forth upon the ice, and began to draw the
+tip of her long silver feather over the branches of the trees that
+overhung the basin, and over the mossy banks and the tall grass and
+flowers. Everything that she touched turned into the most beautiful
+frost-work. The branches of the trees were loaded with snow, the banks
+hung with icicles, and the tall grass and flowers seemed to turn white
+and transparent, and they glittered in the moonbeams as if they were
+encrusted with diamonds. I never saw anything so resplendent and
+beautiful.
+
+'At last she looked round upon it all and said: "There, that will do. I
+wonder now if the ice is strong enough."
+
+'Then she went into the middle of the ice, and standing upon it on
+tiptoe, she sprang up into the air, and then came down upon it again, as
+if she were trying its strength. At the same instant she said or sung in
+a beautiful silvery voice, like a bird, the word, "Peep!"
+
+'When she had done this, she stopped for a moment to listen. I sat
+perfectly still, so as not to let her know that I was near. Presently
+she leaped up again twice in succession, singing, "Peep! Peep!"
+
+'Then, after pausing a moment more, she began to dance away with the
+utmost agility and grace, singing all the time a little song, the music
+of which kept time with her dancing. This was the song:
+
+    '"_Peep! peep! chippeda dee,
+    Playing in the moonlight--nobody to see;
+    The boys and girls are gone away,
+    They've had their playtime in the day,
+    And now the night is left to me.
+    Peep! peep! chippeda dee!_"'
+
+'That's a pretty song,' said Malleville.
+
+'Yes,' said Beechnut, 'and you cannot imagine how beautifully she sang
+it, and how gracefully she danced upon the ice while she was singing. I
+was so delighted that I could not sit perfectly still, but made some
+movement that caused a little rustling. Agnes stopped a moment to
+listen. I was very much afraid that she would see me. She did not see
+me, however, and so she began the second verse of her song:
+
+    '"_Peep! peep! chippeda dee!
+    The moon is for the mountains, the sun is for the sea!_"
+
+'When she had got so far,' continued Beechnut, 'she suddenly stopped.
+She saw me. The fact was, I was trying to move back a little farther, so
+as to be out of sight, and I made a little rustling, which she heard.
+The instant she saw me, she ran off the ice, and up her little path to
+the opening in the oak, and in a moment disappeared. Presently, however,
+I saw the fringe of moss moving again, and she began to peep out.
+
+'"Beechnut," said she, "how came you here?"
+
+'"Why, I was taking a walk," said I, "and I came along this path. Don't
+you want me to be here?"
+
+'"No," said she.
+
+'"Oh, then I will go away," said I. "But how came you to know me?"
+
+'"Oh, I know you very well," said she. "Your name is Beechnut."
+
+'"And do you know Malleville?" said I.
+
+'"Yes," said she. "I know her very well. I like Malleville very much. I
+like her better than I do you."
+
+'"Ah," said I; "I am sorry for that. Why do you like her better than you
+do me?"
+
+'"Because she is a girl," said Agnes.
+
+'"That is a good reason," said I, "I confess. I like girls myself better
+than I do boys. But how came you to know Malleville?"
+
+'"Oh, I have seen her a great many times," said she, "peeping into her
+windows by moonlight, when she was asleep."
+
+'"Well," said I, "I will tell Malleville about you, and she will want to
+come and see you."
+
+'"No," said Agnes, "she must not come and see me; but she may write me a
+letter."
+
+'"But she is not old enough to write letters," said I.
+
+'"Then," said she, "she must tell _you_ what to write, and you must
+write it for her."'
+
+Beechnut observed that, though Phonny and Malleville neither of them
+spoke, they were both extremely interested, and somewhat excited by the
+story, and that he was far from accomplishing the object which he had in
+view at first in telling a story, namely, lulling Malleville to sleep.
+He therefore said to Malleville that, though he had a great deal more to
+tell her about Agnes, he thought it would be better not to tell her any
+more then; but that he would sing Agnes's song to her, to the same tune
+that Agnes herself sung it. He would sing it several times, he said, and
+she might listen, laying her head upon his shoulder.
+
+Malleville said that she should like very much to hear Beechnut sing
+the song, but that after he had sung it, she hoped he would tell her a
+_little_ more about Agnes that night. She liked to hear about her, she
+said, very much indeed.
+
+So Beechnut changed Malleville's position, placing her in such a manner
+that her head reclined upon his shoulder.
+
+'Shut your eyes now,' said he, 'and form in your mind a picture of the
+little dell and fountain, with the frost-work beaming in the moonlight,
+and Agnes dancing on the ice while I sing.'
+
+Then Beechnut began to sing the first verse of the song to a very lively
+and a pretty tune. He could not sing the second verse, he said, because
+he had not heard it all. But the first verse he sung over and over
+again.
+
+    '_Peep! peep! chippeda dee!
+    Playing in the moonlight, nobody to see;
+    The boys and girls have gone away.
+    They've had their playtime in the day,
+    And now the night is left for me.
+    Peep! peep! chippeda dee!_'
+
+Malleville lay very still, listening to the song for about five minutes,
+and then Beechnut found that she was fast asleep. He then rose very
+gently, and carried her to her bed. He laid her in the bed, and Phonny,
+who stood by, covered her with the clothes. He and Phonny then crept
+softly out of the room.
+
+
+II
+
+A Sound Sleeper
+
+About nine o'clock, Hepzibah, having finished her work for the day,
+covered up the kitchen fire, and fastened the outer doors. Beechnut had
+gone to bed, and so had Phonny. Hepzibah went into Phonny's room to see
+if all was safe, and to get the light. She then went into Malleville's
+room.
+
+The room had a very pleasant aspect, although the fire had nearly gone
+down. The lamp was burning on the stand at the foot of the bed where
+Phonny had left it. Hepzibah advanced softly to the bedside. Malleville
+was lying asleep there, with her cheek upon her hand.
+
+'Poor child!' said Hepzibah to herself. 'She has gone to sleep. What a
+pity that I have got to wake her up by-and-by, and give her some
+medicine.'
+
+Hepzibah then looked at a clock which stood upon the mantel-shelf, and
+saw that it was a little past nine. It was an hour or more before it
+would be time to give Malleville the drops. Hepzibah thought that if she
+went to bed, she should fall asleep, and not wake up again until
+morning, for she always slept very soundly. She determined, therefore,
+that she would sit up until half-past ten, and then, after giving
+Malleville the medicine, go to bed. She accordingly went and got her
+knitting-work, intending to keep herself awake while she sat up by
+knitting. When she came back into the room, she began to look for a
+comfortable seat. She finally decided on taking the sofa.
+
+Mary Bell, after using the sofa for Malleville while she was making the
+bed, had put it back into its place by the side of the room. Hepzibah,
+however, easily brought it forward again, for it trundled very smooth
+and noiselessly upon its castors. Hepzibah brought the sofa up to the
+fire, placing one end of it near to the stand, in order that she might
+have the benefit of the lamp in case of dropping a stitch. She prepared
+the medicine for Malleville by mixing it properly with water in a little
+cup, and put it upon the stand, so that it should be all ready to be
+administered when the time should come, and then sat down upon the sofa,
+next to the sofa cushions, which were upon the end of the sofa, between
+herself and the light.
+
+Things went on very well for almost half an hour, but then Hepzibah,
+being pretty tired in consequence of her long day's work, and of her
+want of rest the night before, began to grow sleepy. Twice her
+knitting-work dropped out of her hands. The dropping of the
+knitting-work waked her the first and second time that it occurred. But
+the third time it did not wake her. After falling half over and
+recovering herself two or three times, she at length sank down upon the
+cushions, with her head upon the uppermost of them, and there in a short
+time she was fast asleep.
+
+She remained in this condition for nearly two hours, Malleville in her
+bed sleeping all the time quietly too. When Malleville went to sleep,
+she did so resolving not to wake up for her medicine. She did not
+resolve not to _take_ it, if any one else waked her up for it, but she
+determined not to wake up for it of her own accord. Whether this had any
+influence in prolonging her sleep it would be difficult to say. She did,
+however, sleep very soundly, and without changing her position at all,
+until a little after eleven o'clock, when she began to move her head and
+her arms a little, and presently she opened her eyes.
+
+She looked around the room and saw nobody. The light was burning, though
+rather dimly, and the fire had nearly gone out. She sat up in the bed,
+and after a few minutes' pause, she said in a gentle voice, as if
+speaking to herself:
+
+'I wish there was somebody here to give me a drink of water.' Then,
+after waiting for a moment, she added, 'but I can just as well get down
+and find it myself.'
+
+So saying, she climbed down from the bed, and put on her shoes and
+stockings, singing gently all the time, 'Peep! peep! chippeda dee!'
+
+This was all of Agnes's song that she could remember.
+
+She went toward the fire, wondering who had drawn out the sofa and what
+for, and on passing round before it, her wonder was changed into
+amazement at finding Hepzibah asleep upon it.
+
+'Why,' she exclaimed, in a very low and gentle tone, just above a
+whisper, 'here is Hepzibah. I suppose she is sitting up to watch with
+me. How tired she is.'
+
+She stood looking at Hepzibah a minute or two in silence, and then said,
+speaking in the same tone and manner as before:
+
+'She is not comfortable. I mean to put her feet upon the sofa.'
+
+So saying, Malleville stooped down, and clasping Hepzibah's feet with
+both her arms, she lifted them up as gently as she could, and put them
+upon the sofa. Hepzibah's sound sleep was not at all disturbed by this.
+In fact, her position being now much more easy than before, she sank
+away soon into a slumber deeper and more profound than ever.
+
+Malleville, finding that her first attempt to render Hepzibah a service
+was so successful, immediately began to feel a strong interest in taking
+care of her, and, observing that her feet were not very well covered as
+she lay upon the sofa, she thought it would be a good plan to go and
+find something to cover them up. So she went to a bureau which was
+standing in the room, and began to open one drawer after another, in
+search of a small blanket which was sometimes used for such a purpose.
+She found the blanket at length in the lowermost drawer of the bureau.
+
+'Ah! here it is,' said she. 'I knew it was somewhere in this bureau.'
+
+Saying this, she took out the blanket, and carried it to the sofa, doing
+everything in as noiseless a manner as possible. She spread the blanket
+over Hepzibah's feet, tucking the edges under very gently and carefully
+all around.
+
+'Now,' said Malleville to herself, 'I will make up the fire a little, so
+that she shall not catch cold.'
+
+There were two sticks remaining of those which Beechnut had brought up,
+and they were lying upon the carpet by the side of the fire, near the
+rocking-chair in which Beechnut had rocked Malleville to sleep. The wood
+which had been put upon the fire had burned entirely down, nothing being
+left of them but a few brands in the corners. Malleville took up the two
+sticks, one after another, and laid them upon the andirons, one for a
+back-stick and the other for a fore-stick, as she had often seen Phonny
+do. She then brought up a little cricket in front of the andirons, and
+sitting down upon it there, she took the tongs and began to pick up the
+brands and coals, and to put them into the interstice which was left
+between the two sticks. She did all this in a very noiseless and gentle
+manner, so as not to disturb Hepzibah; and she stopped very frequently
+to look round and see if Hepzibah was still sleeping.
+
+The air soon began to draw up through the coals which Malleville had
+placed between the sticks of wood, and thus fanning them, it brightened
+them into a glow. The brands began to smoke, and presently there
+appeared in one part a small flickering flame.
+
+'There!' said Malleville, in a tone of great satisfaction, 'it is
+burning. Phonny said that I could not make a fire, but I knew that I
+could.'
+
+Malleville had been very careful all the time not to allow her
+night-dress to get near the fire, and now, as the fire was beginning to
+burn, she thought that she must move still further away. She accordingly
+rose, and moved the cricket back. The fire burned more and more
+brightly, and Malleville observed that the light of it was flashing upon
+Hepzibah's face.
+
+'I must make a screen for her,' said she, 'or the flashes will wake her
+up.'
+
+So she went to the bureau again, and brought forth a shawl, one which
+she had often seen her aunt Henry use for this purpose. Then, putting a
+chair between the sofa and the fire, she spread the shawl upon the back
+of it, and found that it produced the effect of keeping the flashes of
+light from Hepzibah's face entirely to her satisfaction.
+
+Malleville then began to wonder whether it was not time for her to take
+her medicine. She looked at the clock, to see if she could tell what
+o'clock it was. She could not, of course, for she had never learned to
+tell the time by the clock. Accordingly, after looking at the hands and
+figures a few minutes in silence, and listening to the ticking, she
+said:
+
+'I cannot tell what o'clock it is, but it looks pretty late. I have a
+great mind to take my medicine myself.'
+
+She then turned to the table, where the lamp and the medicines were
+standing. The cup was there in which Hepzibah had prepared Malleville's
+medicine. Malleville took it up, looked at it, and stirred it a little
+with the spoon.
+
+'I wonder if this is my medicine,' said she. 'I have a great mind to
+take it. But, then perhaps, it is not my medicine. Perhaps it is
+poison.'
+
+So she put the cup down upon the table again, glad, in fact, of a
+plausible excuse for not taking the draught.
+
+'I'll sit down in this rocking-chair,' he said, 'and wait till Hepzibah
+wakes up. She will wake up pretty soon.'
+
+So she went to the rocking-chair and sat down. She began to rock herself
+to and fro, watching the little flames and the curling smoke that were
+ascending from the fire. She remained thus for nearly a quarter of an
+hour, and then she began to be a little tired.
+
+'What a long night!' said she. 'I did not know that nights were so long.
+I wish that Hepzibah would wake up. But I suppose she is very tired. I
+mean to go and look out of the window, and see if the morning is not
+coming. Beechnut said that we could always see it coming in the east, at
+the end of the night.'
+
+Malleville did not know which the east was, but she thought she would at
+any rate go and look out of the window. She accordingly went to the
+window, and pushing the curtains aside and opening the shutters, she
+looked out. She saw the moon in the sky, and several stars, but there
+were no appearances of morning.
+
+There was a bronze ink-stand upon the table near the window, and some
+pens upon it. The idea occurred to Malleville that perhaps she might
+write a little while, to occupy the time till Hepzibah should wake up.
+
+'If I only had some paper,' said she, 'I would write a letter to Agnes.'
+
+Malleville carried the lamp now to the table by the window, and taking
+great care to put it down in a place where it would not be at all in
+danger of setting fire to the curtain, she took the pen and began her
+writing. She worked patiently upon the task for half an hour. The letter
+was then completed. Of course, it is impossible to give any idea in a
+printed book of the appearance of the writing, but the letter itself, as
+Malleville intended to express it, was as follows:
+
+    _Wednesday, midnight._
+
+    'DEAR AGNES,
+
+'I like you because Beechnut says you like me. Please to answer this
+letter.
+
+    'Your affectionate friend,
+
+    M.
+
+Malleville only wrote M. instead of her whole name, Malleville, at the
+bottom of her letter, because, just as she was finishing her work, the
+lamp began to burn very dim. She was afraid that it was going out. So
+she stopped with the M., saying to herself that Agnes would know who it
+was from, and, besides, if she did not, Beechnut could tell her when he
+gave it to her. She folded the note and slipped it into the envelope,
+and then, hastily wetting a wafer, which she found in a small
+compartment in the centre of the bronze ink-stand, she put it in its
+place, and pressed down the flap of the envelope upon it. She then took
+the lamp and went to find a pin to prick up the wick a little, to keep
+it from going out.
+
+She could not find any pin, and the lamp burned more and more dimly.
+
+'I must go downstairs and find another lamp,' said Malleville, 'or else
+Hepzibah will be left all in the dark.'
+
+She turned and looked towards Hepzibah a moment as she said this, and
+then added, 'Poor Hepzibah! How tired she must be to sleep so long.'
+
+She then took the lamp and walked softly out of the room. The stairs
+creaked a little as she descended, though she stepped as carefully as
+she could. When she reached the kitchen door, she found it shut. She
+opened it and went in.
+
+The kitchen was pretty warm, as there had been a fire in it all the day,
+although the fire was now all covered up in the ashes. The andirons were
+standing one across the other upon the hearth, idle and useless.
+Malleville looked about the room for a lamp, but she did not see any.
+The kitchen was in perfect order, everything being put properly away in
+its place.
+
+'I will look into the closets,' said Malleville.
+
+So she opened a closet door and looked in. There were various articles
+on the shelves, but no lamps. She then shut this door, and opened
+another closet door at the back of the room. Here Malleville found four
+lamps standing in a row upon the second shelf. She was very much pleased
+to see them. She took one of them down and carried it to the kitchen
+table, and then lighted it by means of a lamp-lighter, which she
+obtained from a lamp-lighter case hanging up by the side of the
+fireplace. She then blew out her own lamp, and carrying it into the
+closet, she put it up upon the shelf in the place of the one which she
+had taken away.
+
+On the lower shelf Malleville saw, much to her satisfaction, a plate of
+bread with some butter by the side of it. There was a little pitcher
+near, too, and Malleville, on looking into it, found that it was half
+full of milk.
+
+'I am very glad that I have found this,' said she, 'for now I can have
+some supper. I wanted something, and I could not tell what. I know now.
+I was hungry.'
+
+She brought out the bread and butter and the milk to the kitchen table,
+and then drawing up a chair, she began to eat her supper, feeling a most
+excellent appetite.
+
+She went on very prosperously for a time, having eaten two slices of
+bread and drank nearly all the milk, when suddenly her attention was
+arrested by a movement at the head of the kitchen stairs. These stairs
+ascended from very near the door where Malleville had entered the
+kitchen, and as Malleville had left the door open, the light from her
+lamp shone out into the entry, and she could also, while in the kitchen,
+hear any sound upon the stairs. The sound which attracted her attention
+was like that of a person opening a door and coming out. Malleville
+immediately stopped drinking from her pitcher and listened.
+
+'Who is that down in the kitchen?' said a voice. Malleville immediately
+recognised the voice as that of Beechnut.
+
+'I,' said Malleville.
+
+'I?' repeated Beechnut. 'Who do you mean? Is it Malleville.'
+
+'Yes,' replied Malleville.
+
+'Why, Malleville,' exclaimed Beechnut, in a tone of profound
+astonishment, 'what are you doing in the kitchen?'
+
+'I am eating some supper,' said Malleville.
+
+'But, Malleville,' exclaimed Beechnut, 'you ought not to be down there
+eating supper at this time of night. How came you to go down?'
+
+'Oh, I came down,' replied Malleville, 'to get a lamp for Hepzibah.'
+
+'For Hepzibah!' repeated Beechnut. 'Did she send you down there for a
+lamp?'
+
+'Oh, no,' said Malleville, 'I came myself.'
+
+'Where is Hepzibah?' asked Beechnut.
+
+'She is asleep,' said Malleville, 'and you must not speak so loud or you
+will wake her up.'
+
+Malleville could now hear Beechnut laughing most immoderately, though
+evidently making great efforts to suppress the sound of his laughter.
+Presently he regained his composure in a sufficient degree to speak, and
+Malleville heard his voice again, calling:
+
+'Malleville!'
+
+'What?' said Malleville.
+
+'Have you nearly finished your supper?' asked Beechnut.
+
+'Yes,' replied Malleville. 'I have only got a little more milk to
+drink.'
+
+'Well,' said Beechnut, 'when you have drank your milk, you had better go
+directly back to your room again, and get into bed and go to sleep.'
+
+'And what shall I do with Hepzibah?' said Malleville.
+
+'Where is Hepzibah?' asked Beechnut. 'Is she asleep in your room?'
+
+'Yes,' replied Malleville.
+
+'On the sofa?' asked Beechnut.
+
+'Yes,' replied Malleville.
+
+'Then leave her where she is,' replied Beechnut, 'and go to bed and go
+to sleep. If you do not get to sleep in half an hour, ring your bell,
+and I will dress myself, and come and see what to do.'
+
+'Well,' said Malleville, 'I will.' So, taking her new lamp, she went
+upstairs again to her room. Hepzibah was sleeping as soundly as ever.
+
+Malleville, in obedience to Beechnut's directions, after putting her
+lamp upon the stand, went directly to her bed and lay down. She shut her
+eyes to try to go to sleep, thinking of Beechnut's injunction to ring
+the bell if she did not get to sleep in half an hour, and wondering how
+she was to determine when the half hour would be ended. Long, however,
+before she had decided this perplexing question, she was fast asleep.
+
+The next morning Hepzibah awoke at half-past five, which was her usual
+time of rising. She started up, amazed to find that it was morning, and
+that she had been asleep all night upon the sofa in Malleville's room.
+Her amazement was increased at finding her feet enveloped in a blanket,
+and a screen placed carefully between her face and the remains of the
+fire. She went hastily to Malleville's bedside, and finding that the
+little patient was there safe and well, she ran off to her own room,
+hoping that Phonny and Beechnut would never hear the story of her
+watching, and tell it to the men; for if they did, the men, she said to
+herself, would tease her almost to death about it.
+
+When the doctor came the next morning, and they told him about
+Malleville's supper, he laughed very heartily, and said that food was
+better for convalescents than physic after all, and that, though
+patients often made very sad mistakes in taking their case into their
+own hands, yet he must admit that it proved sometimes that they could
+prescribe for themselves better than the doctor.
+
+
+
+
+The Life and Adventures of Lady Anne
+
+
+Chapter I
+
+Of the first years of my life I have but a slight recollection, as I
+suddenly lost my mother by death, and was placed under the care of
+strangers soon after I had completed my fifth year. What passed before
+that time is like the faint remembrance of a long past dream, but it
+seemed to myself that I had lived among ladies and gentlemen--had been
+used to ride in a carriage, to be waited on by servants, who called me
+Lady Anne, and to be fondled by a lady and gentleman, who called me
+Annie, and their little darling, and whom I called father and mother.
+These pleasing visions seemed suddenly to pass away. I no longer saw my
+father, nor the ladies and gentlemen; we were no longer living in a
+large house; our servants were gone, and mother was almost always in
+tears. Then, all of a sudden, we were riding alone in a post-chaise;
+night came on, and we stopped at a house. There mother was very ill, and
+laid in bed, and did not speak to me for several days, and a great many
+people came and talked to her, but she did not answer any of them. At
+last I thought she was asleep, for her eyes were shut, and her hands
+were quite cold; then I wanted to get upon the bed that I might sit
+beside her, but the strange people that were there carried me out of the
+room, and teazed me with questions that I did not understand, or, if I
+had understood them, could not have answered for crying. After this two
+men came and put my mother into a large black box, and took her away.
+
+These are painful remembrances, so sad and so painful that, at this
+distance of time, I cannot think of them without weeping.
+
+What passed immediately after this I cannot remember, for I have been
+told that I had a violent fever, and was ill for a long time. Of all
+these things I have but a confused remembrance, yet I do remember them;
+but the time from which I can clearly recollect is from when I was about
+six years old, and from that period I remember every material
+circumstance of my life as clearly as if I had written them all down as
+they happened. I will now continue my narrative at the time from which I
+can correctly remember. I then found myself living in a large cottage
+with nearly twenty other children. We were under the care of an elderly
+woman, whom we called nurse. This house, I was told, when I was old
+enough to understand the meaning of the expression, was the place where
+the infant paupers, or poor children of the parish, were kept. Of our
+treatment there I have no cause to complain. We were well washed every
+morning, and our clothes were kept clean and tidy; our food was coarse
+and rather scanty, so that we always had a good appetite, yet we had
+sufficient to keep us in a good state of health, and the farmers' wives
+and cottage people who lived near would often give us pieces of bread
+and a little milk, so that, as I said before, we had no cause for
+complaint. Our nurse taught us reading and sewing, and, as she was
+rather a good-natured woman, she would frequently converse with us, if
+the prattle of children can be called conversation, and answer our
+little questions.
+
+I must here make a digression to inform my young readers that, though I
+was a poor child, a mere pauper among a number of others who were not
+any poorer than myself, yet I was always treated with a great deal of
+respect both by the nurse and the other children. I was always called
+Lady Anne, and in all our little plays my companions would choose me to
+be a lady or their queen. Then I would, in a language which seemed
+natural to me, order the carriage for an airing, or propose a saunter in
+the park, or perhaps say we would go to the opera in the evening. The
+girls whom I admitted to the honour of visiting me I would address as
+ladies, and tell some of the others to come and say that 'Her ladyship's
+carriage was waiting,' or that 'Lady Sally's carriage stopped the way.'
+It was on one of these occasions that my nurse said to me:
+
+'Ah, Lady Anne, it is a thousand pities that you are not among the lords
+and ladies you are so often talking about. It was an unlucky chance that
+brought you here, for, poor child, with us you are like a fish out of
+water.'
+
+'What was it that brought me here?' said I. 'How did I come?'
+
+'It is a long story to tell you,' replied she, 'but, as it is about
+yourself, you will not be tired of hearing it; so come, children, get
+your knitting and sit down, and you shall hear how Lady Anne came to
+live among us.'
+
+In a few minutes we all had our knitting, and seated ourselves so as to
+form a semi- or half-circle round the good woman. Curiosity and
+expectation were painted in every countenance, myself the most curious
+and anxious of the whole group, for I often, in my own mind, wondered
+how it was that I no longer saw the gentlemen and ladies who it seemed
+to myself I had been in the habit of seeing, and where my father could
+be gone to, and why everything about me was so different to what it had
+once been. Our nurse having examined our work, and directed us how to go
+on with it, began her little narrative in the following manner:
+
+'It will be two years on the twelfth of next November since one cold,
+wet evening, about eight o'clock, a lady, with a little girl that seemed
+about five years old, stopped at the Falcon Inn at E----. That lady was
+your mother, and that little girl was you, Lady Anne. Well, the chaise
+stopped, and your mother got out, and desired to be shown to a bedroom,
+and ordered tea, and tired and ill the landlady said she looked, but she
+did not know how very ill she really was. Well, after tea she put you to
+bed, and prepared to go herself, and she told the chambermaid to call
+her next morning at eight o'clock, for that, after breakfast, she
+intended to continue her journey. She ordered breakfast too, but, poor
+lady, when the morning came she was in a high fever.
+
+'The good woman of the inn was terribly frightened, as you may suppose,
+at having a strange lady ill in her house, and not knowing whom she
+belonged to, nor whether she had money to pay her expenses, so she went
+to Mr. Sanders, our clergyman, to advise with him what was to be done.
+Then he went to the inn, and looked at your mother, and examined a
+little trunk, which was all the luggage she had. It contained just a
+change of linen for herself and you, and rather more than forty pounds
+in bank-notes and money, but no letters, nor any writing to tell who
+she was. The linen, both yours and your mother's, was marked A. M., and
+the trunk had the same letters in brass nails.
+
+'Then the clergyman asked you your name; you said it was Lady Anne. Then
+he asked you your father's and mother's, and you said it was my lord and
+my lady, and that was all the answer he could get from you, for you did
+not know anything about a surname, and I must say I think it is a very
+foolish thing not to teach children their names and proper directions,
+for if you could have told yours, your friends would have been wrote to,
+and you would now have been with them, instead of being a poor little
+beggar in a workhouse; but I suppose, as your parents kept their
+carriage, they did not think there was any occasion that you should know
+your name and your direction; so much the worse for you.
+
+'But to go on with my story. When Mr. Sanders asked your age, you said
+you were five years old, and that was all he could learn from you. Well,
+your mother was very ill, and did not know anything they asked her; she
+did not even know you, though you sat on the bed, by her, and did all
+you could to make her notice you, but it was all of no use, your poor
+mother could not notice anything. Then a doctor was sent for, and as
+soon as he came he said that the lady would die, but that he would do
+all in his power to save her, and so, I believe, he did, but it was all
+in vain, for on the third evening your mother died. The parish buried
+her very decently, for Mr. Sanders said that, as she had left money, she
+should not be buried like a pauper, and he would have taken you home and
+brought you up, but Madam Sanders said they had a large family of their
+own, and could not be burdened with other people's children, so you were
+sent to me, and I took all the care of you I could, for you had a bad
+fever, and were ill for a long time, and used to talk about lords and
+ladies, and would often say, if the earl would but forgive your father
+and mother you should all be very happy. When you grew better I asked
+you what earl you had been talking about, but you neither knew his name,
+nor what had been done to offend him.
+
+[Illustration: _The arrival at the inn.--Page 323._]
+
+'Mr. Sanders drew up an advertisement that was put into several
+newspapers, describing your mother and you, and telling of her coming to
+E----, and of her death, and begging her friends to come and take away
+the child, or it must otherwise be sent to the parish poor-house; but
+nobody ever sent or came, and the churchwardens would not allow any more
+money to be spent upon advertisements, for they said they must keep what
+was left to pay them for their care of you, as you were left upon their
+hands, and many people said they thought that you and your mother were
+only sham ladies, and that there was some trick in it, but, for my part,
+I always said that you and your mother were real ladies, and so thinks
+Mr. Sanders, for he says he does not know what trick there could be in a
+lady being taken ill and dying. He says he hopes to see the day when you
+will be restored to your friends, and he keeps the little trunk that
+your mother had, and the picture of a gentleman that she wore hung from
+her neck, and two rings; one, I suppose, was her wedding ring, the other
+is a very handsome one, and has hair in it and letters, and a great many
+little pearls, and the clergyman says it is worth a great deal of money,
+and that no sham lady could have such a handsome ring, and, besides all
+that, he keeps the clothes that you and your mother wore, that in case
+you should ever meet with your relations all these things may prove you
+are the same child that was lost, and not an impostor.'
+
+
+Chapter II
+
+Young as I was this relation of my nurse made me weep very much; it
+brought to my memory things which I had long thought must have been
+dreams. I well remembered my father's picture; I had seen my mother weep
+over it, press it to her lips, and address it by the name of her dear
+Frederick. I earnestly entreated the nurse to take me to the
+clergyman's, that I might once more have the pleasure of seeing it. She
+told me to have patience till Sunday, and that when service was over she
+would speak to him about it. I submitted to this delay without a murmur,
+and the following Sunday, when service was over, as he was walking
+through the churchyard, nurse went up to him and told him my request.
+
+'Ah,' said he, looking at the little troop of children that followed the
+nurse, and immediately fixing his eyes upon me, 'I suppose this is the
+little lady. What is your name, my dear?'
+
+'Lady Anne, sir,' replied I, curtseying very low. I must here observe
+that I did not know that lady was a title, but thought it was as much a
+part of my name as Anne.
+
+'What, still Lady Anne?' said he. 'You are determined not to lose your
+title. Well, my little lady, come home with me and I will show you your
+father's picture.'
+
+We then followed the clergyman to his house. The children were told to
+stay in the garden, with strict orders not to touch anything, and nurse
+and I were permitted the honour of entering the study. Mr. Sanders then,
+opening the drawer of a cabinet, took out the miniature portrait of a
+young and handsome gentleman dressed in regimentals. I no sooner beheld
+it than a thousand recollections seemed to rush upon my mind. I caught
+it from his hand, pressed it to my lips, and bursting into a flood of
+tears, exclaimed:
+
+'It is my father's picture. My own, my dear father. Oh, if I could but
+see him! Where is he gone to? Do you know where he is gone to?'
+
+'Be calm, my dear child,' said the good man, taking me in his arms. 'We
+do not know where your father is, or we would write to him. If you could
+tell us his name, we might find him out. Do you not remember any name
+they used to call your father?'
+
+'They used to call father my lord; and mother my lady, and they called
+me Lady Anne,' said I.
+
+'Ah! that is the old story, we know it already,' replied the clergyman
+with a sigh; 'but who, my dear, was the earl? Can you not recollect his
+name? Try if you cannot remember.'
+
+'I do not know his name,' replied I, 'but he came one day and was very
+angry, and made mother cry, and then she fell on the floor and I
+screamed, and then the Earl was more angry and stamped, and I screamed
+with all my might, and the Earl rang the bell and went away in a great
+passion, and then Sally--yes, it was Sally--came to mother.'
+
+'Where was your father, then, my dear?'
+
+'I do not know, father was gone, and I have never seen him since.'
+
+The good clergyman asked me many more questions, to try if he could
+discover who my friends were; but, as I unfortunately could not tell
+either my own name, or that of any of the great people who had visited
+us, his enquiries were fruitless, and he closed the conversation by
+observing, 'that it was a great pity I had not been taught my own name
+and address.'
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[_Lady Anne was then taken to an orphan home, where she was treated very
+harshly by Mrs. Dawson, the matron. Great fun was made of her grand
+name._]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At last a man and his wife, who had come down from London on a visit to
+a relation of theirs in the town, having heard of me, came to the school
+to make their inquiries. I was accordingly ordered to stand up, that
+they might satisfy their curiosity with gazing at me, while Mrs. Dawson
+began to boast of all the good qualities I possessed, and some to which
+I had no claim.
+
+'She is a very delicate looking child,' said the woman from London; 'she
+looks more like a gentleman's daughter than a parish girl.'
+
+'She is straight, and tall of her age, ma'am,' replied Mrs. Dawson, 'and
+that gives her a genteelish look; but I assure you she is as strong as a
+little horse. She will wash and scour with any girl of her age; and, as
+for her needle, there is not a girl in the school can work as well. Show
+your work, Lady Anne.'
+
+'Lady Anne!' repeated the Londoner, as she took my work into her hand,
+'that is a strange name. What do you call her so for?'
+
+Mrs. Dawson ran over my story to her as briefly as she could. The two
+Londoners found it very diverting, and laughed heartily, while the tears
+stood in my eyes as I thought of my dear parents, one in the grave, and
+the other I might never see again.
+
+'Well, wife,' said the man, when he had laughed till he was weary,
+'suppose we take this young lady on trial for a month; the good woman
+speaks of her very well; we can but see what she can do, and, if we find
+her strong enough for our place, it will be a rare piece of luck for us
+to have an earl's daughter for our servant. What say you, aye or nay?'
+
+'I have no objection to try her,' replied the wife. 'She sews very well,
+and that is the greatest object with us.'
+
+'Very well, then,' returned the husband. 'Let us away to the overseers,
+and settle with them about taking her upon trial, for I will not have
+her as an apprentice till we know what she can do.'
+
+They then went away, and, in about two hours, the one that I called the
+good-natured overseer came to tell Mrs. Dawson to have me in readiness
+to go to London on the morning after the morrow with my new master and
+mistress.
+
+'And I hope, child,' said he, addressing me, 'that you will do all you
+can to please them, for I give you my word for it, that if you are sent
+back to us we shall send you to the Bridewell, where you will be kept to
+hard labour, and be whipped every day; so now you know what you have to
+trust to.'
+
+I assured him very sincerely that I would do to the utmost of my power
+to please my master and mistress; and then I very humbly entreated his
+permission to allow me to go the next day to pay a farewell visit to Mr.
+Sanders and my nurse, Jenkins.
+
+'Yes, child, you shall go. And mind, Dawson, that you let her go early,
+that she may find Mr. Sanders at home, for he made me promise that we
+would not send her away without first letting her call upon him.
+Good-bye, child, there is a penny for you to spend, and if you are a
+good girl you shall have a shilling for yourself when you are bound
+apprentice.'
+
+I curtsied, thanked him, and renewed my promises of good behaviour. He
+then went away, and Mrs. Dawson told me to sit down to my work, for that
+too much time had been lost in talking.
+
+
+Chapter III
+
+The next morning I arose before it was well light. It was a cold morning
+in the month of February, and the snow was lying upon the ground; but my
+heart felt so light at the thought of escaping from the ill-temper of
+Mrs. Dawson, and the hope of being more comfortable, that everything
+appeared cheerful and pleasant. I made what haste I could to get my
+morning work done, and, having breakfasted, set off about nine o'clock
+on my little journey. The distance from the workhouse to Mr. Sanders's
+was rather more than two miles; but the sun was now shining, and the
+road hard and dry, and I tripped along so lightly that I was therein a
+little more than half an hour.
+
+'Good-morning to you, my dear,' said the kind gentleman when he saw me;
+'you seem in excellent spirits. Have you got a place?'
+
+'Yes, sir,' I replied. 'I am to go to London to-morrow, and then, I
+hope, I shall find my father soon.'
+
+'My poor child, I wish you may,' answered he; 'but do not raise your
+expectations too high, for fear you should be disappointed. What sort of
+people are you to be with, and what is it you are to do?'
+
+I then related all that had passed the preceding day between Mrs. Dawson
+and the strangers.
+
+'Well,' said Mr. Sanders, 'I will call this evening upon the overseers,
+and hear what they say of these people. I hope they are respectable, and
+will be kind to you; and, my dear child, pray remember my advice, be
+honest and obliging; do not let any temptation lead you to take what is
+not your own; and never give a saucy answer, even though you should be
+found fault with unjustly. Will you think of my advice, and act by it?'
+
+'I will, indeed I will,' replied I. 'And now, sir, if you please, let me
+once more look at my father's picture, for, you know, when I am in
+London, I cannot come to you then to look at it.'
+
+Mr. Sanders, taking it from the drawer, gave it into my hand. I gazed at
+it, pressed it to my lips, and wept over it; and, at last, when Mr.
+Sanders desired me to give it him back, I begged of him to let me take
+it with me to London.
+
+'If you take it to London,' said he, 'you may, perhaps, lose it, or it
+may be taken from you. The picture is valuable on account of the gold
+and pearls about it, and may tempt bad people to steal it. You had much
+better leave it with me.'
+
+'I will hide it so securely,' replied I, 'that nobody shall ever see it,
+or know that I have it.'
+
+'How can you hide it, my dear?'
+
+'I will hide it in my bosom; but I am going to Nurse Jenkins, and she
+will fasten it inside my stays, so that it cannot be seen, and people
+will not think that I have a picture. Do, pray, sir, let me have it.'
+
+'Well,' said Mr. Sanders, after a little pause, in which he seemed to
+consider whether it would be safe to grant my request or not; 'I will
+entrust it to your care, but be sure never to let it be seen, nor to
+tell anyone that you have such a picture in your possession.'
+
+Most fervently I promised to take every possible care of this beloved
+portrait, and was about to take my leave when Mr. Sanders said:
+
+'Stay, my dear, here is sixpence for you.'
+
+'No, thank you, sir,' said I. 'I have the sixpence you gave me when I
+left my nurse.'
+
+'What! have you not spent that yet?'
+
+'No, sir.'
+
+'And why not, pray?'
+
+'Because you gave it to me, sir, I shall never spend it.'
+
+'Then you are keeping it for my sake, I suppose. Well, do so, my dear,
+but take this sixpence, and mind you spend it.'
+
+I took it with a curtsey, and tried to say 'Good-bye,' but the words
+seemed to choke me, and I burst into tears. Mr. Sanders seemed much
+affected, and putting his handkerchief to his eyes, walked about the
+room for some minutes without speaking; then, again approaching me, he
+kissed my forehead.
+
+'Farewell, my dear child,' said he. 'I wish it was in my power to keep
+you, but I have a large family, and Mrs. Sanders is not willing that I
+should take you in addition, so farewell, we must part; be a good girl,
+and I hope we shall meet again in happier circumstances.'
+
+He then again kissed me, bestowed his benediction upon me, and led me to
+the gate. I sobbed out my farewell, and, with the tears streaming down
+my face, took my way to the humble dwelling of my nurse. I had nearly
+two miles to walk before I reached her cottage. At first I went along
+with a slow and deliberate step, thinking upon my parting with Mr.
+Sanders, and comparing my lot with that of children who had fathers and
+mothers, and weeping at my own destitute situation; for, even among the
+children who were in the workhouse, there was not one excepting myself
+who had not relations who came occasionally to see them, and to whom
+they looked up for some sort of protection, while I was a poor little
+outcast in society, not knowing one creature in the whole world to whom
+I could say I was related. Mr. Sanders and my nurse were the only
+persons who seemed to care anything about me; and even these, my only
+friends, I must leave, and go and live among strangers. These thoughts
+made me very melancholy, and, though this second part of my journey was
+the shortest, yet I was nearly an hour in walking it. At last I saw the
+cottage, and, quickening my pace, I arrived there tired and out of
+spirits.
+
+The good woman received me kindly, and placing me near the fire, gave me
+a basin of broth, with plenty of bread in it. After I had taken this
+refreshment, which I greatly needed, she began asking me a variety of
+questions, and by degrees I gave her the history of all that had
+happened to me from the time I had left her house, for since that time I
+had never had an opportunity of saying more to her than a few words when
+we happened to meet at the church.
+
+'Poor child,' said she, when I concluded, 'I was afraid you would not be
+comfortable, for Mrs. Dawson is a woman of a very bad temper; but she
+does make the girls good servants, that nobody can deny, and that, I
+suppose, is the reason she keeps her place; however, your time is over
+with her now, so never mind what is past, but look forward to what is
+to come. What sort of people are you going to live with?'
+
+'I hardly know,' replied I; 'but their name is Smith, and they live in a
+place called the Borough.'
+
+'Do you know what their trade is?'
+
+'They sell umbrellas and shoes, and I am to learn to make the umbrellas,
+and that is all I know about them.'
+
+'Well, my dear, I hope that you will be able to do for them, and that
+they will be kind to you, and you must trust to Providence for the
+discovery of your friends.'
+
+I then drew my father's picture from my bosom, and asked her if she
+would fasten it into my stays in such a way that I could wear it without
+its being seen.
+
+'Yes, my dear,' said she, 'that I will, and you must mind how I do it,
+that, when you have a new pair of stays, you may be able to fasten it
+into them in the same manner.'
+
+My stays were then taken off, and the portrait fastened inside of them;
+a piece of flannel was then sewed over it, which, being left loose at
+one corner, I could, when I had them off, raise it up, and take a view
+of the dear likeness. The first sixpence that Mr. Sanders gave me I had
+fastened in also, for I was determined never to part with it. This being
+done I produced the sixpence he had given me that morning, and the penny
+given me by the overseer, and begged the nurse to accept of them.
+
+'No, my dear,' said she, 'I will not take them from you; keep them
+yourself, you do not know what you may want when you are in London. You
+will not then have anybody to give you a halfpenny should you need it.'
+
+'I will not keep it,' replied I. 'Mr. Sanders told me to spend it, and
+if you will not take it I shall leave it upon the table.'
+
+'Well,' said she, 'if it must be spent, I will go and lay it out in tea
+and sugar, and give you all a treat, for I suppose you have not tasted
+any tea since you have been with Mrs. Dawson.'
+
+'No,' said I, 'not a single drop. How glad I am that you have thought of
+letting us have tea.'
+
+My young readers who, perhaps, have tea every day, cannot imagine what a
+luxury a little of it is to a poor workhouse child, who never tastes it
+but when she is allowed to go out and see her friends. Children in
+workhouses have bread and cheese and small-beer about seven o'clock,
+which serves them for tea and supper, and I, as I had no friends to go
+and see, had not once tasted tea since I left my nurse's, who was a
+good-natured woman, and always gave us tea on Sunday evenings--weak,
+indeed, but we thought it delicious; on other evenings we had
+milk-and-water and bread-and-butter.
+
+My nurse soon came back with her purchase. The large kettle was set on
+the fire, the great brown loaf was brought out, and nurse began cutting
+slices of bread-and-butter for us.
+
+The children were so delighted at the thoughts of the treat they were to
+have that they began dancing about the floor, and I, forgetting my late
+sorrow, joined in their sports. When the repast was quite ready we took
+our places, some at the table, and some on the benches, as we could find
+room. Nurse gave each of us a little basin of tea and a good slice of
+bread-and-butter, and I think I may say that the whole body of aldermen
+dining at the Lord Mayor's feast never ate their meal with half the zest
+that we felt in sipping our homely tea, and eating our brown bread.
+
+Soon after the tea was over nurse proposed my returning home, as the
+days were short, and as she did not wish me to be out after it was dark.
+I felt a pang at the idea of so soon parting with my good nurse, but
+without replying I immediately put on my bonnet and cloak. Nurse and the
+children accompanied me a full mile on my way home, and then we parted
+with tears on both sides.
+
+
+Chapter IV
+
+It was a very fine morning, the sun shone brightly, the fields, hedges,
+and trees were covered with snow, which, as the air was very cold, did
+not melt, but sparkled and glittered most beautifully. I gazed with much
+pleasure on the scenery as we passed along, and should have been
+cheerful, but I was with strangers, who took very little notice of me,
+scarcely speaking to me the whole day, so that I could not help feeling
+sorrowful, and sometimes even wished myself back again with Mrs. Dawson.
+
+About seven o'clock in the evening we stopped at a small shop in one of
+the cross streets in the Borough. There I was told that we were at home.
+We entered, and I gave a curious and somewhat fearful glance round the
+place. The shop was set out partly with umbrellas and partly with shoes,
+but everything seemed dirty and in confusion. Shoe-lasts,
+umbrella-sticks, and a large quantity of whalebone, were lying in heaps
+about the floor, while in one corner stood a large pan of dirty water
+in which they soaked the leather, and which, not being often changed,
+sent forth a most unpleasant smell; the floor did not appear as if it
+was swept once in a month. We entered the parlour, which was in the same
+state of dirt and confusion as the shop. Three dirty children, whose
+ages I was afterwards told were thirteen, eleven, and nine, came to meet
+their parents. Their frocks were dirty and ragged, their stockings with
+holes in them, their shoes slipped down at the heel, while they wore
+strings of coloured beads round their necks, that did not seem as if
+they were washed oftener than once a month. They were clamouring round
+their parents to know what they had brought them from the country, and
+who I was.
+
+Their father gave them a basket with cakes and fruit in it, and told
+them to take that, and ask him no questions till he was at leisure to
+answer them. The master's sister, who had taken charge of the house
+during his absence, was dressed much in the same style as the children,
+her stockings being dirty and with holes in them, her gown unripped in
+several places at the seams, and on her head a dirty cap, with a fine
+lace border and ornamented with pink ribbon. The room and furniture were
+in the same untidy condition, and as I looked around me I could not but
+fear that my situation in this house would be very uncomfortable.
+
+We were all of us both tired and cold. The sister made tea, of which
+Mrs. Smith gave me a good basinful, and a thick slice of
+bread-and-butter. They then began talking among themselves, and me and
+my little history was the subject of their conversation. They were all
+much amused at my being called Lady Anne. Mrs. Smith declared that she
+would either call me Anne or Nancy, and Mr. Smith insisted that I
+should have my full title.
+
+'I tell you what, husband,' said she, 'you may call her what you please,
+but I shall call her Nanny.'
+
+'And I tell you what, wife,' returned he, 'I shall call her Lady Anne,
+and so shall the children, or I'll strap them well, and you ought to
+call her so. Who knows but that girl may be the means of making our
+fortune? If she really is an earl's daughter, her father may come into
+our shop some day to look at an umbrella or a pair of shoes, and when he
+hears us call her Lady Anne he will, of course, inquire the reason; then
+we shall tell him her history, he'll make us a present--a handsome one,
+too--not less than a thousand pounds, I should think, or, if it is not a
+handsome one, I'll send him in a swinging bill for her keep, so that I
+will have it one way or another.'
+
+'Why, you know that we must keep her,' replied his wife; 'she is our
+servant, and will soon be our 'prentice, if she can do our work.'
+
+'You know nothing about it,' returned her husband. 'If she is bound to
+us, we shall be bound to keep her; but if she is not, whenever we find
+her father we can send him in a good bill for her keep, and make him pay
+it too, that is my opinion of the matter.'
+
+'And so,' answered his wife, 'for the sake of this fine dream you mean
+to lose the 'prentice fees, do you?'
+
+'Aye, do I,' replied he, 'and you'll thank me for it too, when his
+earlship gives me the thousand pounds.'
+
+'And in the meantime,' asked his wife, 'what is to be done with her
+ladyship? Is she to be kept for looking at?'
+
+'You may look at her as much as you please,' answered her husband, 'but,
+as she will eat, so she must work or starve, and now give me a glass of
+gin and water, for tea is not worth drinking, and I have talked till my
+throat is dry.'
+
+His wile brought out and mixed the liquor, repeating to herself: 'And so
+for this fine castle in the air we are to lose the 'prentice fees.'
+
+Mr. Smith now had a pipe, and sat smoking and drinking, his wife and
+sister talked on indifferent subjects, and the children amused
+themselves by repeatedly coming to me, and saying, 'How do you do, Lady
+Anne? I hope you are very well,' and the like idle expressions. Their
+father laughed, and said they had learned their lesson already, but
+their mother, who was vexed at losing the apprentice fees, after some
+little time told them to be quiet, or she would send them to bed. This
+command released me from their silly questions; they got different
+playthings, and seated themselves on the floor near the fire, while I
+sat on a stool on a distant part of the room, but glad at any rate to be
+free from their questions.
+
+At length nine o'clock came. Mrs. Smith gave each of the children a
+slice of bread-and-butter, and I was in hopes she would have given me
+one too, but I was mistaken. After the children had taken their supper
+she said to me:
+
+'Now, Anne, you will go upstairs with us, and I will show you where you
+are to sleep. You must be up betimes in the morning, and let us see what
+you can do for your living; for, I assure you, we shall not keep you in
+idleness, though you are a lady.'
+
+Without reply, I followed them upstairs into a large back attic, which
+was in the same comfortless state as the shop and parlour. There was
+only one bed in the room, and it had neither curtains or posts: it had
+not been made that day at the least. Mrs. Smith merely laid it smooth,
+while the children took off their clothes, which they threw in heaps
+upon the floor, and then scrambled into bed, without either nightgown or
+night-cap. Mrs. Smith then looked round the room, and said:
+
+'I must now contrive a bed for you, child.'
+
+I looked round, too, but did not see anything that seemed to me likely
+to answer such a purpose. There were, indeed, several heaps of dirty old
+clothes, but they did not appear to me fit for anything but to burn, or
+to send away among the ashes. Mrs. Smith, however, approached one of
+them, and said:
+
+'Here, child, you may pick out plenty of clothes, and spread them upon
+the floor, and I will give you an old blanket to cover you: then, I
+think, you will do very well.'
+
+I went to the heap, and my heart heaved with sickness and disgust as I
+lifted up dirty old coats, trousers, waistcoats, and gowns. It seemed as
+if all the old clothes of the family for the last ten years had been
+collected into this room; and out of this mass of litter I was to make
+my bed. This was, indeed, heart-breaking to me, for all my life I had
+been accustomed to cleanliness, even when in the workhouse; for there,
+though we lived hard and slept hard, yet everything was clean.
+
+'What is the girl thinking about?' said Mrs. Smith angrily. 'Pick out a
+few things and make your bed. I cannot stand waiting upon you for half
+an hour.'
+
+I did not dare to answer, but picked out a few of the things that looked
+the least dirty, and spread them upon the floor. Mrs. Smith then went
+downstairs, and in a few minutes brought me up an old blanket, which she
+threw upon the floor, saying:
+
+'I cannot stay any longer; it is moonlight, and you must make your bed,
+and go to it as you can.'
+
+She then went away, and I was no sooner alone than, seating myself upon
+the floor, I wept most bitterly.
+
+'How unhappy I am!' thought I. 'Every change I make is for the worse.
+When I left my nurse I was worse off at the workhouse; and now I have
+left the workhouse I am worse off here; and my father--I shall never see
+him more, for he will never find me in such a dirty place as this.'
+
+Again I wept, but, being overpowered with sleep, I wrapped the blanket
+round me, and, laying myself upon the old clothes I had spread upon the
+floor, I was soon in a sound sleep.
+
+I was awakened the next morning at an early hour by Mr. Smith knocking
+at the room door, and telling me to make haste down and light the fire.
+This I did, and swept up the parlour, which I made look as tidy as I
+could. After breakfast, of which I had but a very scanty allowance, I
+was ordered into the shop, and Mr. Smith sat down, and began teaching me
+how to make the covers for umbrellas. The shop-door was open, and my
+hands were so cold that I could scarcely hold the needle; but I did as
+well as I was able, and worked till I was called to my dinner, which was
+not till the rest of the family had dined; then all the bits of fat and
+scraps that they did not like were scraped together into a plate for me,
+which, with a very small piece of meat in addition, and a few potatoes,
+was my dinner. Complaint was useless. I had no choice but to eat it or
+to go without. I then returned to my work till the family had taken
+their tea, when a small basinful was given to me, and one slice of
+bread-and-butter--not a slice all round the loaf, but half round it.
+After tea, Mr. Smith went out, and his wife and sister, with two other
+women that came in, spent the evening at cards. At nine o'clock the
+children had their supper and went to bed. I was in hopes that I should
+be allowed to go, too, nine o'clock being the hour when we had been sent
+to bed at the workhouse. I accordingly folded up my work and went into
+the parlour.
+
+'Well, what do you want?' said Mrs. Smith.
+
+'If you please, ma'am, may I have my supper and go to bed?'
+
+'Supper and go to bed!' exclaimed she. 'Pretty talk for a workhouse
+girl! No, miss, you will have no supper. Three meals a day are enough
+for you, I should think; and as for bed, you will not go till your
+master comes home, and that will not be till twelve o'clock. So now, my
+lady, go and sit down to your work again.'
+
+I obeyed in silence, for, indeed, having no choice, I could not do
+otherwise; but, being overpowered with sleep, I soon nodded over my
+work. This Mrs. Smith observed, for, the upper half of the partition
+between the shop and parlour being of glass, she could see all that
+passed, and, seeing me nod, she came out, and shook and beat me till I
+was thoroughly awake. At ten o'clock the shop was shut up by Mrs. Smith
+and her sister, Mrs. Smith telling me that would be my work as soon as I
+was tall enough to put up the shutters. I still kept to my sewing,
+though two or three times I fell asleep over it, from which I was as
+roughly awakened as at the first. At length, to my great relief, twelve
+o'clock struck, the two visitors departed, and soon after Mr. Smith
+knocked at the door. As soon as he came in his wife began scolding him
+for spending his time and money at a public-house, and said that he
+would bring them all to the workhouse. He retorted by saying that she
+lost more money at cards than he spent at the public-house. They then
+quarrelled violently. Blows were given on both sides, when Mr. Smith,
+happening to see me, told me to be gone to bed, or he would knock me
+down. I did not require to be told twice, but, hastening from the room,
+groped my way upstairs (for I was not allowed any candle), where,
+rejoiced at having escaped from the confusion below, I wrapped the
+blanket round me, and, laying myself upon the heap of rubbish, soon fell
+asleep.
+
+The two succeeding days passed nearly as the one I have described. Then
+came Sunday, which, instead of being a day of rest, of worship of the
+great Giver of all good, and a day of innocent recreation, was, in this
+misguided family, a day of complete slavery, for I found that it was the
+only one in the whole week that was devoted to domestic business. The
+whole house was to be cleaned. The dishes, plates, and saucepans, which
+had been used over and over again without washing during the week, were
+now all to be washed. The knives were to be cleaned, the boots and shoes
+to be brushed and blacked, and all this it was expected I should do. I
+did the best I could, and kept on working from six o'clock in the
+morning till nine o'clock at night, without sitting down the whole time,
+except the few minutes when I took my three scanty meals; but now,
+overpowered with fatigue, I fainted away upon the floor.
+
+I believe I continued insensible for rather a long time, for, when I
+began to recover my hearing, I heard Mrs. Smith and the sister talking
+together very earnestly, and as if they were fearful of getting into
+trouble on my account. They were sprinkling me with water, and holding
+hartshorn for me to smell, at the same time conversing in the following
+manner:
+
+'I wish we had not taken this girl,' said Mrs. Smith. 'She has not
+strength to do our work. We cannot afford to keep her for nothing; and
+yet, if she dies, people will say that we killed her. How white she
+looks! I am afraid that she really is dead.'
+
+'Pour a little gin-and-water down her throat,' said the sister. 'If she
+has life in her, that will bring her to; and, to tell you my opinion of
+the matter, I think you half starve her, and overwork her besides. But
+get the gin, or she will be dead to all intents and purposes.'
+
+Mrs. Smith, I suppose (for, though I could hear, I was still unable to
+open my eyes), mixed the liquor, and poured a little of it into my
+mouth. It acted like a cordial upon me, for I was soon able to open my
+eyes, and I found myself supported in the arms of the sister, and Mrs.
+Smith holding the liquor.
+
+'What is the matter with you, child?' said she. 'Are you subject to
+fits?'
+
+Unable to speak, I burst into tears.
+
+'Very well,' said she; 'you are better now. There, empty the cup, and I
+will give you some bread and cheese, and then you shall go to bed.'
+
+I did as I was desired, and, after I had eaten the bread and cheese, I
+staggered, partly from weakness and partly from the effects of the
+liquor I had taken, up into my room, where sleep soon made me forget all
+my sorrows.
+
+The weary week circled round, and the dreaded Sunday again appeared; but
+this day Mrs. Smith obliged the children to help a little in the work.
+What they did was but little, but to me every little was of consequence.
+She also allowed rather more victuals; and at eight o'clock in the
+evening she gave me a good slice of bread and cheese and a teacupful of
+porter, which strengthened me so much that I did all my work, and at ten
+o'clock was allowed to go to bed--my miserable bed, which at first I had
+beheld with so much disgust, was now the only place where I found any
+comfort, for there I was free from scolding and anger. There I slept
+soundly, there I generally forgot all my sorrow, and sometimes even
+dreamed that I had found my father.
+
+
+Chapter V
+
+The return of spring in some measure alleviated my sufferings, for, as
+the weather grew warmer, my hands and feet got better; but, to
+counterbalance this comfort, my quantity of work was increased; and, as
+the days lengthened, I was obliged to rise earlier, for during the three
+months in the middle of summer I rose every morning at four o'clock.
+Being allowed so short a time for rest occasioned me to be continually
+sleepy, so that I could not help sometimes falling asleep over my work,
+even during the day, and this was sure of being the means of my having a
+severe beating from either Mr. Smith or his wife. My health daily
+declined, and I was pleased that it did so, for I was in hopes that I
+should soon die, and be released from all my troubles. Thus passed away
+the summer and autumn. Winter approached. It was now the latter end of
+November, and the weather had set in extremely cold. A heavy fall of
+snow, with a sharp frost, was succeeded by a slight thaw, which made the
+streets worse to walk in than either a severe frost or completely wet,
+when one morning Mrs. Smith told me to take an apple-pie to the baker's.
+I took the pie and went as carefully as I could, that I might not fall,
+or get my feet wet, for my shoes were now so worn out that they did not
+keep my feet from the ground; but in crossing the main street in the
+borough, as I was trying to step over the gutter, which was choked up
+with snow and loose pieces of ice, my foot slipped, and down I fell. The
+pie went into the gutter, where the dish was smashed to pieces, and the
+paste, sugar, and apples mingled with the dirty water. At first I could
+not see, owing to the quantity of muddy water that had splashed up into
+my face; but, having cleared my eyes, I saw an old match-woman cramming
+the pie-crust into her basket, a crowd of ragged children were fishing
+the apples out of the gutter, and a number of men and women, who ought
+to have known better, were laughing at me.
+
+'Pray, ma'am,' said I to the match-woman, 'give me back the dough that I
+may take it home.'
+
+'La, child!' said she, 'what good can a bit of dirty pie-crust do you? I
+am sure your mistress would not use it, and when I have washed off the
+mud it will make me a little dumpling.'
+
+'Pray give it me back,' said I. 'Oh dear! what shall I do? I shall be so
+beat!'
+
+'Beat!' repeated a man, who at that moment came up and lifted me over
+the gutter on to the pavement, 'you will be killed. If I was in your
+place, I would run away. Depend upon it, if you go back, Mother Smith
+would beat you to death.'
+
+This man lived in our street, and knew the Smiths very well. A woman, on
+hearing their name mentioned, looked at me and said: 'Is this Smith's
+girl? Why, they will kill her and eat her for their dinner as she has
+lost them their pie.'
+
+'They would not gain much by that,' said a man, 'for the girl has not a
+pound of flesh upon her bones.'
+
+'Run, I tell you,' said the man who had first spoken to me. 'It is
+impossible for you to be worse off than you are with them; and if they
+catch you, they will be the death of you.'
+
+'Run, girl, run,' was shouted on all sides, 'run, run for your life!'
+called out the boys, who by this time had pretty well picked up all the
+apples. I still stood weeping, not knowing what to do, when a woman
+exclaimed:
+
+'As I am alive, here comes Mother Smith with a great whalebone; now,
+girl, you'll be cut to pieces.'
+
+A general shout of 'Run! run!' from men, women, and children almost
+deafened me. Without stopping to see if Mrs. Smith was really coming, I
+did run as fast as my feet would carry me, till, strength and breath
+failing, I was obliged to slacken my pace. I had by this time run nearly
+the whole length of the Borough, and was almost at London Bridge. I had
+never before seen the Thames, and thought it was the sea. The noise of
+the water-works frightened me, and I hesitated about venturing on the
+bridge; but, seeing others go over, I, with some fear, followed them,
+and thought that I had escaped a great danger when I reached the
+opposite end in safety. But this imaginary fear was but a short
+interruption to my more just one of Mrs. Smith, and I now ventured to
+look back to see if I was pursued. Terror, I suppose, deceived me, for I
+thought I saw her coming with a stick in her hand. I again set off
+running, and, following the stream of the people, was soon in Cheapside.
+My feet were now sore, and cut in several places by the ice; but I still
+hurried on as well as I was able, till I entered St. Paul's Churchyard.
+There, notwithstanding my fear, I stood still to gaze on the immense and
+beautiful building, which I now for the first time beheld, and for some
+minutes I was lost in a dream of astonishment. My dream was soon
+interrupted by the crowds of people who were hurrying on in different
+directions, and who pushed me about without any ceremony, so that I was
+soon obliged to collect my scattered ideas and consider what I was now
+to do. I had left Mr. Smith's, but I had no where else to go to, not a
+friend to receive me, nor a house to shelter me for a single night. As I
+thought of my miserable situation, the tears chased each other down my
+face. Of the great numbers who passed me, no doubt some observed them;
+but they were all too much engaged with their own concerns to make any
+inquiries into the sorrows of a poor little outcast like myself, and I
+passed on unheeded. Going on with the course of the people, I went
+through St. Paul's Churchyard, down Ludgate Hill, along Fleet Street,
+and entered the Strand. By this time I had made the determination of
+endeavouring to find my way back to E----; of going to Mr. Sanders's,
+and telling him how ill I had been treated by the Smiths; for I thought
+that his influence with the overseers would prevent their punishing me,
+as they had threatened, if I did not stay in my place. I therefore now
+began to look down all the streets as I passed them to see if any of
+them led to the country; but on the right hand side they all led to
+other streets. I began to think I should never come to the end of them.
+Being at length arrived opposite to Catharine Street, I looked up to it,
+and saw that it led to a wide space, where there was a great quantity of
+green that looked like small trees. 'Well,' thought I, 'this must be the
+way into the country, and the trees are beginning to grow here, but how
+little they are!'
+
+[Illustration: _The flight over London Bridge.--Page 349._]
+
+I immediately crossed the Strand, went up Catharine Street, and entered
+Covent Garden. Disappointment damped my hopes when I found that this
+great space was surrounded by houses; but there was something so
+pleasing in the appearance of the evergreens that were exposed for sale,
+and the shops looked so pretty, being set out with holly and laurel,
+that I crossed into the market, and walked slowly along, examining the
+countenances of the shopkeepers, to see if there was one that looked
+sufficiently good-natured for me to dare to speak to her. At last I
+asked a woman who kept a fruit and flower shop if she would be so good
+as to direct me the way to E----.
+
+'To E----, child? Why, you are near forty miles off. What do you want
+there?'
+
+'I want to go to Mr. Sanders's,' replied I, 'and to tell him how ill Mr.
+Smith used me, and perhaps he would get me another place, and not let
+the overseers punish me.'
+
+'I don't know what you are talking about, child,' said the woman. 'I
+know nothing of Mr. Sanders nor Mr. Smith. Who are they?'
+
+I looked in surprise at the woman, for I thought it impossible but
+everybody must know Mr. Sanders. I, however, replied that he was the
+clergyman at E----.
+
+'Well,' said she, 'and who are you? A parish 'prentice, I should
+suppose, by your gown.'
+
+'And run away from your master,' said a man who had drawn near,
+attracted by curiosity.
+
+'Come, tell the truth,' said the woman, 'what made you run away? For
+that, I suppose, is the case.'
+
+I related the accident of the pie. The man and several others, who had
+come near to listen, laughed heartily.
+
+'And so,' said he, 'the old woman picked up the pie-crust, did she? She
+was no bad judge. The boys had the apples, the gutter had the sugar,
+you had the mud; and, if you had gone home, I suppose you would have had
+the cane. Ha! ha! ha!'
+
+All the people laughed at this, and I stood crying.
+
+'Don't cry,' said the fruiteress, 'you shall not go back to Smith's
+again. I will see if I cannot get you another place, and a pair of
+stockings and shoes too, for you are barefoot.'
+
+'So she is,' said the man who had laughed so heartily; 'she seems to
+belong to the ragged regiment, to be sure. But how comes it, child, that
+your father and mother did not look after you a little?'
+
+At the mention of these dear names, my tears flowed afresh, and I sobbed
+out that I had no father or mother. The good-natured fruiteress
+absolutely wept; several women, who had come round us, shed tears; and
+the men said it was a great deal too bad that poor orphans should be
+treated so barbarously.
+
+'Well,' said the man who had laughed so much, 'pitying will do her but
+little good without something more substantial, so there's twopence for
+you, child, towards a pair of shoes; and if all these good people will
+give you as much you will soon be shod.'
+
+They did so far follow his example as to give me some a penny and some a
+halfpenny, so that in a short time I had one shilling and sevenpence
+halfpenny. They then went away, the fruiteress assuring them that I
+should have shoes and stockings, and that she had no doubt but that she
+could get me a place at a gardener's in the country where I might be
+comfortable. When the people were all gone, she told me to come into the
+shop and warm myself; but when she looked at my face, scratched with the
+ice and smeared with mud, she said:
+
+'I think a good washing will be the best thing for you, for you cannot
+be made comfortable till you are clean.'
+
+She then gave me soap, water, a towel, and I was not a little glad of
+having the means of washing myself well. She then looked at my feet,
+which were much cut with the ice, and still bleeding.
+
+'Poor child,' said she, 'I think you have suffered enough for breaking a
+pie-dish. However, its done, and you shall soak your feet well with warm
+water; and when my little girls come with my dinner I will see if I
+cannot find you a pair of shoes.'
+
+I accordingly washed my feet well, which was a comfort I had not
+experienced for many months. The good woman threw away my old stockings
+and shoes, and, doubling a piece of carpet under my feet, told me to sit
+by the fire till her children brought the dinner.
+
+Thus refreshed, and seated on a low stool near the fire, I leaned my
+head against the wall, and was soon in a sound sleep. From this I was
+awakened in a little more than half an hour by a murmuring of voices. My
+first idea was that Mrs. Smith had discovered my retreat, and I started
+up in terror, exclaiming:
+
+'Oh, save me from her, for she will kill me!'
+
+'Do not frighten yourself, my dear,' said the fruiteress, 'it is only my
+little girls with the dinner. Come and sit to the table, I dare say you
+are hungry.'
+
+That I really was, but I was so dirty and ragged that I felt ashamed of
+sitting at the table with people who had everything clean and whole upon
+them. I therefore stood back, and, telling my reasons, asked her to let
+me have my dinner upon the stool.
+
+'Take off that ragged apron,' said she, 'and, Sally, my dear, let the
+little girl have yours, and then come and sit down to dinner with us,
+child.'
+
+Sally, a good-natured girl, seemingly about fourteen years old, took off
+her clean coloured apron, which she gave to me, and then, observing my
+naked feet, exclaimed:
+
+'Dear mother, she has no shoes! Shall I take off mine, and let her have
+them?'
+
+'After dinner,' replied her mother, 'you must see if you have not a
+tolerable pair of shoes and stockings that you can give her; but now let
+us sit down, and be thankful that we have a good home to shelter us, and
+victuals to eat, and are not, like this poor child, without either.'
+
+The fruiteress (whose name I found was Williams) then said grace, and we
+all sat down to a comfortable dinner of boiled mutton, turnips, and
+potatoes, to which I was helped very liberally. During the repast the
+children naturally inquired who I was, and why I was there. The mother
+merely answered them as to how I had come; but, when the dinner was
+over, she asked me many questions, such as my name, and what I could
+remember of my parents, etc., and I told them all I could remember, from
+the time of my mother's death to the misfortunes of the present morning,
+taking care, at the same time, not to mention that I had my father's
+portrait in my possession. The good woman shed tears several times, and
+the children seemed much affected.
+
+'Ah, my dears,' said she to them, 'it is well for you that you have a
+mother to take care of you, or you would not be better off than this
+poor child is. I am sure, when your dear father died, I thought we must
+have all gone to the workhouse; but yet I kept striving and striving,
+and Providence has sent us a living. But now you had better take the
+plates and things home, and see if you have not some of your clothes
+that you can spare for this little girl. Jane, you can let her have your
+old bonnet.'
+
+'Yes, mother, and my blue spencer, too, for I have left off wearing it.
+May I bring it?'
+
+'Yes, and make haste, for the poor child is very cold, as you may see,
+without a bit of a handkerchief on her neck this cold weather!'
+
+The children packed up the plates and the remains of the dinner on a
+tray, and took them to a room that their mother had at a small distance,
+where they slept, cooked, etc., as they could not do anything of that
+sort at the shop, on account of the fruit and flowers. The children soon
+returned with a bundle of clothes, which, though old, were by no means
+ragged, and, what was to me a great recommendation, they were all clean.
+From these things Mrs. Williams gave me a tolerably good pair of
+stockings and shoes, a very tidy straw bonnet with black ribbons, and a
+blue cloth spencer. The stockings, shoes, and spencer. I put on
+immediately, and felt so warm and comfortable that I seemed to myself
+quite a different creature. I offered to Mrs. Williams the money that
+had been collected for me in the morning, but she refused it, saying:
+
+'No, my dear, keep your pence; you will want them when you are gone into
+the country, and I cannot think of taking money from a poor friendless
+child like you. I have children of my own, and can feel for other
+people's.'
+
+This good woman then made up the remainder of the things into a small
+bundle, and told me that she should give them to me, and perhaps more,
+when I left her, which would most likely be the following day.
+
+'To-morrow is market morning,' said she. 'Several men that I know will
+be here with their cartloads of vegetables from the country. There is
+one in particular whom I think a very honest-hearted man. He is married,
+and has children of his own, so he may feel for you. I mean to ask him
+if he will try to get you employed at his master's, who has very
+extensive grounds indeed, and raises vegetables, fruits, and flowers for
+the London markets. He keeps more than fifty people employed about his
+grounds, and I think it will be a hard case if he cannot find room for
+you among them. What do you say, my girl? Will you like to be a
+gardener?'
+
+I replied that I did not know how to garden, but, if they would show me,
+I would do all I could to learn.
+
+'That is right,' said she. 'I hope they will engage you, and then, I
+dare say, you will do very well. I shall tell John Davis all your story,
+and that you are to be called Lady Anne, for that, as the good clergyman
+said, will be a more likely way for your father to discover you. It was
+not at all likely that he should find you out in such a dirty place as
+Smith's was, but it is probable that he may find you out at Freeman's
+nursery grounds, for, in the fine weather, he has crowds of quality go
+to look at his flowers and eat his fruit; and then, in the flower
+season, he has exhibitions of prize-tulips and prize carnations, when
+the nobility will go to see them, and there's such a number of carriages
+and curricles, and horses and gigs, and I don't know what besides, that
+the road is choked up like St. James's Street on a Court day; and who
+knows but your father may go among these great people? What do you say
+to that, Lady Anne?'
+
+Her description had brought former scenes to my mind, and the tears came
+into my eyes as I expressed my wish that my father might be among those
+who came to visit the gardens.
+
+The two children stayed all the afternoon, and employed themselves in
+needlework. Several people came and bought fruit and trees, such as
+geraniums, myrtles, and other greenhouse plants, so that Mrs. Williams
+had what she called a good day, and said it would pay her for what she
+was doing for me. About five o'clock we had tea; and, about nine all the
+fruit and shrubs were taken inside the shop, which was then shut up, and
+I accompanied Mrs. Williams and her daughters home to her room. When we
+arrived there, one of the children made a fire, while the other set the
+things upon the table for supper. Mrs. Williams looked round the room
+and said:
+
+'Well, you have been very good girls; everything looks neat and
+comfortable. We will first have our supper, and then we must think how
+we can make up a bed for this little girl.'
+
+I now felt so comfortable that, if I could have stayed with Mrs.
+Williams, I should have been completely happy, and I may say that the
+few hours I spent in her family were like a bright gleam of sunshine
+darting through the gloom that had long surrounded me. After our supper,
+which was bread and broth made from the mutton that was boiled for
+dinner, Mrs. Williams spread a small mattress upon the ground, which,
+with two blankets and a pillow, made me a very good bed. She then, from
+her daughters' clothes, picked me out two pretty good chemises, a
+flannel petticoat, and an old stuff-frock, which still was a very good
+one. After I had put on my clean linen, Mrs. Williams took my old
+clothes, excepting my stays, which I doubled up and laid under my
+pillow, and tying them in a small bundle, opened the window and threw
+them into the street, saying:
+
+'Bad as they are, they may be useful to some poor creature.'
+
+We then retired to bed, and I passed some hours in peaceful repose.
+
+
+Chapter VI
+
+We arose about four o'clock in the morning and went to the market,
+which, at this early hour, was crowded with waggons, carts, and country
+people, who had brought various kinds of vegetables for sale. Mrs.
+Williams and her eldest daughter went among these people to make their
+purchases, while the younger one, Jane, and myself went to the shop,
+which we opened, kindled a fire, and prepared everything for breakfast.
+About eight o'clock Mrs. Williams returned, accompanied by a clean,
+good-looking countryman, to whom she said:
+
+'This, Master Davis, is the little girl I was mentioning to you. I see
+breakfast is ready, so sit down and take a cup of tea with us, and I
+will tell you all I know about her, and how it was she came to me.'
+
+The good man took his seat at the table, and during the time of
+breakfast Mrs. Williams told him all my little story, and concluded by
+urging the request that he would try to get me engaged to work in Mr.
+Freeman's gardens.
+
+'I will do what I can,' said he; 'but this is a bad time of year to take
+on a fresh hand, and the child looks but weakly, and that, you know, is
+against her. However, I'll give her the chance, and take her down with
+me in the cart, and I'll go with her to Mr. Freeman and say what I can
+for her; and if he engages her, why, I'll let her be at my house as one
+of my children--that is, if my dame agrees to it, and belike she may, as
+we have children of our own, and don't know what they may come to; but
+if master will not engage her, why, I must bring her back again next
+market-day, for I cannot afford to keep her for nothing.'
+
+'No, no,' said Mrs. Williams; 'I don't desire that you should. If Mr.
+Freeman will not engage her, bring her back, and I must try to do
+something else for her; but say all you can in her favour. She is a
+friendless child, and you don't know what your own children may come
+to.'
+
+'Very true,' said he. 'I'll do all I can for her. But what be we to call
+her, as she has no right kind of name? Lady Anne is so long that I shall
+never get it all out.'
+
+'It is no longer than Mary Anne,' replied she; 'and I think if you are a
+wise man you will call her by her title and make your children do the
+same. If it should be the means of discovering her father, it might put
+a pretty sum into your pocket.'
+
+'Why, as for that, it might and it might not; but if it is the girl's
+name she shall be called by it, so there's an end to that. And now I
+must away to settle my money matters, and I'll come back for the child
+about eleven o'clock, so good-bye t'ye for the present.'
+
+Away went the man, leaving Mrs. Williams much pleased with the success
+she had met with, as she said she had not a doubt but Mr. Freeman would
+engage me when he knew it was one of his best customers that asked the
+favour. I was much pleased too, for, as I could not stay with Mrs.
+Williams, I did not venture to form a higher wish than to be engaged at
+Mr. Freeman's, for my spirits had been so much broken during my stay at
+Smith's that I no longer dared to indulge the hope of ever finding my
+father.
+
+About eleven o'clock my new friend, John Davis, came for me. Taking my
+little bundle under his arm, he conducted me to his cart. He lifted me
+in, and putting his horses into motion, we went shaking and rattling
+through the streets. This part of the journey was disagreeable enough;
+but when, at Knightsbridge, we entered the turnpike-road, then it began
+to be very pleasant. A complete thaw had succeeded to the frost; the
+fields and hedges looked green, and the air was as soft and mild as if
+it had been spring. I was seated on a truss of hay in the corner of the
+cart, and as we rode slowly along my spirits seemed to revive, and I
+once more indulged the pleasing hope of finding my father; then, again,
+as we advanced, my hope was damped by fear lest Mr. Freeman would not
+engage me, or lest Mrs. Davis should refuse to let me be at her house. I
+continued in this agitation of mind during the time of our little
+journey. At last we stopped at a cottage by the roadside, at a small
+distance from Turnham Green. John Davis lifted me out of the cart and
+led me into the house, where we were received by a woman, whom I
+immediately found was his wife.
+
+'You are late to-day,' said she; 'and, pray, who is this you have
+brought with you?'
+
+He took his seat near the fire (while I remained standing near the
+door), and briefly related my story to her, particularly dwelling on
+Mrs. Williams being such a good customer that he could not refuse to
+bring me.
+
+'Bless thee, John!' she said, as he concluded; 'I wish thee had as much
+wit as good nature, and thee would not have brought another person's
+child to burden us with. Suppose Master Freeman should not engage her,
+what's to be done then?'
+
+'I must take her back again, to be sure; but I don't see why he should
+not engage her--she's a clean, wholesome-looking girl.'
+
+The dame had eyed me pretty well during this conversation. She now gave
+me another scrutinizing gaze, and then said to her husband:
+
+'She may be clean and wholesome enough--I don't say anything against
+that--but she's as white as a curd, and does not look as if she has ever
+had a good meal of victuals in her life.'
+
+'The more's the pity, wife. Then let us give her one. I told you how
+cruelly that umbrella-maker in the borough used her. I should like to
+have the dressing of them with my horsewhip. I would lay it on them with
+goodwill, I give you my word.'
+
+'No fear of that,' replied his wife, 'and they deserve it, too. Come,
+child, don't stand there by the door; here's a seat for you by the fire.
+Dinner will soon be ready, and you shall not starve while you are with
+us, I give you my word; but whether we can let you stay or not is a
+different question.'
+
+Soon after this their three children, two girls and a boy, who were
+employed in the nursery-grounds, came in to dinner. The table was
+quickly spread, and we sat down to an ample repast of good boiled
+potatoes and fried bacon. After we had dined and sat awhile, Mr. Davis
+said to me:
+
+'Come, Miss Minnikin, let us go and see what Master Freeman will say to
+us. Why, wife, I'll be flogged if the girl does not look better already.
+I fancy she'll do credit to our keep.'
+
+'I suppose the child was cold and wanted her dinner,' replied his wife,
+'and now she has had it, of course she looks better. But do you see it
+is past one o'clock? You had better make haste; and you, children, be
+off to your work. You have stayed more than an hour at your dinner.'
+
+We now all departed for Mr. Freeman's, which was about half a quarter of
+a mile distant. The children went to their work in the garden, and Mr.
+Davis led me up to the house. After having given an account to Mr.
+Freeman of the money he had taken at the market that morning, he
+presented me to him, and mentioned Mrs. Williams's request.
+
+'Well, Master Davis,' said Mr. Freeman, 'I do not want another hand, you
+know very well; but Mrs. Williams is, as you say, a very good customer,
+and so, I suppose, we must give the child a trial. Take her to Master
+Joseph, and he will set her about something, and we shall be able to
+judge by Saturday night what she can earn, and you shall be paid what is
+right, for I suppose she will be with you.'
+
+'Yes, sir,' replied Mr. Davis. 'She shall take lot and scot among my own
+children. I shall make no difference.'
+
+'Well, well,' said Mr. Freeman, 'we will do what is right by her and you
+too.'
+
+I was then taken into the grounds to Mr. Joseph, who was the
+head-gardener. We found him working at a flower-bed. When he saw Mr.
+Davis he said:
+
+'Well, friend, what have you there--a lily or a snow-drop?'
+
+'Which you please, Master Joseph,' replied the other. 'She is a little
+girl that I have brought to put under your government.'
+
+He then gave him an account how he had met with me, told him I was an
+Earl's daughter, but had lost my father, and was to be called Lady Anne.
+At this Mr. Joseph laughed, and said 'he had no objection to call me
+Lady Anne, but that he should forget and call me Lady Lily.' After a
+little more talk it was agreed that I should go the following morning,
+as they both said it was too late for me to begin work that day. Mr.
+Davis then conducted me back to his cottage, and having told his wife
+that I was engaged, he went away to his work. The good dame told me that
+I might sit down and rest myself, for she supposed I was tired. I really
+was very tired, but seeing her engaged in mending the family clothes, I
+told her that if she pleased I would help her.
+
+'What!' said she; 'can you sew? I am sure if you can I shall be very
+glad of your help, for my girls never put in a stitch, even for
+themselves, except it is some finery for Sundays, and then they do it
+because I can't do it well enough for them. There, my girl, if you can
+mend me those stockings you'll do me a service. They have holes large
+enough for you to put your hand through. I have sometimes thought that
+if the girls would not mend their stockings themselves they should wear
+them with holes in, and so they would, for never a stitch would they put
+in, and then I am ashamed of seeing them go about in rags, so I keep
+mending for them; but I have so much to do that I can hardly keep them
+tidy.'
+
+I took the stockings and found the dame had described them very
+correctly, for one of the holes was so large that I actually did put my
+hand through it. However, by dint of close application, I mended two
+pairs of them before it was quite dark. I was then obliged to lay aside
+my work, as Mrs. Davis said she should not yet light a candle, and I
+need not do any more work till after tea. My having helped her at the
+needlework put her into high good humour, and she asked me a great many
+questions, and said she was glad that Mr. Freeman had engaged me, and
+that, if I behaved myself properly, I should be very welcome to stay
+with them till I was old enough to take care of myself. These kind
+expressions, so different to any I had heard for a long time, cheered my
+heart. I thanked her most sincerely, and promised to do all I could to
+please her. I then helped her to prepare the tea. Soon after this Mr.
+Davis and the children came in. We sat down to our tea, and during the
+repast the eager questions of the children as to who I was, where I came
+from, and what I was to do, were more attended to than they had been at
+dinner-time. Their father gave them some account of me, and made me
+relate all the particulars of my falling into the kennel with the pie.
+They all laughed heartily, and now that I was out of danger, I could not
+help laughing at it myself.
+
+'That smashing of the pie is a good joke,' said Mr. Davis. 'I should
+like to see how the Smiths looked when you did not go back, and when
+they heard that you had laid their pie in the gutter. I warrant they
+would wear out more pairs of shoes than they would sell in a week in
+running after the old woman and the boys; but I can tell you, girl, it
+was a lucky chance for you that you did tumble down, or else you would
+still have been with them misericating in their dirty garret. By-the-by,
+dame, where's the girl to sleep?'
+
+'That question is sooner asked than answered,' replied his wife. 'You
+know there is not a bit to spare in the house; the children cannot be
+put out of their beds. There is no way that I can see but for her to
+have a blanket and sleep among the hay in the loft over the stable. I
+have slept so many a time when I was a girl, and was none the worse for
+it.'
+
+'I wish you could make room for her in the house,' answered her husband.
+'I do not like the thought of turning her out of the house, as it were.
+Could you not make her up a bed on the floor?'
+
+'No, no,' replied his wife, 'I cannot. I can see no hardship in her
+sleeping upon clean sweet hay, with a good blanket to wrap round her.'
+
+To shorten the contest I said that I thought I could sleep very well
+upon the hay, though I certainly should have preferred sleeping in the
+house, but I was afraid they would quarrel on my account, which would
+have been to my injury; and, at all events, the hay-loft was a better
+place to sleep in than the wretched attic at Mr. Smith's. This point
+being settled, Mr. Davis went out, as he had not yet finished his day's
+work, and it being dark, so that no more work could be done in the
+gardens, the children remained at home.
+
+I had now an opportunity of observing these children. The eldest was a
+girl, seemingly about thirteen, of a healthy, robust appearance, but by
+no means neat in her dress. The second, a girl of eleven, with much the
+same appearance as her sister; and the youngest, a boy, seemingly about
+nine, a chubby, good-natured-looking little fellow, and, I thought, very
+like his father. After the tea-things were put away, the girls brought
+each a little box to the table, in which was a quantity of odd pieces of
+muslin, ribbon, silk, etc., and they passed the evening in making these
+things up into frills and other articles of finery. The boy brought a
+quantity of wood to the further end of the table, and with no tool but a
+knife and a little saw, he employed himself in making little toys. That
+evening he made a dining-table and a chair.
+
+'Tommy is a clever boy,' said the mother to me, seeing I was looking at
+his work. 'He amuses himself of an evening in making these kind of toys,
+and he sells them to young gentlemen and ladies in the neighbourhood,
+and I assure you they like his toys better than what they buy in the
+shops. What was it Master Watson gave you for the little boat, Tommy?'
+
+'Half a crown, mother; but I was two weeks in making it; and last week I
+earned two shillings in making chairs and tables.'
+
+I felt curious to know what Tommy did with his money, as he earned so
+much, but I did not like to ask the question, as that would have been
+rude. However, his mother, who seemed very fond of him, and, I thought,
+justly so, soon told me.
+
+'Tommy earns a great deal of money by this kind of work, which is his
+play,' said she; 'and he gives every farthing of it to his father and
+me. Part of it we lay out in clothes for him, and the rest we are saving
+till he is ten years old, and then he is to go to school, and his own
+money will pay for it. We take what he earns at the grounds for his
+keep, but all that he earns of an evening shall be laid out upon
+himself. I wish my girls were half as industrious.'
+
+'Why, la! mother,' said the eldest, 'you would never let us amuse
+ourselves at all, I believe. We go to the grounds as soon as it is light
+of a morning and work there till it is dark of an evening, and you have
+all the money we earn. I don't know what more you would have.'
+
+'I would have you mend your own clothes, hussy, and not spend all these
+long evenings in making up a parcel of finery that only makes people
+laugh at you.'
+
+I was much afraid that the mother and daughter would have quarrelled,
+but Tommy, showing his workmanship to his mother, took her attention
+from his sister, and thus peace was restored. Mrs. Davis and I spent the
+evening, till nine o'clock, in mending stockings. Then her husband came
+in, and we sat down to our supper of bread and cheese and small beer.
+
+After supper was over Mr. Davis would not allow any more work to be
+done, so we sat and chatted till ten o'clock, which was bedtime. Mrs.
+Davis then gave me a piece of rush-light in a lanthorn, and I was shown
+to the hay-loft, where the fragrant smell of the hay was as refreshing
+as the dirt at Mr. Smith's had been disgusting.
+
+I soon tossed up a sufficient quantity of hay to make myself a soft nice
+bed; and, after having on my knees returned thanks to the Almighty for
+having delivered me from such a state of misery as I had been in, I
+wrapped the blanket around me, and, laying down on the hay, was soon in
+a profound slumber.
+
+
+Chapter VII
+
+I was awakened the next morning about seven o'clock by Mr. Davis, who
+came into the stable below, calling out:
+
+'What! hollo, lassy! Be you awake? Come, it's time to get up. Breakfast
+is almost ready, and you must be in the gardens by eight o'clock.'
+
+I had slept so soundly, and had such an uncommonly long night to what I
+had for the last eight months been accustomed to, that I did not at
+first recollect where I was, but, quickly remembering everything, I
+answered Mr. Davis, and, dressing myself as expeditiously as possible I
+went down. Going into an outhouse, where there was plenty of water, I
+gave myself a good washing, and, having combed my hair with a comb that
+Mrs. Williams had given me, I went into the house and found the family
+just beginning their breakfast.
+
+'I'll be flogged if the girl does not look five pounds better than she
+did yesterday morning, when I first saw her at Mrs. Williams's!' said
+Mr. Davis. 'You have slept well, girl, I'll answer for it.'
+
+'Yes, sir,' I replied. 'I have slept better than I did all the time I
+was at Mr. Smith's.'
+
+'I knew she would sleep well upon the sweet hay,' said Mrs. Davis. 'But,
+come, child, take your breakfast. It is almost time you should be gone.'
+
+Breakfast being soon over, I accompanied the children to the garden,
+where, having conducted me to Mr. Joseph, they went to their own work in
+another part of the grounds.
+
+Mr. Joseph was a grave man, between fifty and sixty years of age. He
+superintended all the work of the garden. Some of the children he
+instructed himself in what they were to do, and some he put under the
+care of other people. He had read a good deal, and understood botany,
+and knew the Latin names of all the trees and plants in the garden. That
+Mr. Freeman had sent me to be under his own care, I was very glad, for
+he seemed a very good-natured man. After a little conversation, in which
+he asked me if I could read, if I knew anything about gardening, and a
+few more of the like questions, he set me to pick the weeds and stones
+out of a bed of pinks, and, having shown me how to do it, he left me to
+myself. I worked diligently at my new employment (frequently
+congratulating myself on the happy change I had made). The clock struck
+twelve, when we all went home to dinner. One hour was allowed for that
+repast. When I returned in the afternoon, Mr. Joseph came to see what I
+had done. He commended my diligence, and, as the first bed was
+tolerably well weeded, he told me to go on to the next, and I was again
+left to myself.
+
+In high spirits at being praised, which was quite a new thing to me, I
+worked on all the afternoon till about four o'clock, when it became too
+dark to distinguish plants from weeds; then, in company with the
+children, I returned home to Davis's cottage. What a delightful contrast
+did this cottage present to the miserable shop and parlour at Smith's!
+There everything was spoiled by dirt and confusion: here all was clean.
+The brick floor was nicely swept and sanded, a cheerful fire blazed in
+the grate, and the tea, with plenty of coarse bread and salt butter, was
+ready upon the table, and the countenances of the family expressed
+health and contentment. After tea was over I again offered my services
+to Mrs. Davis to assist her in her sewing. They were willingly accepted,
+and this evening passed as the former one had done. At ten o'clock I
+again retired to my bed in the loft.
+
+The week passed rapidly away, and I had the pleasure of being very much
+praised by Mr. Joseph, who said I should soon be a better gardener than
+any of the children on the grounds. Saturday night came, and Mr. Davis
+received for my work at the rate of sixpence a day, which, he said, was
+rather more than he had expected. Mrs. Davis was also very well
+contented, and said that what with the money I earned, and what with the
+sewing I did for her of an evening, they should be very well paid for
+me. I was much pleased that my new friends were so well satisfied with
+me, and I looked upon myself as being now settled in a comfortable home.
+I was also upon very good terms with the children. The girls were
+pleased that I mended their clothes for them, which prevented their
+being so much blamed by their mother; and Tommy was so grateful to me
+for having mended some of his that he made me a little box for me to put
+my money in when I had any. I offered the money that had been given to
+me at Covent Garden to Mrs. Davis, but she told me to keep it till I
+wanted a pair of shoes, and that then they would make up the deficiency
+for me. I accordingly put it into my box and deposited it in a safe
+corner of my loft.
+
+Thus passed away the winter months. I was under the care of Mr. Joseph
+more than the other children that were employed about the grounds; for,
+as I could read, he taught me the Latin as well as the English names of
+the different plants and flowers, so that I could bring him any that he
+wanted from either the green or the hothouse. When I had been there two
+months, my wages were raised to four shillings a week; besides that, Mr.
+Joseph often gave me a penny for myself.
+
+The tranquil, and I may say happy, life I now led soon made a great
+alteration in my personal appearance. I grew plump, and by the time the
+month of March came, I had such a colour in my cheeks that Mr. Joseph
+said his lily was turned into a rose.
+
+As the days increased in length, our hours of labour were also
+increased, for we were now on the ground by six in the morning, and did
+not leave work till seven in the evening. This lengthening of the days
+was a great advantage to me. I awoke with the dawn, and generally had a
+full hour to myself before any other part of the family was up. Then I
+used to contemplate the portrait of my dear father, which I used to talk
+to as if it could understand me, to mend my clothes, and to read in old
+school-books of the children's that were lying about, and never looked
+into by their owners. All the books I had ever read were the Bible,
+Testament, Prayer Book, and the spelling-book. The old books belonging
+to the children were an abridgment of the history of England, a small
+geography, and a little book of poetry. I took such pleasure in reading
+these books that I could soon repeat the whole pages of them without a
+single mistake, and the poetry I soon learned from the beginning to the
+ending of the book.
+
+The flower season was now advanced, and ladies and gentlemen came to
+walk in the garden, and to buy flowers. I was always anxious to see
+them, that I might have an opportunity of observing if any of the
+gentlemen resembled my father's portrait. Mr. Joseph, who knew my story,
+was so good-natured as to send me to them with flowers, and, as I was
+always particular to keep myself neat and clean, the ladies were rather
+pleased with my attendance than otherwise. One day, when I carried a
+large quantity of flowers to a party, one of the gentlemen said:
+
+'This little damsel is the finest plant in the whole garden, for she
+carries violets in her eyes and roses upon her cheeks.'
+
+The ladies laughed at what they called his compliment, while I was so
+much abashed that, giving the flowers into the hands of one of the
+ladies, I retreated to a distant part of the garden. After this I made
+my observations at a greater distance, but, alas! among the hundreds who
+visited the garden, I could not discover one who resembled the portrait.
+
+Thus employed, my days flew rapidly past, and I was so happy that,
+unless it had been to discover my father, I did not wish for any change
+in my situation; but clouds of sorrow again gathered around me, and I
+was soon very unhappy. My unhappiness arose from two causes: the first
+was that most of the children envied me on account of the partiality
+shown me by Mr. Joseph, and would jeer at me because I was called Lady
+Anne. Mr. Davis's children were not among the number of these, for, on
+account of my mending their clothes, they were upon very good terms with
+me. The second cause of my unhappiness was of a more serious nature, and
+arose from what I could not have expected, and from what I could not and
+would not alter, as I shall soon explain.
+
+As the summer advanced, such of the children as were turned of twelve
+years of age, and were able to carry a basket upon their heads, were
+sent to town with flowers and fruit, which would have been crushed and
+bruised if sent to town in the cart. Mr. Davis's eldest daughter and
+myself were amongst the number of these.
+
+At first I was much pleased at the thought of this walk, as it was an
+agreeable change from our usual mode of living; the flowers were light
+to carry, and the walk was not so long as to be a fatigue. I also looked
+forward to the pleasure I should have in seeing Mrs. Williams, and
+thanking her for having procured me such a happy situation.
+
+On the appointed morning we left the garden and proceeded to town under
+the guidance of two or three women and one man, who was one of the
+principal gardeners. They also carried their baskets, which were larger
+and heavier laden than ours.
+
+The walk to town was pleasant. We arrived at the market, and in about
+two hours had sold off all our stock. Mrs. Williams bought the contents
+of my basket, and congratulated me on the great improvement in my health
+and appearance.
+
+Richard having paid some fees which were customary for the privilege of
+standing in the market, we took up our baskets and began to walk
+homeward. We had not gone far when Richard entered a public-house, the
+women and children followed, I, of course, did the same. We went into a
+room where there was no one but ourselves; there we all had to give up
+our money to Richard, which he counted over. He took out two shillings
+to be spent in the house, one shilling for himself, ninepence for each
+of the women, and sixpence apiece for the children; then, putting the
+remainder of the money together, said that was for the master. I was so
+astonished at this proceeding that I asked him what he meant by it. He
+laughed at me, and said it was a general rule among themselves to make a
+little deduction on market-days to pay them for the trouble of coming to
+town.
+
+'I thought,' said I, 'that Mr. Freeman paid us for our work on Saturday
+night. Does he know that you take this money?'
+
+'Know it, blockhead! no. And it will be the worse for you if you tell
+him. Come, take your sixpence, and think yourself well off that we let
+you share with us.'
+
+'I do not want the sixpence,' said I, 'unless it is to give it to Mr.
+Freeman, for it is his money, and I will not keep it.'
+
+'Lady Anne,' said Susan Davis, 'do not be a simpleton. Take the money,
+and do not pretend to more honesty than the rest of us.'
+
+'I cannot take the money,' said I. 'Mr. Sanders told me never to take
+other people's property, but always to do as I would be done by.'
+
+'You shall not have the money,' said Richard, at the same time giving me
+a violent slap across the shoulders. 'Mr. Sanders was a canting old
+Methodist, and you are like him. But take care, if you say a word of
+what has passed I will be the death of you.'
+
+The women and children were also in a violent rage, and began beating me
+and pulling my hair, so that I was afraid they would really kill me, and
+I cried out, begging them not to beat me, and that I would not tell.
+
+'Let her alone,' said Susan Davis; 'she will not tell, I'll answer for
+her. I'll talk to her when we are at home; and, I dare say, next
+market-day, she will do as we do.'
+
+'Aye, let her alone,' said Richard, 'or Joseph will find out that we
+have been thumping her. She has a pretty swelled face to show. But mind,
+girl, if you say a word of what has passed I'll tie you neck and heels,
+and throw you into a pond.'
+
+I was obliged to renew my promise of secrecy, and soon after we left the
+house.
+
+When we came to town in the morning the distance had appeared as nothing
+to me, my heart was then so light; but now I felt so wretched that the
+distance seemed more than double, the empty basket felt so heavy on my
+head, and I felt myself like a guilty culprit who had robbed her master.
+
+When we arrived at the grounds Richard went to give an account of the
+morning's sale, and what money he thought proper, to his master. The
+women and children went to their work in different parts of the garden,
+and I also concealed myself from Mr. Joseph's sight, lest he should see
+that I had been in tears.
+
+In the afternoon he called for me, and I tremblingly obeyed his summons.
+
+'Why, Lady Anne, how is this?' said he. 'Why do you not like to come to
+me as usual? How did you like your walk this morning? But what is the
+matter? You have been crying.'
+
+'I am so tired,' I replied, 'and the basket was heavy.'
+
+'That is not all,' said he, regarding me very earnestly; 'somebody has
+been beating you, for you have the marks of the blows upon your face and
+shoulders. Who was it?'
+
+'Pray, sir, do not ask me,' said I; 'for if I tell you I shall be beat
+more.'
+
+'Well, well,' said he, 'I will not ask you. I have long seen that the
+girls envied you. They think that I favour you, and, if I do, it is
+their own fault. There is not one among them that, if I sent to the
+greenhouse for a plant, but will either come back without it, or bring
+me a wrong one, though they have all been sent to school, and might have
+learned to read if they would. There are Davis's two daughters: Mr.
+Freeman paid for their schooling for two years, yet neither of them can
+read the names of the plants. But you are envied because I employ you in
+doing what they cannot do. Well, never mind, Rose, you shall not go to
+town any more with them, but stay here with me, and attend to the ladies
+and gentlemen.'
+
+I was glad to hear Mr. Joseph say this, for I was in hopes I should be
+free from any further trouble, and be as happy as I had been; but sorrow
+had again burst upon me like a storm, and I was not yet to be rescued
+from its fury.
+
+When we went home at night, Susan took an opportunity when her father
+was out of the house to tell her mother the adventures of the morning,
+with some alterations of her own; and I was astonished to hear her
+mother defend the conduct of Richard and the others, and blame me for
+not joining the robbery; and, when I would not say that the next time we
+went to town (for I did not dare to tell them that I was not to go any
+more) I would take my share in the plunder, she was completely in a
+rage, and kept repeating that there was no harm in taking the money. At
+last I ventured to say:
+
+'Would you think it right of me, ma'am, if I was to rob _you_?'
+
+'To rob _me_, child! No. But that is quite a different thing. To rob
+_me_! No. You would be the most ungrateful creature that ever lived if
+you did. I took you in, and sheltered you when you had not a hole to put
+your head in, nor a morsel of victuals to eat.'
+
+'You did, ma'am,' I replied; 'and I would do anything I could to serve
+you. I would not rob nor injure you upon any account. And I cannot rob
+Mr. Freeman, for he gave me employment when I had none, and he pays me
+six shillings a week. How ungrateful I should be if I could rob him. I
+cannot do it; indeed, I cannot.'
+
+'Take your supper and go to bed,' said Mrs. Davis. 'I cannot argue with
+you, but I know that you are a very foolish child.'
+
+I did as I was ordered, and retired to my loft, and happy should I have
+been if this disagreeable business ended there, but a few evenings
+after, just before we left the gardens, I went to put a knife into a
+basket that belonged to Susan, and, to my surprise and grief, found that
+it concealed five fine peaches in it. I trembled so when I saw them that
+I could scarcely cover them over again, and soon after, as we were
+walking home, with great civility and humility I ventured to remonstrate
+with her on the great impropriety, and indeed danger, of her robbing the
+garden.
+
+'What business have you to look into my basket?' said she. 'If you do
+not choose to take a little fruit yourself you have no right to meddle
+with them that do; however, I shall tell mother, and I hope she'll turn
+you into the wide world again as you were when you came to us.'
+
+When we arrived at home Mr. Davis was in the house, and Susan did not
+choose to say anything till he went out; she then opened the basket,
+showed the peaches to her mother, and made a heavy complaint of my
+impertinence in telling her she ought not to take them, that it was
+stealing, and would, if discovered, most likely be the cause of her
+being discharged from the garden.
+
+Mrs. Davis was in such a passion that she struck me several times, and
+said I should be the cause of her children being turned out of work.
+
+'Don't say me, mother,' said Tommy, 'for I shall not steal. The
+Catechism says I am to keep my hands from picking and stealing, and
+father says if I steal I shall come to be hanged, so that you may depend
+upon it I shall not steal, and I wish sisters would not.'
+
+'You are a little blockhead,' replied his mother; 'and as for Lady Anne,
+if she does not mind what she is about I shall turn her out of doors,
+and she may go a-begging.'
+
+The peaches were then put out of sight. Soon after this Mr. Davis came
+in; we had our supper, and at ten o'clock went to bed.
+
+In the course of the following day the peaches were missed at the
+garden, for Mr. Freeman had counted the fruit on some of the principal
+trees, and this day he found that three peaches had been taken from one
+tree and two from another. We were all questioned about it, and all our
+baskets were examined, but as all denied the theft and no fruit could be
+found, no one could be charged with it. Mr. Freeman was very angry on
+this occasion, as he well might, and ordered Mr. Joseph to keep a strict
+watch over all the workpeople, as he was determined to make an example
+of whoever should be detected robbing him, let it be who it might. I was
+anxious to know what the children did with the fruit, as I never saw
+them eating it, and I soon found that when their father was out of the
+house (for they did not dare to let him know of their ill practices) the
+fruit was exposed in the window for sale. Their father having a small
+garden, in which were a few fruit trees, served as an excuse for all the
+fruit they had to sell, and thus they contrived to deceive their father
+and rob their master.
+
+The strict watch kept by Mr. Joseph, and some of the honest people in
+the garden, prevented any fruit being taken for some time, but the plum
+season coming on, and the plums on a tree not being so easily counted,
+nor so soon missed, as peaches, the children again ventured to take a
+few, and their father having two fine trees of the kind in his garden,
+if once the plums could be got home there was no likelihood of their
+being detected.
+
+I did not watch the children, nor wish to know anything of what they did
+in the garden, yet somehow it seemed as if I was always to find them out
+in their thefts, for I one day suddenly came upon them just as they were
+cramming about a dozen fine Orlean plums into their pockets. I covered
+my face with my hands, and said:
+
+'Oh, why will you do so? We shall all be discharged.'
+
+'_You_ shall be discharged,' said Susan, darting at me and slapping me
+with all her strength. 'What business have you to watch us? This is the
+first bit of fruit we have taken since those nasty peaches, and now, I
+suppose, you will go and tell.'
+
+'No, I shall not,' replied I; 'but I wish you would not take any more
+fruit. You know what Mr. Freeman said.'
+
+'Yes, and you shall know what my mother will say. I am not to be
+followed about and watched, and lose my place, for a tell-tale
+beggar-girl.'
+
+I again assured her that I should not tell, and went away to a distant
+part of the garden, my mind being very unhappy, for I thought that if
+these thefts were discovered we should all be discharged, and again I
+thought that perhaps I was doing very wrong in concealing them, but then
+how could I bring people who were so kind to me into disgrace, and even
+into want of bread? I did not know what to do, but, after much
+considering in my own mind, I determined that when Saturday night came
+to ask Mr. Joseph to give me only five shillings, and not to ask me any
+questions, for I thought that the odd shilling would partly pay for the
+fruit Mr. Davis's children took. Having made this determination I felt
+rather happier, though I dreaded the resentment of Mrs. Davis and the
+children. When night came we went home together, the children not
+speaking to me once the whole way. When we arrived at the house Mr.
+Davis was out, and Susan asked her mother to give Tommy his supper, as
+she had something to say to her. The mother, who saw something
+particular was the matter, hurried the child to bed, while I sat on a
+chair near the door sick at my very heart. No sooner had her brother
+left the room than Susan told of the discovery of the plums, with many
+additions of her own. Mrs. Davis was in such a passion that she could
+scarcely speak for two or three minutes; she seized me by the arm, and
+shook me violently.
+
+'I will put a stop to this,' said she as soon as she had recovered her
+breath. 'You shall not stay here to be the ruin of my children, you
+ungrateful creature. Don't we feed you and clothe you? Don't you have
+all the children's old clothes, and don't you mend them up and make them
+look so smart that you look as well dressed as they do, though their
+clothes are new and yours are old? Oh, you ungrateful creature. You
+would ruin us all for our kindness to you.'
+
+She then ran over the affair of the peaches, and of my refusing to take
+the money at the market, reproaching me at every sentence, till she
+increased her anger to such degree that she seemed to lose her reason,
+and, again seizing me by the arm, she said she would give me cause to
+repent of my ingratitude to the latest moment of my life, when at the
+instant I expected to be dashed to the ground, to her great dismay, and
+to my great relief, an inner door opened, and her husband entered the
+room.
+
+'Stop, mistress,' said he, 'do not dare to hurt that child. I came in by
+the wash-house, and have heard all Suke's story, and have heard who
+stole the peaches. Little did I think, when there was such a piece of
+work about them, that my own children were the thieves, and little did I
+think, when Suke was so pleased at going to market, that it was because
+she was to go shares with a parcel of thieves in robbing her master.'
+
+'Now, John,' said his wife, 'how can you talk so? What harm is there in
+the children taking a few pence apiece? They have more trouble when they
+go to town, and they ought to be paid for it. You know that all the
+workpeople make a market-penny.'
+
+'I know no such thing,' replied her husband. 'They are allowed money for
+refreshment when they go to town, and if they take more than the master
+allows I say that they cheat him, but I'll put a stop to Suke's tricks,
+for she shall not go to town any more. I shall speak to Mr. Joseph about
+that.'
+
+'Why, surely you are not going to tell him that they divided a few pence
+among them.'
+
+'No, wife, I am not, but I shall ask him not to let her leave the
+garden, for that I don't think she is steady enough to be sent to town
+yet. And now, you two girls, hear what I say to you. Every one of those
+plums must be returned. You must take all of them back again, and lay
+them under the trees that you took them from, and next time that I know
+you to steal a single thing, aye, if its only a single plum, I'll
+horsewhip you while I can stand over you.'
+
+The father was now silent, the two girls sat weeping, and the mother,
+who had been very much agitated, first by anger and then by fear, threw
+herself into a chair, and burst into a violent passion of tears. Mr.
+Davis walked two or three times across the floor, and then stopping,
+said:
+
+'Now what's the use of crying and taking on in this manner? Is it not as
+easy to be honest as to be thieves? Oh, wife, wife, you do not consider
+what a bad course our girls have begun in. They have begun with trifles,
+but they will go on till they take something great, and then they will
+either be transported or hung, and that will break our hearts, and bring
+our grey hairs with sorrow to the grave.'
+
+'Oh, John, do not talk so,' said Mrs. Davis; 'I cannot bear to hear you
+talk about the grave. The girls shall not steal any more. If they bring
+home any more fruit I will not put it into the window, nor sell it, so
+now let us have done with it, and let us be friends again.'
+
+'Aye, let us be friends, with all my heart,' said Mr. Davis, taking his
+wife's hand, 'and I hope nothing of this sort will ever happen again.
+Now, children, leave off crying, and be good girls, and remember that
+honesty is the best policy, for if you follow bad practices you will
+also be poor and despised.'
+
+Soon after this we had our supper, which we took nearly in silence, for
+we were all of us in grief, though from different causes, and from some
+angry glances cast at me by Mrs. Davis I saw I had yet more to dread
+from her resentment. When I was going to bed Mr. Davis said:
+'Good-night, Lady Anne, do not cry; I am not angry with you. You are a
+good girl. I wish my own children were as honest.'
+
+Mrs. Davis and the girls also wished me good-night, but in such a cold,
+constrained manner that I trembled for what might be the consequences of
+their anger. When I reached my loft I gazed with tears upon my father's
+picture, and earnestly did I wish and pray that I might at some time be
+restored to his protection. I then retired to my bed among the hay, and
+there, for the first time since I had been in the family, I wept myself
+to sleep.
+
+Early in the morning I went to the garden. Mrs. Davis's children did not
+choose to walk with me, so I went alone. When I returned home to
+breakfast (it being market-day Mr. Davis was gone to town) his wife and
+daughters did not speak to me once during the meal, excepting to tell me
+that the plums were laid under the trees. I finished my breakfast as
+soon as I could and returned to my work, grieved that I had lost the
+goodwill of people who were really kind to me, but whose practices were
+such as I could not follow. The hour of dinner came, and with a heavy
+heart I went to the cottage, dreading the angry looks, and perhaps
+reproaches, of Mrs. Davis. When I arrived there I found the brother and
+sister-in-law of Mrs. Davis were paying her a visit. I had seen these
+people once before, and soon after I came into the family; they were
+pedlars, and traversed the county from one end of it to the other. The
+man carried a large pack filled with linens, muslins, stuffs, and many
+other articles for clothing; his wife carried two boxes, with trinkets,
+lace, millinery, and a great variety of light goods. When I entered the
+room they turned their eyes upon me as if I had been the subject of
+their conversation, which I quickly found had been the case, for Mrs.
+Davis said to them:
+
+'That is the girl I have been telling you of. She would be of great use
+to you, for she could carry one of the boxes, and in my house she is of
+no use in the world, but quite a burden to us, and she makes quarrels
+between my husband and me, for you know that Davis is so particular, and
+has such odd notions about honesty, that he seems to think it next thing
+to murder to take a bit of fruit or a sixpence belonging to Mr. Freeman.
+You never heard such a piece of work as we had last night because the
+girls had taken a few plums.'
+
+She then in her own way told her brother of the keeping back part of the
+market-money and of the peaches. I was surprised that she was not
+ashamed of telling such things, but she was not, and her brother only
+laughed at them, and said that honesty was very well in its place, but
+that it was ridiculous to carry it so far.'
+
+'But, however,' said he, 'I shall have no objection to Lady Anne (I
+think you call her) being very honest with us. I shall not be afraid of
+her robbing me.'
+
+'No, indeed,' replied his sister; 'you will have no cause. You might
+trust her with your pack and boxes all open; she would not rob you of a
+farthing's worth; she is only _too_ honest, that is her fault.'
+
+'And it is a fault that perhaps I can cure her of,' returned her
+brother. 'But she has only been used to gardening. She will be of very
+little use to us, for we do not want a girl merely to carry a band-box.'
+
+'She can work very well at her needle,' quickly answered his sister. 'It
+is unknown the sewing she has done for me since she has been here. I
+have never had the children so tidy in my life as since she has been
+with us. I shall miss her help very much, that I know I shall.'
+
+'Do not let me go,' said I, for I was really frightened at the thought
+of being sent away with Mr. Sharpley and his wife. 'Pray let me stay. I
+will work so hard; I will do everything I can to please you.'
+
+'Will you promise to take a little fruit, as the others do, and not say
+anything when you see my children take some, and to take a market-penny
+when you can get it?' answered Mrs. Davis. 'Promise me that, and you
+shall stay.'
+
+'I cannot promise it,' said I, bursting into tears, 'for I must not
+steal.'
+
+'Very well, then, you shall go,' returned she. 'It is entirely your own
+fault. I had no wish to part with you, but I cannot keep you to turn my
+children out of bread.'
+
+'Lady Anne is a _nonsuch_ of honesty,' said Mr. Sharpley; 'but I warrant
+she will tell a different tale by this time twelvemonths. What say you,
+wife? Shall we take her or not?'
+
+'As she can work at her needle,' replied Mrs. Sharpley, 'suppose we give
+her a trial for a few months. If she does not do for us, we can bring
+her back again; and as for her honesty, that will not hurt us.'
+
+'Well, then, I suppose it is a bargain,' said Mr. Sharpley, 'so, my
+girl, if you have any better clothes make haste and put them on; and,
+sister, let us have a bit of dinner, as I want to be going.'
+
+'And I want you gone,' replied his sister, 'for if my good man comes
+home before you are off, it's ten to one but he knocks all the business
+on the head, and I shall have the girl on my hands again. Lady Anne,
+make haste; and you, Suke, look after her a little.'
+
+This command to Susan to watch me prevented my following a plan I had
+just formed, which was to run back to the garden and tell Mr. Joseph
+that they were going to send me away against my will; but I suppose they
+were afraid I should do so, for Susan did not leave me a single moment
+till I was washed and dressed. I then entered the room where they all
+were, and presented myself before them, with the tears running down my
+face.
+
+'She is a genteel-looking child,' said Mrs. Sharpley; 'but what are you
+crying for, simpleton? We shall not hurt you, and you need not steal
+unless you like, so pray set your heart at ease.'
+
+I did try to check my tears, for I considered that I could never be
+happy at the cottage any more, though it grieved me to the heart to part
+with people who had been so kind to me, especially Mr. Joseph, Mr.
+Davis, and little Tommy, who was gone to town with his father; and these
+I was obliged to leave, without so much as saying _good-bye_ to them. I
+was not able to eat a morsel of dinner, and Mr. and Mrs. Sharpley having
+finished theirs, we rose up to depart. I sobbed so that I could not
+speak. Mrs. Davis and the girls seemed a little affected. They shook
+hands with me, wished me well, and said they hoped I should grow wiser
+in time; then, with a band-box before me, that was fastened by a strap
+that went over my shoulders, I left the cottage, following my new master
+and mistress.
+
+
+Chapter VIII
+
+Being thus turned out of the cottage, where I had once been so happy, I
+followed the footsteps of Mr. and Mrs. Sharpley, frequently looking back
+to see if I could discover Mr. Davis and his cart coming from town,
+which, if I had, I should certainly have run back, told him what had
+passed, and asked him to take me back to Mrs. Williams, instead of
+sending me away with strangers. But no cart came in view, and a turning
+in the road soon hid even the cottage from my sight. I then walked
+pensively forward, meditating on my own unhappy fate, and comparing it
+with that of other children who were blessed with parents and relations.
+Mr. and Mrs. Sharpley had frequently looked back, as if to see that I
+followed them, but--here the path became wider--they told me to come and
+walk between them. I did so, and they then asked me a great many
+questions respecting my story, all of which I was obliged to answer, so
+that they soon knew every particular, excepting my having my father's
+picture, which I took care not to give the least hint of. They then
+asked me about my age, and, as I could not answer them exactly, they
+calculated it as well as they could from circumstances. Supposing I was
+five years old at the time of my mother's death, as I was seven years at
+E----, I must have been twelve years old the November before I went to
+the Smiths, thirteen last November, when I ran away from them; and
+should be fourteen next November. It was now the beginning of September.
+This point being settled, they began talking of other things, told me
+what a pleasant life I should lead with them, that all my employment
+would be to carry a light band-box during the days, and in the evenings,
+when they arrived at the inn where they were to pass the night, to work
+at my needle. To this I had no objection, and began to think I should
+not be so unhappy as I had at first supposed; but the idea of their
+stealing still predominated in my mind, though I could not imagine how
+they could do it, as the goods they carried were their own, and they
+could not rob themselves, and I was at a loss to think how they could
+commit theft. Simpleton that I was, I never thought that they could rob
+other people.
+
+As we proceeded, they told me the names of the different places we
+passed through. They stopped at all the genteel houses, and many of the
+farmhouses, to ask them if they wanted any goods. Several bought a good
+many things of them; others would scarcely give them an answer, but
+almost shut their doors in our faces. Thus passed away several hours.
+The shades of evening were beginning to fall, and I was very weary with
+walking so much, when we entered a large town, where they told me we
+should pass the night. We went to a small inn, which they said was the
+house where they always slept when they came to this town. We were shown
+to a room that they called their own, as it was kept entirely for their
+use. Mrs. Sharpley ordered tea, and her husband said to her:
+
+'Come, my dear, we must see if we have a remnant of some stuff to make a
+dress for Lady Anne. She is very well dressed for a gardener's girl, but
+not smart enough for us.'
+
+The pack was then opened, and they picked out the remains of a piece of
+very pretty slate-coloured stuff sufficiently large to make me a dress.
+
+'Now,' said Mrs. Sharpley, 'after tea we must stitch away, for your
+dress must be made this night before you go to bed.'
+
+The tea was soon brought in, and we all sat down to it with a good
+appetite, for it was now past seven o'clock, and we had not tasted
+anything but a little porter since we dined, which was between twelve
+and one o'clock. After tea Mr. Sharpley went out. His wife very
+expeditiously cut out my dress, and gave me the skirt to make, while she
+sat down to make the body and sleeves. I had been used to do a great
+deal of sewing, and was not slow at my needle; but I think I never in my
+life had worked so fast as I did that evening; and, as for Mrs.
+Sharpley, she worked so quick that her hand seemed absolutely to fly to
+and from the work. She said very little to me, except occasionally a few
+words of commendation, such as:
+
+'That is a good girl! I see you will do very well. If you are diligent
+you shall have no cause to repent having come with us.'
+
+Thus encouraged, I worked with unabated diligence till about ten
+o'clock, when Mr. Sharpley returned, and soon after our supper,
+consisting of mutton-chops and potatoes, was brought up. After supper
+Mrs. Sharpley and I returned to our work, and Mr. Sharpley read aloud
+from a newspaper. Thus passed the time, till a few minutes after twelve,
+when my dress was finished, excepting a little trimming of ribbon, which
+Mrs. Sharpley said might be put on another night. It was tried on,
+fitted me extremely well, and Mr. Sharpley said that if I was properly
+dressed I might pass, not only for an Earl's daughter, but a Duke's
+daughter.
+
+'But, Lady Anne,' said he very seriously, 'I would advise you to put all
+these fine thoughts out of your head, for, though I will not call your
+mother an impostor, as the people of E---- did, yet I must say that, if
+she had been an Earl's lady, she would hardly have been travelling in a
+post-chaise without an attendant. It seems to me that, whatever your
+father was, he had left your mother, and that she was returning to her
+own friends to live with them, when she was taken ill at E----and died.
+If this is the case, which appears to me most likely, your father, if he
+was to see you, would not own you, nor give himself the least trouble
+about you; so I wish you to put all high thoughts out of your head, give
+your mind entirely to our business, and we will reward you according to
+your diligence.'
+
+These words brought tears into my eyes, for, though in my own mind I
+feared I should never find my father, yet to hear another person say
+that I should not seemed to make it so certain that my heart appeared to
+die at the thought; and then, again, to hear it said that my father had
+deserted us--that if he was to see me he would not own me--oh! could
+that be possible? Yet how was it that I was really left a wanderer in
+the wide world? That I knew not, but the certainty that I was so made me
+weep bitterly. Calming my agitation as much as I was able, I promised to
+be diligent in their business, and to obey them in everything that I
+could. They both laughed, and said I was terribly afraid they should
+want me to steal. Mrs. Sharpley then showed me to a bed in a closet
+adjoining their room, and the oblivion of sleep soon made me forget all
+that had passed the preceding day.
+
+The next morning we breakfasted early, and then left the inn. In going
+through the town Mrs. Sharpley went into a shop, where she bought me a
+very pretty straw hat trimmed with blue ribbons. My dress was now
+completely different to what it had been the day before, I now having a
+new hat, new dress, and a pretty silk handkerchief pinned over my
+shoulders. The purchase being made, my old bonnet was thrown down in the
+street, for the benefit of whoever chose to pick it up. We then
+proceeded on our way, and soon left the town. This day was passed nearly
+as the former one had been, some people buying, and others not even
+looking at the goods. In the evening when we arrived at our inn, Mr.
+Sharpley went out while the tea was being prepared, and returned in
+little more than half an hour. We then had tea, after which he went out
+again. Mrs. Sharpley then employed herself in making caps and frills to
+sell, and I passed the evening in putting the trimming on to my dress. I
+now began to feel more reconciled to my new mode of life. Mr. and Mrs.
+Sharpley were good-natured, and certainly treated me with kindness, and
+I thought, if they did not want me to steal, I might be very comfortable
+with them. The week passed away. Saturday night came, and they gave me
+sixpence, telling me they should give me as much every week, so long as
+I continued to behave well. Weeks thus passed on. Our days were employed
+in walking from place to place, endeavouring to sell the goods, and our
+evenings in making up caps, frills, etc., for sale, and I soon became so
+expert in making them that they increased my weekly money from sixpence
+to a shilling. This money was in reality but of very little use to
+myself, for, as I had everything provided for me, I did not want it on
+my own account; but, then, it was a source of very great pleasure to
+me, as it enabled me to relieve the distress of many poor objects that
+I met upon the road, whose pale faces told, without their speaking it,
+that they were in want of bread.
+
+Mr. Sharpley did not go out every evening, but would sometimes spend it
+with us, and then he would read either the daily paper or some
+entertaining book, and when we had a good stock of caps and frills made
+up they would allow me to read books for my own amusement. Of these, as
+they sold them, they had a great variety, and thus circumstanced my life
+passed very pleasantly. Of _stealing_ I never heard a word, and I began
+to think they had only talked of it to frighten me, but the time now
+came when I was to be undeceived. One evening when we arrived at our
+inn, before we sat down to tea, Mr. Sharpley took six silver teaspoons
+and a pair of sugar-tongs out of his pocket, and, laying them on the
+table, asked me what I thought he had given for them. As I did not know
+the value of such things it was impossible for me to guess, and after
+some time he said:
+
+'Why, then, to tell you the truth, I--stole them.'
+
+'Stole them!' I exclaimed with horror. 'How could you do so? Who did you
+steal them from?'
+
+'I _took_ them, for we do not generally say _stole_, from the farmer's
+wife who bought the stuff gowns and two caps of us this afternoon.'
+
+I was so shocked at the ingratitude and baseness of the action that I
+burst into tears.
+
+'You are a silly girl to cry, Lady Anne,' said he. 'These are by no
+means the first things I have taken since you have been out with us, for
+of an evening when I go out it is generally to some friend of mine, who
+takes this kind of goods off my hands, and gives me money instead of
+them. When once they are gone I am in no danger, for if I was to be
+taken up, and my pack searched, nothing could be found, so I should be
+set at liberty again.'
+
+'But,' said I, 'suppose you were to be taken up before you had parted
+with them, and they were to be found in your possession, what would be
+done to you then?'
+
+'I should most likely be hung,' replied he very calmly.
+
+'Be hung!' I exclaimed. 'But why do you do it? Do you not get enough
+money to live upon from the things you sell? You know it is a very
+wicked thing to steal. You know the Commandment says "Thou shalt not
+steal."'
+
+'Very true, Lady Anne,' said he, laughing. 'It would be a good thing for
+the world if we were all as innocent and as well disposed as you are. I
+will not argue the subject any further with you now, but I wish, by
+degrees, to bring you into our business, and when you will take things
+as well as us, you shall have half for yourself.'
+
+'Well, sir,' I replied, 'I would sooner be as poor and as miserable as I
+was at Mr. Smith's than I would be a thief.'
+
+No more was at that time said on the subject, but Mr. Sharpley no longer
+made a secret of his evil practices, and I was sorry to observe that
+scarcely a day passed without his taking something from the people who
+bought of him. His wife, I do believe, if she had not been influenced by
+him, would have been very honest; indeed, I never knew her to take
+anything herself, and sometimes, when he laid his plunder before her,
+she would say:
+
+'Ah, James, I am afraid these tricks of yours will one day bring you to
+the gallows.'
+
+Several more weeks thus passed away, and I have no cause of complaint
+against them, except their taking other peoples' property, for they were
+good-natured, paid very honestly for everything they had at the inns,
+and often gave money to poor people they met on the roads.
+
+Often of an evening Mr. Sharpley would amuse himself with what he called
+a mock trial--that is, he would make believe he had been taken up for
+theft, and I was to be examined before a judge to see if I had assisted
+him or knew anything about it; then he sat as judge, and I was always to
+deny having any knowledge of the theft, and when I did not answer right
+Mrs. Sharpley said what I was to say. I always disliked these trials,
+and could never go through them without tears, for I was always afraid
+they would one day be a reality.
+
+The winter months passed away, and spring again returned. One day, in
+the month of April, as we were entering a large town, we were met by
+such a vast crowd of people that we were obliged to stand up against the
+houses to be out of the way while it passed. On Mr. Sharpley inquiring
+what was the matter, he was told it was a man going to be hung for
+privately stealing in a dwelling-house. My heart seemed to die within me
+when I heard the answer, for I thought that it would very likely one day
+be our own case. When we reached the inn where we were to dine, throwing
+myself into a chair I covered my face with a handkerchief and wept most
+bitterly.
+
+'What is the matter?' said Mr. Sharpley. 'Are you ill?'
+
+'No,' I replied; 'but that poor man was going to be hung. Oh, Mr.
+Sharpley, we may some day be taken up and be hung too. I do wish that
+you would be honest. Do not give me any more money, but keep it instead
+of stealing, and I have ten shillings that I will give you back again.'
+
+'Indeed, James,' said his wife, 'I wish you would leave off _taking_.
+When you read of trials and executions in the newspapers, and when we
+met that poor man to-day you don't know how I felt. I am very much
+afraid, as well as Lady Anne, that we shall come to an untimely end.'
+
+'You and Lady Anne are enough to drive a man mad,' replied her husband;
+'but, however, I will make this bargain with you both. Whenever it
+happens that I am taken up for theft, and am brought to within an inch
+of my life, so that there seems no chance of escaping, then, if any
+unforeseen circumstance arises and delivers me from the danger, then, I
+give you my word, I swear to you, that from that day forward I will be
+an honest man, and content myself with the profits of my trade.'
+
+'Then the sooner it happens the better,' said his wife, 'for I am sick
+of the life of jeopardy we lead.'
+
+One would have thought that from the dreadful example that passed before
+his eyes, and from what his wife said to him, that Mr. Sharpley would in
+some degree have left off his bad practices; but he did quite the
+contrary, and took more and more. Sometimes, after committing these
+thefts, we were obliged instead of keeping along the road to cross the
+fields and go for miles out of our way, and at night to sleep in
+outhouses or barns, that we might not be seen before Mr. Sharpley had
+come to some place where he could part with his stolen goods. On these
+occasions I was truly miserable, and I determined, in my own mind, that
+whenever we should travel near to London I would contrive to leave them,
+and go to Mrs. Williams, who, I doubted not, would get me some
+employment to enable me to live in an honest manner.
+
+Things went on in this way till the beginning of June, when one day, as
+we were passing a very fine park, we stopped to admire it. A broad
+avenue planted on each side with trees led up to the house, which was
+large and handsome.
+
+'We will go in there,' said Mr. Sharpley; 'perhaps we may have the good
+fortune to sell something.' He opened the gate, we entered, and walked
+up the avenue to the house. As we passed one of the parlour windows he
+peeped in, and said in a low voice:
+
+'There is nobody there, the cloth is spread for dinner, and there is a
+rare lot of plate.'
+
+With an aching heart I followed him up the steps to the hall-door; there
+he saw a woman servant, whom he began to persuade to look at some of his
+goods. She said she would call the lady's maid, who she thought would
+show some of the muslins and laces to the ladies upstairs. She then went
+away, using the precaution of locking the dining-parlour door, and
+taking the key with her. She soon returned with the lady's maid, the
+pack and our boxes were opened, the women picked out what they chose,
+and after inquiring the prices took them upstairs.
+
+'That is a clever girl,' said Mr. Sharpley; 'she has locked the door,
+but I rather think she has left the window open. I'll just take a peep.'
+
+He went out upon the lawn, and returned in less than five minutes,
+smiling and muttering to his wife:
+
+'The sooner those girls come down the better. We must not quit the park
+till they do come, for we might be seen from the upper windows, and they
+would send after and stop us.'
+
+I trembled so when I heard this speech that I could hardly stand, and I
+determined to leave them the very first opportunity that I could find.
+In about ten minutes they came down, and brought the money for what
+things the ladies had chosen. They then made several purchases for
+themselves, which Mr. Sharpley let them have at their own price. Our
+goods were then expeditiously packed up, and we left the park. We had no
+sooner reached the road than he told us we must cross over and go into
+the field on the opposite side, where we must keep along under the
+screen of the hedge till we came to some place where we could cross over
+to a further distance. We followed his directions, and, when on the
+other side, we were obliged, each of us, to tie a coloured handkerchief
+over our bonnets, which a little altered their appearance. Mr. Sharpley
+put on a waggoner's frock which he always carried in his pack, and thus
+disguised we proceeded forward.
+
+'We must go to a barn that I know of near N----,' said Mr. Sharpley. 'It
+is about seven miles off; so, Lady Anne, you must walk stoutly; there we
+shall sleep. We must be up again by four in the morning, and go on to
+A----; that is only five miles further, and will be a nice little walk
+before breakfast. There I know a man who will take my silver goods off
+my hands, and then we shall be all safe again.'
+
+I followed in silence, for talking to him I knew was of no use, and I
+was so disgusted at the life I was compelled to lead that I determined
+to escape as soon as I possibly could. About nine in the evening we
+reached the field where the barn was situated, where we were to sleep,
+but it being summer-time, and many people about, we sat ourselves down
+in a retired corner of the field to wait till night was farther
+advanced, and the country people retired to rest. There we had our
+supper, consisting of cold victuals and a glass of ale apiece, for Mr.
+Sharpley always carried provisions with him in a wallet, in case of
+accidents, he said. Into this wallet he had crammed the plunder that he
+had taken from the gentleman's house. The shades of night every moment
+became darker, the dim figures of the countrymen, as they were returning
+to their homes, were seen less frequently, and the lights that gleamed
+from the cottage windows were by degrees all extinguished, but it was
+not until the clock of the neighbouring village had struck eleven that
+we dared to approach the barn, which we then did with cautious steps.
+Mr. Sharpley having found that the door was rather loose, pushed it so
+much aside as to admit us. We accordingly all entered; he replaced the
+board, and soon procured a light from a German matchbox that he always
+carried with him. He then emptied the wallet of the booty, which
+consisted of four large silver candlesticks, six table and six dessert
+spoons.
+
+'Now, Lady Anne,' said he, 'I must put these things into your box, for
+in case of a pursuit I and my pack will be the first they will seize and
+examine. You must, if possible, step on one side and throw these things
+away into a ditch or pond, or anywhere; for, if they are not found upon
+us, they will have some difficulty to prove me the thief.'
+
+I said very little, for I was determined this very night, when they
+should be asleep, that I would, if possible, make my escape from the
+barn and leave them for ever. Having arranged the things in my box, Mr.
+Sharpley locked it and returned the key to me, which I wore hung from my
+neck by a black ribbon.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[_Lady Anne then ran away, but only to be caught by a policeman._]
+
+
+Chapter IX
+
+I endeavoured to liberate myself from his grasp, and asked him who he
+was and what he wanted.
+
+'Pretty innocent!' said he. 'I suppose you really don't know.'
+
+'If you come from Mr. Sharpley,' said I, 'tell him I shall not live with
+him any longer. I mean to go to London.'
+
+'You will go with me first, my dear,' replied the man, 'and, as you will
+most likely see Mr. Sharpley this morning, you may tell him your message
+yourself; so come along.'
+
+'Where are you going to take me to?' said I, struggling to free myself
+from his hold.
+
+'I am going to take you to prison, where you will see your worthy
+friend, Mr. Sharpley. You will all be tried for your lives for the
+robbery you committed yesterday.'
+
+When I heard this, I no longer resisted, but walked on in silence,
+meditating on the wretched state to which we were all reduced by the
+dishonesty of Mr. Sharpley. When we entered the road I found, to my
+surprise, that I had in the gloom of the night retraced my steps, and
+was within a short distance of the house where the robbery had been
+committed.
+
+I was conducted into the town, which, in our hasty flight the day
+before, we had not dared to visit. I was then taken to the magistrate's
+house and locked up in a room with a stone floor, grated windows, and
+no furniture but a wooden bench. There I was left for nearly two hours,
+and had full leisure to think over my melancholy situation. It appeared
+to me most likely that we should all be condemned to die, and when I
+thought of my past life--how very little I had known but sorrow--when I
+reflected that I had no relations to be sorry for my death, I thought
+that, if it was not for the disgrace of dying as a thief, I should not
+wish to live, but be glad to die, that I might be free from all the
+troubles of this world.
+
+In the midst of these reflections the man who had awakened me in the
+field opened the door and told me to come, for I was now going to be
+tried for my life. I instantly arose. He took me by the arm and led me
+into a large room, where there were a great many people assembled. Some
+were standing, and others sitting on benches. At the upper end of a
+large table sat a gentleman with a very severe countenance.
+
+From the description often given me by Mr. Sharpley of a justice-room I
+instantly concluded that this was one, and that the gentleman I saw was
+the justice. By his side sat another gentleman and some ladies. I heard
+the people near me whisper that they were the persons who had been
+robbed, and that they were come to swear to the things. I did not look
+at them more than merely to see that three persons were there, for in
+one corner of the room stood Mr. Sharpley and his wife, guarded by two
+men; and on the floor near the table was placed the pack and our two
+boxes.
+
+'All is over with us,' thought I, as I was led up to the table, which I
+found was called being put to the bar. I was then ordered to take off my
+hat, which I did, and the justice asked me what was my name.
+
+'Lady Anne,' I replied.
+
+A general laugh circled round the room.
+
+'What is your surname?' demanded the justice, with great severity.
+
+'I do not know,' answered I.
+
+I must here observe that these very short answers were such as, in our
+mock trials, Mr. Sharpley had taught me to give, for he said I must
+never say more than was necessary to answer the question asked.
+
+'What is your father's name?' with increased severity demanded the
+justice.
+
+'I do not know.'
+
+'What is the name you yourself generally go by?'
+
+'Lady Anne.'
+
+'Well, Lady Anne, since that is the name you choose to be called, what
+are you to Mr. Sharpley?'
+
+'His servant.'
+
+'Do you know for what reason you are brought here?'
+
+'I cannot say.'
+
+'Astonishing calmness!' said the justice in a low tone to the gentleman
+beside him. Then again addressing me: 'Lady Anne, you are accused of
+robbing, in conjunction with your master, James Sharpley, the Earl of
+Malbourne of various articles of plate. What do you say to this charge?'
+
+'I did not take anything myself,' replied I, 'nor did I see my master
+take anything.'
+
+'It is melancholy to see one so young in years so old in vice,' observed
+the justice. 'Who generally carries that small box?'
+
+'I do.'
+
+'Did you carry it yesterday?'
+
+'I did.'
+
+'Where is the key of it?'
+
+I now with horror remembered that when I left the barn in the night I
+had forgot to take the key from my neck, and that it was still in my
+possession. With my eyes fixed on the ground, I remained silent. The
+question was angrily repeated.
+
+'I have it,' I falteringly answered.
+
+'Hand it over. We must see the contents of that box.'
+
+I attempted to obey, but the key had slipped so low into my bosom that
+it had somehow got fixed in the ribbon belonging to my father's picture,
+and I trembled so violently that I could not disentangle it without
+drawing the picture entirely out, and holding it in my hand while I
+disengaged the key. The keen eye of the justice instantly caught it.
+
+'What fine picture is that, set in gold and adorned with pearls?' said
+he. 'Hand it over, and let me look at it.'
+
+'It is my father's picture,' I replied; 'it is my own property, and I
+will not part with it to anybody.'
+
+'You must part with it to me,' said the justice. 'Hand it over
+immediately.'
+
+I slipped it within my stays and spread my hands over my bosom, while I
+replied:
+
+'It is my father's picture. It does not belong to anybody in the world
+but myself, and I will sooner die than part with it.'
+
+'Take it from her, Johnson,' said the justice.
+
+In vain I struggled. The man forced my hands from my bosom, and,
+catching hold of the ribbon, dragged the picture from me, and handed it
+to the justice. My misery was now complete--I could endure no more--and
+with a bitter scream I sunk to the ground in a swoon.
+
+How long my insensibility lasted I do not know; but when recollection
+returned I found myself supported in a chair by a woman who was a
+spectator, and Johnson, the officer, was sprinkling me with water. It
+was some minutes before I could speak or stand, but, as soon as I could,
+I arose and earnestly entreated to have the picture restored to me.
+
+'Keep your seat, Lady Anne,' said the justice. 'If the picture is yours,
+it certainly shall be returned to you; but try to recollect yourself,
+and give me some account how it came into your possession.'
+
+'It is my father's picture,' I replied. 'My mother always wore it; and
+when she died a gentleman--Mr. Sanders, the clergyman of the
+parish--took care of it for me, and when I was sent to London he let me
+have it myself, that I might, if I should ever meet with my father, be
+able to know him. That is all I know. Now, pray, sir, let me have the
+picture again, for it is the only comfort I have in the world, and if
+you take it from me I shall die.'
+
+'Do you not, then, child, know your father's name? Do you not know who
+he is?'
+
+'Oh, if I knew his name I should not be here; but I do not know his
+name, and I do not know who he is.'
+
+'Did you ever see him?'
+
+'Yes; but it is very long since. He went away when I was five years old,
+and I have never seen him since.'
+
+During these questions many heavy sighs had proceeded from some person
+near, but at my last answer that gentleman who was seated beside the
+justice rose up, and, coming round to me, took my hands, saying:
+
+'Look at me, my child, and tell me if you think you ever saw _me_
+before.'
+
+I did look at him; but, oh! how can I describe the astonishment and joy
+I felt when in his countenance I traced, though more advanced in life,
+the features of that portrait that had so long been my greatest
+comfort? I sunk down before him, and, clasping his knees, exclaimed:
+
+'Surely, surely, you are my father--you are my mother's dear Frederick!'
+
+Overpowered by my feelings, I again fainted. When I recovered, I found
+myself laid upon a sofa in a handsome apartment. One of the ladies whom
+I had seen in the justice-room was sprinkling me with water, another
+holding a vinaigrette to me, my father chafing my temples, and the
+justice standing near, looking on, not with the stern countenance he had
+before shown, but as if he really pitied me. I tried to rouse myself,
+and, as soon as I could speak, apologised to the ladies for the trouble
+I had given them.
+
+'Compose yourself, my dear,' said the elder of the two. 'To see you well
+is all we wish.'
+
+I was now able to sit upright. My father sat beside me, and, putting his
+arms around me, pressed me to his bosom. I leaned my head against him,
+and the tears rolled fast down my face; but they were no longer the
+chilling tears of sorrow I had long been used to shed, they were tears
+of joy and gladness at being restored to a kind father, to whom I had
+feared I was lost for ever. When he spoke, I seemed to recollect the
+tones of his voice; the scenes of my early childhood returned to my
+memory, and I asked him if he had not been used to call me his Annie and
+his little darling.
+
+'Yes, my dear,' he replied, 'that I certainly did, But tell me, my
+child, by what miracle your life was preserved from the perils of the
+sea, and what was the final fate of your unfortunate mother.'
+
+'My dear mother died at E----,' I replied; 'but I do not know what you
+mean by the perils of the sea, for I was never upon it that I know of
+in my life; and now, my dear father, tell me why you went away and left
+us, and has the Earl forgiven you yet?'
+
+'Ah! my child,' said my father, with a deep sigh, 'I see that we have
+each a tale to tell, but it must be deferred till your spirits are more
+composed. And now, Sir Robert,' turning to the justice, 'I can only
+apologise for the great trouble we have given you this morning.'
+
+'My dear lord,' replied the justice, whose name was Sir Robert Eldridge,
+'accept my warmest congratulations on the happy discovery of your
+daughter; and to you, Lady Anne, I beg leave to return the portrait of
+your father, which has fortunately been the means of your being restored
+to his protection.'
+
+A few more compliments having passed, we were departing, when Sir Robert
+said:
+
+'What is your lordship's pleasure respecting the Sharpleys? Shall I
+remand them to prison for another examination?'
+
+'My dear father,' said I, 'for my sake have pity on Mr. Sharpley and his
+wife, for indeed they have been very kind to me.'
+
+'If they have been so, my child,' replied my father, 'I shall certainly
+show them lenity, but I wish first to hear your story, and then I shall
+know how to proceed. So, Sir Robert, if you will please to detain these
+people till to-morrow, I shall esteem it a favour.'
+
+We then took our leave, and returned home in my father's carriage, and
+was soon conveyed to that house where the day before I had stood as a
+poor little pedlar, but which I now entered as the only child of the
+Earl of Malbourne.
+
+[Illustration: _Lady Anne finds her father.--Page 405._]
+
+We proceeded to the drawing-room, and my father then informed me that
+the lady who had shown me so much kindness was his sister, Lady Caroline
+Beaumont. The young lady, who appeared about thirteen, was my cousin,
+Miss Beaumont; and another young lady, who seemed about eleven, was also
+my cousin, Miss Ellen Beaumont.
+
+Refreshments were now brought, and my father and aunt, when they
+understood that I had been up the whole night, insisted that I should go
+to bed, and try to get a little rest before dinner, which I did, and in
+about two hours arose very much refreshed.
+
+In the course of the evening I gave my father and new-found relations a
+circumstantial detail of everything that had happened to me as far back
+as I could remember. When I gave the account of my mother's death at the
+inn they were affected even to tears.
+
+'Oh! how unfortunate was I to be out of England at that time,' said my
+father; 'and how cruel was my father by his resentment and ambition thus
+to occasion the death of the most amiable of women. But proceed, my
+child, with your melancholy story, and afterwards I will tell you mine,
+and explain circumstances of which you seem to have some recollection.'
+
+I accordingly went on, and finished my narrative, by which time it was
+so late, and I was so much exhausted, that my father said he would defer
+his narration till the following day.
+
+My aunt and cousins were extremely kind to me, and, when I retired to
+bed, I was furnished with night-clothes from Miss Beaumont's wardrobe.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[_On the next day the Sharpleys, on their promising never to steal
+again, were released, and later Sir Robert told Lady Anne the story of
+her life._]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'It is a painful story, my dear child,' said he; 'and I must spare your
+feelings by relating it as briefly as I can. Your mother was of a very
+good family, and, during the earlier part of her youth, her parents were
+in affluence.
+
+She was a boarder at the same school as my sister Caroline; and, by
+frequently going to see my sister, I became acquainted with Miss Norman,
+and was sincerely attached to her before I thought that I felt more for
+her than a common friendship. This, in some respects, was an unfortunate
+circumstance, for my father, who was then Earl of Malbourne, wished me
+to marry a lady of high birth and large fortune; but she was of such a
+disagreeable imperious temper that I could not endure the thought of
+passing my life with her.
+
+'When Miss Norman was a little turned of seventeen, her mother died, and
+she went home to live with her father. I still visited her in company
+with my sister, for I hoped that my father would, at some time, consent
+to my marrying her. About a year after this, her father engaged in some
+mercantile business that failed; he was also very much defrauded by his
+agents, so that, from being what might be called a rich man, he was
+suddenly reduced to poverty. This sad change in his affairs affected him
+so much that he fell ill. I was grieved to my heart to see him in such a
+state, and to see Miss Norman pining, as it were, to death.
+
+'I was certainly old enough to choose a wife for myself, for I was
+twenty-five, had a handsome estate, and was then major of a regiment. I
+had often told my father that I could never marry Lady Clara Froward,
+for that I was attached to another lady, and only wished for his consent
+to marry her. That, said my father, I never should have, for that he
+would never consent to my marrying anybody but Lady Clara Froward.
+
+'I had waited a long time in the hope that he would change his mind, but
+he did not; and, when I saw Mr. Norman and his daughter in such
+distress, I determined not to wait any longer, but offered my hand to
+your mother, and urged her father to consent to the marriage. It was a
+long time before he would agree to it; but, finding his health every day
+worse, he gave his consent, and we were married.
+
+'A few days afterwards I informed my father of our marriage, and
+entreated him to receive my amiable wife as his daughter. He wrote me
+word that I had married without his consent, he disowned me as his son,
+and would never receive either me or my wife.
+
+'This determination was the subject of regret to us all; but we lived in
+hopes that time would soften his resentment, and that in the end he
+would relent. About two months after our marriage Mr. Norman died; and,
+after the funeral, I and my wife removed to a house I had in Piccadilly,
+near the park. There we lived very happily for a length of time; my
+sister, who had been bridesmaid to your mother, frequently came to see
+us; there you were born, and my sister was one of your godmothers. The
+reason of your being called Lady Anne was entirely owing to a whim of
+your maid's, for at that time you had no right to the title of Lady; but
+she said you would soon have, and that she should call you so now, that
+she might be used to it; and, from her continually calling you so, it by
+degrees became a general custom, not only with our own family, but also
+with our visitors.
+
+'Time passed away very happily till you had just completed your fifth
+year, when I received orders to join my regiment, which was going upon
+foreign service. It is needless to say anything of the deep grief that
+your mother and I felt on this occasion. We parted, and I went abroad
+in the hope that I should return again in a few months.
+
+'Two or three letters passed between your mother and me after my
+departure, when they suddenly ceased on her side. Unable to account for
+this strange silence, I wrote to my sister, entreating her to write
+immediately, and inform me if anything had happened. I soon received her
+answer, which informed me that my father, taking advantage of my
+absence, had unfortunately thought proper to pay a visit to your mother,
+and reproach her in the most cruel manner for having married me. Your
+dear mother was so terrified that it made her very ill.'
+
+'Oh!' said I, interrupting my father, 'I remember it. The Earl was a
+tall, thin, old gentleman; and he was in such a passion that my dear
+mother fainted away on the ground, and a servant, I think her name was
+Sally, came and helped her up, and brought her to her recollection
+again.'
+
+'My dear child, you are quite right,' said my father, holding his
+handkerchief to his eyes; 'that unfortunate visit was the cause of all
+the misery that has since befallen us. Your mother, being fearful of
+receiving such another visit, soon after the Earl was gone, sent Sally
+out to take lodgings for her in a private street, to which she removed
+the same evening, attended only by Sally and another woman servant. She
+then wrote an account of all that had passed to my sister (who was
+married to Sir Henry Beaumont), and concluded her letter by saying that
+she should continue in privacy in those apartments till my return, as
+she dreaded a repetition of the Earl's visit if she remained in
+Piccadilly. A few days after she had been in these lodgings she saw the
+Earl pass by on the other side of the street, accidentally he has since
+assured me it was. The idea instantly seized her that he was searching
+for her, and, not knowing what might be the consequences should he
+discover her retreat, she determined to leave England and come over to
+Holland to me. She wrote a few lines to my sister, telling her of her
+fears and determination, and that she intended to take her passage in a
+packet from H----. That very day a post-chaise was sent for. She would
+not allow Sally to accompany her; but, taking you for her only
+companion, and a few clothes in a small trunk, she set out on her
+melancholy journey. No letter has since been received from her, and my
+sister had hoped and believed she was with me in Holland.
+
+'On the receipt of this distressing intelligence, I made every possible
+inquiry to ascertain the fate of my beloved wife and child; and, after
+some days, had the misery to hear that the hull of a packet had been
+found floating at sea keel upwards. Its name and port were legibly
+painted upon it, and on inquiry it was found that this very packet had
+left H---- two days after your mother's departure from London, and, none
+having sailed for some days before, no doubt could be entertained but
+that your mother and you had been lost at sea. What misery was mine! How
+often did I wish that I had been with you, and that we had all been
+buried in the same watery grave! When the campaign was ended I returned
+to England, and resigned my commission. My grief was so great that I
+believed I should have lost my senses had it not been for the kindness
+of my sister and Sir Henry, who obliged me almost by force to reside
+with them. My father, too late repenting of his cruelty, and shocked at
+the dreadful calamity it had occasioned, sought a reconciliation with
+his wretched son. I shall not dwell upon the particulars of the
+distressing interview that passed between us; we were reconciled, but my
+father could never forgive himself for the misery his ambition had
+occasioned. Our firm belief that your mother and you had been lost at
+sea prevented our making any inquiries by land, and we were too much
+absorbed by grief to read the newspapers, so that we never saw the
+advertisements that you say were inserted. Since that time, my dear
+child. I have passed a very unhappy life. I have several times been on
+the Continent on government business. When in England, I reside chiefly
+with my sister and brother-in-law. Your uncle, Sir Henry, is at present
+at Vienna, and, during the time of his absence, your aunt and two
+cousins are staying with me. These, my dear, are the principal
+circumstances of my life.
+
+'I will now say something of the events of yesterday. When my servants
+told me of the robbery committed by the pedlar there appeared to me so
+much ingratitude as well as roguery in the transaction, for the man had
+taken more than ten pounds in money for his goods, that I determined to
+let the law take its course with respect to him, and my servants were at
+the justice's to swear to the things; but the description the two women
+servants gave me of you interested your aunt and me very much in your
+favour, and we thought that if you were so young and innocent as they
+represented you to be it would be a deed of kindness to rescue you from
+the guardianship of such people, and it was for that purpose that we
+attended.
+
+'When you were led forward to the bar the great resemblance you bear to
+your mother instantly struck me, and when in tones so dear, and so
+familiar to my ear you said that your name was Lady Anne, my agitation
+was extreme, though still without thinking it possible that you could be
+my daughter, but when at last my own portrait was produced, and you
+declared it to be your father's, then I thought it possible that your
+life might have been preserved, and I whispered Sir Robert, for I was
+too much agitated to question you myself, to inquire particularly how it
+had come into your possession. To what a happy discovery did that
+examination lead. My child is restored to me, and I am happier than I
+ever expected to be again in this world.'
+
+My father tenderly embraced me at the conclusion of his narrative, so
+did my aunt and cousins, with many kind expressions of joy at my being
+restored to my family.
+
+'Your likeness to your mother is very great,' said my aunt. 'She was my
+chosen friend at school from the time she came to it, which was when she
+was twelve years old. In features, in voice, you are as like what she
+was at your age as if you were the same person.'
+
+In the course of the evening my father told me that in a few days, when
+I should have had a proper assortment of clothes made up for me, it was
+his intention to make a tour.
+
+'We will go to town,' said he, 'again, and pay a visit to all those
+people who have been your friends, and even those who have been
+otherwise. I intend to go to those cruel people in the Borough. A few
+words of proper admonition may be of service to them, and induce them to
+treat another poor child with more humanity. And to Mrs. Williams,
+honest Davis, and that good man Joseph we must show our gratitude by
+deeds as well as words.'
+
+About a week after this we went to town, and soon after paid a visit to
+Davis's cottage. We knocked at the door, which was opened by Mrs. Davis,
+who seemed surprised at so many fine people coming to her cottage, and
+asked, 'What was our pleasure?' My father told her that he was come to
+thank her for the kindness she had shown to a little friendless girl who
+went by the name of Lady Anne, and whom he had lately discovered to be
+his daughter. She looked astonished, but, fixing her eyes upon me,
+instantly recollected me, and burst into a flood of tears.
+
+'Do not cry, Mrs. Davis,' said I, for I was grieved at seeing her weep.
+'I do sincerely thank you, for you were very kind to me till just the
+last.'
+
+'Ah, Lady Anne,' said she, 'I have never been happy since I sent you
+away. My husband was dreadfully angry with me, and I don't believe he
+has forgiven me yet. He said that I had turned an orphan out of doors,
+and that it would bring ill luck upon our heads, and so it proved, for
+about a week after Mr. Freeman himself caught Susan as she was filling
+her pockets with plums, and discharged her instantly. Luckily Phoebe had
+none in her pocket, and Tom they knew to be an honest boy, so they two
+escaped, but we had a world of trouble with Susan, for, as she had lost
+her character, we could hardly get her a place at all, but at last a
+woman in the village who takes in washing agreed to take her. There she
+has a great deal of work to do for very little money, but she is
+determined to be honest, and to stay there for a year that she may
+recover her character, and then we hope that she will do better, but it
+grieves me to the heart to think that I encouraged her to bring the
+fruit home, for if I had scolded her for it at the first, she would have
+left it off, and might now have been at Mr. Freeman's.'
+
+'Well, my good woman,' said my father, 'you seem so sensible of your
+error, both with respect to encouraging your daughter in dishonesty, and
+your ill-treatment of mine at the last, that I shall say nothing further
+to you on the subject, but thank you for the kindness you did show to my
+child during the greater part of the time she was with you. Now I wish
+to see your husband. Is he here or gone to town?'
+
+'He is at the garden, sir, for Richard and the women quarrelled about
+the money that they took, and at last one of them told Mr. Freeman of
+the tricks they played, so Richard and some of the women were
+discharged, and the rest had such a lecturing that I don't believe there
+is now a creature in the garden would dare to take so much as a
+gooseberry from it, but my husband is there a good deal to look after
+them, for Mr. Freeman says he shall not trust them too far.'
+
+'Ah,' said my father, 'you see that honesty is still the best policy.
+Well, I wish you good-day, and hope you will continue in your good
+resolutions.'
+
+I shook hands with the poor woman, and we then proceeded to Mr.
+Freeman's gardens. The door being open we entered. Mr. Joseph soon
+appeared, and came up to us with a bow.
+
+'We would look at your greenhouses,' said my father. 'I wish to choose
+some plants.'
+
+Joseph looked at me with a doubting, curious look, but without uttering
+any observation, and led the way to the nearest greenhouse. We looked at
+the plants, and my cousins took occasion to address me by my title. At
+this Joseph again gazed very earnestly at me, and hesitatingly said:
+
+'I beg pardon, but this young lady is so like a child that used to be
+here last summer, and went by that name, that I could almost swear she
+was now before me.'
+
+'And so she is, my good man,' replied my father, 'and I am come to thank
+you for the kindness you showed to her.'
+
+'Well now,' said Joseph, 'this is the most joyful day that I have seen
+for this long time. To see the little drooping rose transplanted into
+its own garden was more than I ever expected, but I am glad to my heart
+that it has happened, and, Lady Anne, forgive the freedom of an old man
+when I say that I loved you as if you had been one of my own
+grandchildren, and had I known how uncomfortable you were at Davis's you
+should have been removed into the family of one of my own daughters, who
+lives near, and she would have treated you as one of her own children;
+but you see all things happen for the best, for by your being turned out
+of doors, as it were, you have discovered your father, and are much
+better off than ever we could make you.'
+
+We all very cordially shook hands with this honest good man, and my
+father compelled him to accept of a handsome present.
+
+Mr. Freeman was in town, so my father left his compliments and thanks to
+him for having given me employment, and ordered plants to the amount of
+twenty pounds to be sent to his house in Piccadilly. We went to a
+different part of the garden in quest of Davis and his son Tommy. We
+soon found them, and, on making myself known to the father, the poor man
+could not forbear shedding tears, and said he should be ashamed as long
+as he lived to think how I had been turned out of his cottage. My father
+begged him not to think of it any longer, for that we did not, and it
+was with difficulty that he prevailed on him to accept a present which
+Davis said he did not deserve, and that it was like a reproach to him.
+
+'Say no more, I beg of you,' said my father; 'my daughter can only think
+of the kindness you showed her, and we shall always remember it with
+gratitude.'
+
+Little Tommy, as soon as he felt convinced that I was the same Lady
+Anne that used to live in their cottage, took my hand, kissed it, and
+said he would make me a prettier box than I had ever seen, for that he
+made them much better now than when I lived with them. I gave the little
+fellow a guinea, and I gave his sister Phoebe five shillings, for though
+I did not entertain any resentment against her, yet I did not think it
+would be just to give her as much as her brother, who had always been
+kind to me, and was an honest boy. We then took leave of them, and
+returned to town.
+
+The next morning, after breakfast was over, my father ordered the
+carriage, and we drove to Covent Garden to pay a visit to Mrs. Williams
+and her family. When we arrived at the Garden I led the way to the shop,
+and found her and her two daughters busy in setting out the fruit and
+flowers. I asked her the price of some of them, and though she answered
+me as a stranger, yet I saw that she looked at me very earnestly, but
+her daughter Jane, having observed me, whispered to her mother:
+
+'I am sure that is the little girl that we took in who was in such
+distress; I am positive it was her.'
+
+Mrs. Williams again looked at me very intently. I smiled, and said:
+
+'Yes, Mrs. Williams, I am that poor child that you were so kind as to
+take in and feed and clothe.'
+
+'Bless your sweet face,' said she, 'and so you are; and have you found
+your friends, and is your father living?'
+
+'Yes, my good friend,' replied my father, 'I am that happy father, and
+can never be sufficiently grateful to you for befriending my poor child
+when she was almost dying of cold and hunger.'
+
+Mrs. Williams made many exclamations of joy and surprise at the happy
+change that had taken place in my situation. We all entered the shop,
+and, seating ourselves as well as we could, my father gave her a slight
+detail of the circumstances that had brought me to his knowledge. We
+stayed with her nearly an hour, and, before leaving the shop, my father
+obliged her to accept of bank-notes to the amount of a hundred pounds.
+We then returned to the carriage, and my father ordered the coachman to
+drive to D---- Street in the borough.
+
+'For,' said he, 'we will now go and make our acknowledgment to Mr. Smith
+and his wife, for I think it is as proper to reprove them for their
+barbarity as to reward those who have treated you with kindness.'
+
+When we arrived at the street I pointed out the house, but it was now in
+a different business. We entered the shop, and on inquiring for Smiths,
+were told that they had been gone away for some time, for that the
+husband had given himself up to drinking, and the wife to gambling till
+they were involved in debt to everybody that would trust them; and at
+last they had moved away in the night without paying anyone, and it was
+not known where they were gone to.'
+
+'It is very well,' said my father, 'these people by their bad management
+and ill conduct have brought a punishment upon themselves. I shall not
+seek for them any further. It is not my wish to reproach those who are
+fallen into distress, and that, I think, is likely to be their present
+state.'
+
+We then returned home, and my father informed us that it was his
+intention, in the course of two or three days, to take a longer journey,
+which would give us much pleasure and also much pain.
+
+'For,' said he, 'we will go to E----. I wish to visit Mr. Sanders and
+your good nurse, and to go to the grave of your dear mother. She must
+not lie there; I must have her removed and laid in our family vault at
+Malbourne. Though so cruelly separated from her during my life, yet one
+tomb shall contain us at our death.'
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+CONCLUSION.
+
+_Mr. Sanders was very happy to know that Lady Anne had found her father,
+and the Earl gave him a living worth two hundred pounds a year. He also
+provided for Nurse Jenkins and her children, and reprimanded the
+overseers of the workhouse, but made a present to the parish for the
+benefit of the poor children. Some time later the reformed Sharpleys
+called at Sir Robert's house, and being now honest pedlars, were
+liberally patronized._
+
+
+
+
+Captain Murderer
+
+
+Captain Murderer's mission was matrimony, and the gratification of a
+cannibal appetite with tender brides. On his marriage morning he always
+caused both sides of the way to church to be planted with curious
+flowers; and when his bride said, 'Dear Captain Murderer, I never saw
+flowers like these before; what are they called?' he answered, 'They are
+called garnish for house-lamb,' and laughed at his ferocious practical
+joke in a horrid manner, disquieting the minds of the noble bridal
+company with a very sharp show of teeth, then displayed for the first
+time. He made love in a coach-and-six, and married in a
+coach-and-twelve, and all his horses were milk-white horses with one red
+spot on the back, which he caused to be hidden by the harness; for the
+spot _would_ come there, though every horse was milk-white when Captain
+Murderer bought him. And the spot was young bride's blood. (To this
+terrific point I am indebted for my first personal experience of a
+shudder and cold beads on the forehead.) When Captain Murderer had made
+an end of feasting and revelry, and had dismissed the noble guests, and
+was alone with his wife on the day month after their marriage, it was
+his whimsical custom to produce a golden rolling-pin and a silver
+pie-board. Now, there was this special feature in the Captain's
+courtships, that he always asked if the young lady could make pie-crust,
+and if she couldn't by nature or education, she was taught. Well, when
+the bride saw Captain Murderer produce the golden rolling-pin and silver
+pie-board, she remembered this, and turned up her laced-silk sleeves to
+make a pie. The Captain brought out a silver pie-dish of immense
+capacity, and the Captain brought out flour and butter and eggs and all
+things needful, except the inside of the pie. Of materials for the
+staple of the pie itself the Captain brought out none. Then said the
+lovely bride: 'Dear Captain Murderer, what pie is this to be?' He
+replied: 'A meat pie.' Then said the lovely bride: 'Dear Captain
+Murderer, I see no meat.' The Captain humorously retorted: 'Look in the
+glass.' She looked in the glass, but still she saw no meat, and then the
+Captain roared with laughter, and suddenly frowning and drawing his
+sword, bade her roll out the crust. So she rolled out the crust,
+dropping large tears upon it all the time, because he was so cross, and
+when she had lined the dish with crust, and had cut the crust all ready
+to fit the top, the Captain called out: '_I_ see the meat in the glass!'
+And the bride looked up at the glass, just in time to see the Captain
+cutting her head off; and he chopped her in pieces, and peppered her,
+and salted her, and put her in the pie, and sent it to the baker's, and
+ate it all, and picked the bones.
+
+Captain Murderer went on in this way, prospering exceedingly, until he
+came to choose a bride from two twin sisters, and at first didn't know
+which to choose; for, though one was fair and the other dark, they were
+both equally beautiful. But the fair twin loved him, and the dark twin
+hated him, so he chose the fair one. The dark twin would have prevented
+the marriage if she could, but she couldn't. However, on the night
+before it, much suspecting Captain Murderer, she stole out and climbed
+his garden-wall, and looked in at his window through a chink in the
+shutter, and saw him having his teeth filed sharp. Next day she listened
+all day, and heard him make his joke about the house-lamb. And that day
+month he had the paste rolled out, and cut the fair twin's head off, and
+chopped her in pieces, and peppered her, and salted her, and put her in
+the pie, and sent it to the baker's, and ate it all, and picked the
+bones.
+
+Now, the dark twin had had her suspicions much increased by the filing
+of the Captain's teeth, and again by the house-lamb joke. Putting all
+things together when he gave out that her sister was dead, she divined
+the truth, and determined to be revenged. So she went up to Captain
+Murderer's house and knocked at the knocker and pulled at the bell, and
+when the Captain came to the door, said: 'Dear Captain Murderer, marry
+me next, for I always loved you, and was jealous of my sister.' The
+Captain took it as a compliment, and made a polite answer, and the
+marriage was quickly arranged. On the night before it the bride again
+climbed to his window, and again saw him having his teeth filed sharp.
+At this sight she laughed such a terrible laugh at the chink in the
+shutter that the Captain's blood curdled, and he said: 'I hope nothing
+has disagreed with me!' At that she laughed again--a still more terrible
+laugh--and the shutter was opened and search made, but she was nimbly
+gone, and there was no one. Next day they went to church in a
+coach-and-twelve and were married. And that day month she rolled the
+pie-crust out, and Captain Murderer cut her head off, and chopped her in
+pieces, and peppered her, and salted her, and put her in the pie, and
+sent it to the baker's, and ate it all, and picked the bones.
+
+But before she began to roll out the paste she had taken a deadly poison
+of a most awful character, distilled from toads' eyes and spiders'
+knees, and Captain Murderer had hardly picked her last bone when he
+began to swell, and to turn blue, and to be all over spots, and to
+scream. And he went on swelling and turning bluer, and being more all
+over spots and screaming, until he reached from floor to ceiling and
+from wall to wall; and then, at one o'clock in the morning, he blew up
+with a loud explosion. At the sound of it all the milk-white horses in
+the stables broke their halters and went mad, and then they galloped
+over everybody in Captain Murderer's house (beginning with the family
+blacksmith, who had filed his teeth) until the whole were dead, and then
+they galloped away.
+
+
+    PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN
+
+    WELLS GARDNER, DARTON AND CO., LTD., LONDON
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustrated by A. G. Walker
+
+A BOOK OF BALLAD STORIES
+
+
+Selected and Edited by MARY MACLEOD
+
+With Introduction by EDWARD DOWDEN
+
+[Illustration:
+
+    'Beyond it rose a castle fair
+      Y-built of marble stone;
+    The battlements were gilt with gold,
+      And glittered in the sun.--_p. 129._]
+
+[Illustration: 'She stoutly steered the stots about.'--_p. 110._]
+
+'_Miss Mary Macleod has succeeded admirably in keeping much of the
+spirit of the originals in her prose versions of the best of the old
+ballads._'
+
+    TRUTH.
+
+'_Should take a high place. In this work the famous ballads have been
+done into prose so skilfully, and have been so artistically illustrated,
+that it forms a volume to be highly prized._'--STANDARD.
+
+
+_Large crown 8vo. printed on superfine paper, cloth boards._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustrated by Gordon Browne
+
+FAIRY TALES FROM GRIMM
+
+
+With Introduction by
+
+S. BARING GOULD
+
+'_Of new editions of old favourites the palm must be given, we think, to
+this collection of Fairy Tales from Grimm.... We do not think a better
+edition has appeared._'
+
+    REVIEW OF REVIEWS.
+
+'_No more acceptable edition of some of Grimm's Stories has been
+published._'--STANDARD.
+
+'_Altogether delightful. The illustrations are full of charm and
+sympathy._'--SATURDAY REVIEW.
+
+'_A fairy book beyond reproach._'--GRAPHIC.
+
+'_Grimm is always delightful, but in his present new dress he is more
+delightful than ever. Mr. Gordon Browne charms us always with his dainty
+pictures._'--GUARDIAN.
+
+'_All the illustrations are simply inimitable._'--QUEEN.
+
+[Illustration: 'The Prince who was afraid of Nothing.'--_p. 216._]
+
+
+_Large crown 8vo. printed on superfine paper, cloth boards._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustrated by Gordon Browne
+
+[Illustration: Reduced facsimile of cover.]
+
+    FAIRY TALES FROM HANS ANDERSEN
+
+    Introduction By EDWARD CLODD
+
+Large Crown 8vo. printed on superfine paper, fancy cloth boards, gilt
+top 6s.; calf 10s. 6d.
+
+'_The illustrations leave nothing to be desired._'--STANDARD.
+
+'_This is really a seasonable for all Christmases._'--PUNCH.
+
+'_A delightful gift for children._'--TIMES OF INDIA.
+
+
+[Illustration: From 'The Ugly Duckling.' _p. 110._]
+
+
+WELLS GARDNER, DARTON, & CO., LTD., LONDON
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustrated by Gordon Browne
+
+
+STORIES FROM FROISSART
+
+By
+
+HENRY NEWBOLT,
+
+_Author of 'Admirals All.' &c._
+
+'_A really fine book, and effectively illustrated. Mr. Newbolt has done
+his work well, and Mr. Gordon Browne has illustrated the book
+delightfully._'--OUTLOOK.
+
+'_There never was a better story-book than Froissart._'--ATHENÆUM.
+
+
+[Illustration: 'The four knights view the English host.'--_p. 26._]
+
+
+Large crown 8vo. printed on superfine paper, cloth boards.
+
+
+WELLS GARDNER, DARTON, & CO., LTD., LONDON
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustrated by F. C. Papé
+
+
+CHILDREN OF THE DAWN
+
+OLD TALES OF GREECE
+
+By ELSIE FINNEMORE BUCKLEY
+
+
+With Introduction by ARTHUR SIDGWICK
+
+'_For a child whose eyes are just opening to beauty, and whose
+imagination is ready to be kindled by a spark from any torch, we can
+think of few more delightful or enduring gifts than this book, with its
+immortal themes and its graceful interpretation in our time and tongue.
+The illustrations by Mr. F. C. Papé deserve praise._'--MORNING LEADER.
+
+'_Told with rare good taste and judgment._'--DAILY TELEGRAPH.
+
+'_Cannot fail to instruct as well as interest not only children, but
+schoolboys and schoolgirls who have begun the study of the old Greek and
+Roman poets. To such students a knowledge of these stories is
+invaluable. In every respect the book is an excellent one._'--DUNDEE COURIER.
+
+[Illustration: 'Each night Hero lighted her torch.'--_p. 117._]
+
+_Large crown 8vo. printed on superfine paper, cloth boards._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustrated by Gordon Browne
+
+[Illustration: 'And your experience makes you sad?--_p. 152._]
+
+    THE SHAKESPEARE STORY BOOK
+
+    By MARY MACLEOD
+
+    With Introduction
+    By SIDNEY LEE
+
+'_Mr. Sidney Lee, a quite unimpeachable authority, strongly recommends
+this new volume, for which indeed Miss Mary Macleod's literary
+reputation will commend a favourable hearing. This new rendering has
+been very well done. Mr. Gordon Browne's illustrations add another charm
+to a very attractive book._'--SPECTATOR.
+
+'_Miss Mary Macleod has followed the plot more closely than Mary and
+Charles Lamb, and a charming book of stories is the result._'--TRUTH.
+
+[Illustration: 'Some have greatness thrust upon them.' _p._ xiv.]
+
+_Large crown 8vo. printed on superfine paper, cloth boards._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustrated by Hugh Thomson
+
+TALES OF THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS
+
+RETOLD FROM CHAUCER AND OTHER WRITERS
+
+By F. J. HARVEY DARTON
+
+With Introduction By Dr. F. J. FURNIVALL
+
+[Illustration: 'The cow ran, the calf ran, and even the very hogs
+trotted.'--_p. 122._]
+
+Large 8vo. printed on superfine paper, cloth boards gilt top, 7s. 6d.
+
+
+WELLS GARDNER, DARTON, & CO., LTD., LONDON
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Forgotten Tales of Long Ago, by E. V. Lucas
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FORGOTTEN TALES OF LONG AGO ***
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Forgotten Tales of Long Ago, by E. V. Lucas
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Forgotten Tales of Long Ago
+
+Author: E. V. Lucas
+
+Illustrator: F. D. Bedford
+
+Release Date: May 3, 2009 [EBook #28679]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FORGOTTEN TALES OF LONG AGO ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by D Alexander, Josephine Paolucci and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
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+
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+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 417px;">
+<img src="images/icover.jpg" width="417" height="600" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 395px;">
+<img src="images/i001.jpg" width="395" height="600" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 126px;">
+<img src="images/i002.jpg" width="126" height="125" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="center">
+<i>Fourth Impression, July, 1931.</i>
+<br />
+PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN<br />
+<br />
+WELLS GARDNER, DARTON AND CO., LTD.<br />
+</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 389px;">
+<img src="images/i003.jpg" width="389" height="600" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/i004.jpg" width="400" height="182" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>In the present volume will be found twenty stories from early writers
+for children, the period being roughly 1790 to 1830, with three later
+and more sophisticated efforts added. Having so recently made remarks on
+the character of these old books&mdash;in the preface last year to
+<i>Old-Fashioned Tales</i>, a companion volume to this&mdash;I have very little to
+say now, except that I hope the selection will be found to be
+interesting. If it is not, it is less my fault than that of the authors,
+who preferred teaching to entertaining, moral improvement to drama. The
+pendulum has now perhaps swung almost too far the other way; but such
+things come right.</p>
+
+<p>My first story, 'Dicky Random,' is from a little book published in 1805,
+entitled <i>The Satchel; or, Amusing Tales for Correcting Rising Errors in
+Early Youth, addressed to all who wish to grow in Grace and Favour</i>. On
+the title-page is this motto:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Put on the cap, if it will fit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wiser grow by wearing it.'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>There is no author's name. I do not consider the story of Dicky a very
+brilliant piece of work, but it has some pleasing incidents, not the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span>least of which is the irreproachable behaviour of the gentlemen at
+dinner. Dicky's father comes out as hardly less foolish than his son,
+which is not common in these books. To call a doctor Hardheart seems to
+me to have been a courageous thing. The sentence, 'The boy's father,
+though a labouring man, had a generous mind,' would help us to date the
+story, even without the evidence of the title-page. It is astonishing
+for how long the poor had to play a degraded part in minor English
+literature.</p>
+
+<p>In another story in the book, called 'Good Manners their own Reward,' I
+find this sentence, which contains an idea for a children's manual that
+certainly ought to be written, under the same title too: 'Master Goodly
+not long after this had the pleasure of seeing a small book printed and
+circulated among his juvenile acquaintance, called "The Way to be
+Invited a Second Time."'</p>
+
+<p>We pass next to a little work of pretty fancy, 'The Months,' which by
+its ingenuity I hope makes up for want of drama. I have included it on
+that ground, and also because if the descriptions were read aloud in
+irregular order to small children, it might be an agreeable means of
+encouraging thought and observation if the listeners were asked to put a
+name to each month. 'The Months' comes from a book published in 1814
+entitled <i>Tales from the Mountains</i>, the mountains being those dividing
+England from Wales. A story in the same volume which I nearly included
+has the promising style 'The Spotted Cow and the Pianoforte,' but its
+matter is not equal to its title. It is, indeed, a variation upon a very
+old theme, being the narrative of two girls of equal age who, coming
+into a little prosperity, at once gratify old desires: one, the
+exemplary one, wishing a useful cow, and the other, the frivolous one, a
+piano. The author, in the old remorseless way, contrasts their
+subsequent careers, nothing but happiness and worth falling to the
+sensible girl who chose the cow, and nothing but disaster dogging the
+steps of the foolish desirer of the musical instrument. I do not think
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span>this to be good working morality, since proficiency on the piano can
+also be a step towards a livelihood and independence, and even Madame
+Schumann, one supposes, had to make a start somehow. The name of the
+author is not known.</p>
+
+<p>Probably no story in this collection had more popularity in its day than
+'Jemima Placid,' of which I use only a portion. And I think it deserved
+it, for it is very pleasantly and sympathetically written, and a better
+understanding of home prevails than in so many of these old books.
+Jemima's brothers seem to me very well drawn, and certain minor touches
+lend an agreeable air of reality to the book. The author's name is, I
+believe, not known. His preface, which I quote here, is very sensible.
+Considering the date, say about 1785, it is curiously sensible and
+discerning:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'It has been often said that infancy is the happiest state of
+human life, as being exempted from those serious cares and that
+anxiety which must ever in some degree be an attendant on a
+more advanced age; but the author of the following little
+performance is of a different opinion, and has ever considered
+the troubles of children as a severe exercise to their patience
+when it is recollected that the vexations which they meet with
+are suited to the weakness of their understanding, and though
+trifling, perhaps, in themselves, acquire importance from their
+connection with the puerile inclinations and bounded views of
+an infant mind, where present gratification is the whole they
+can comprehend, and therefore suffer in proportion when their
+wishes are obstructed.</p>
+
+<p>'The main design of this publication is to prove from example
+that the pain of disappointment will be much increased by
+ill-temper, and that to yield to the force of necessity will be
+found wiser than vainly to oppose it. The contrast between the
+principal character with the peevishness of her cousins' temper
+is intended as an incitement to that placid disposition which
+will form the happiness of social life in every stage, and
+which, therefore, should not be thought beneath anyone's
+attention or undeserving of their cultivation.'</p></div>
+
+<p>'Jemima Placid' is one of the many stories in which the names are
+symbolical. We have another example in 'Dicky Random,' and, I suppose,
+in 'Captain Murderer' too, while in 'Prince Life,' to which we soon
+come, which is frankly an allegory, the habit is carried beyond Bunyan,
+who made<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span> his attributes very like men and called them Mr. or Lord to
+increase the illusion or diminish the cheat. The drawback to this kind
+of nomenclature is that it weakens the realism of the story. It also
+perplexes one a little when one thinks of later generations. Jemima's
+two brothers, for example, would marry one day, and their children would
+necessarily be called Placid too. But would they be placid? And was Mr.
+Piner's father a piner? It is even more perplexing when the name carries
+a calling as well, as in Farmer Wheatear, and Giles Joltem, the carter,
+and Mr. Coverup, the sexton, in the old story of <i>Dame Partlet's Farm</i>.
+Suppose Mr. Joltem's son had become a chauffeur, with rubber tyres? Or
+could he? If not, these names must have immensely have simplified the
+question 'What to do with our boys?'</p>
+
+<p>It is hardly necessary to say that the books which Jemima took back with
+her from London (on page 46), and which gave such pleasure, were all
+published by the same firm that issued her own history. This was a
+system of advertisement brought to perfection by Newbery of St. Paul's
+Churchyard. It is so very artless and amusing that one is sorry it has
+died out.</p>
+
+<p>For the 'Two Trials' I have gone to a little work entitled <i>Juvenile
+Trials for telling Fibs, robbing Orchards, and Other Offences</i>, 1816,
+from which, vi&acirc; <i>Evenings at Home</i>, I borrowed a story for <i>Old
+Fashioned Tales</i>. The book is anonymous. Surely such schoolboys and
+schoolgirls never were on sea or shore; but that does not matter. In the
+old books one did not look for reality.</p>
+
+<p>I have included 'Prince Life' for two reasons. Partly because it seems
+to me not bad of its kind, although far from being as good as 'Uncle
+David's Nonsensical Story' in the <i>Old-Fashioned Tales</i>, and partly
+because I thought it interesting to show what kind of stories historical
+novelists write for their own families&mdash;for 'Prince Life' was written in
+1855 for his little boy by G. P. R. James, the author of <i>The Smuggler</i>,
+<i>Richelieu</i>, <i>Darnley</i>, and scores of other romances.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span> Allegories, I
+must confess, are not much to my taste; but I have so frequently found
+that what I like others dislike, and what I dislike others like, that I
+include 'Prince Life' here quite confidently. It has given Mr. Bedford
+material for a good picture, anyway.</p>
+
+<p>'The Farmyard Journal,' which follows, is not dramatic, but it has
+plenty of incident, and is included here to foster the gift of
+observation. I found it in a favourite and very excellent and wise old
+book, <i>Evenings at Home</i>, by the strong-minded Aikins&mdash;a kind of work
+which it grieves one to think is outgrown not only by the readers of
+children's books, but by their writers too.</p>
+
+<p>'The Fruits of Disobedience,' which comes next, follows ordinary lines,
+and is chiefly remarkable for its busy clergy. I included it because the
+topic of kidnapping is one of which I think every collection of old
+stories for children should take notice. In every book of this nature at
+least one child's face must be stained with walnut juice. The story is
+from the anonymous <i>Tales of the Hermitage, written for the Instruction
+and Amusement of the Rising Generation</i>, 1778.</p>
+
+<p>'The Rose's Breakfast,' also anonymous, is one of the many imitations of
+Roscoe's <i>Butterfly's Ball</i>, about which the English reading public so
+strangely lost its head in 1808. I never considered this a good story,
+but now that I see it in its new type on the fair page of the present
+volume, I am amazed to think I ever marked it for inclusion at all. It
+seems to me poverty-stricken in fancy and very paltry in tone, the idea
+of making beautiful flowers as mean-spirited as trumpery men and women
+can be being wholly undesirable. It is too late to take it out,
+especially as Mr. Bedford has drawn a very charming picture for it, but
+I hope it will remain only as an object-lesson. Possibly its badness may
+incite someone to write a better, and that would be my justification.
+One interesting thing about it is the light it throws on the change of
+fashion in garden flowers.</p>
+
+<p>'The Three Cakes' is from an English translation of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</a></span> great Monsieur
+Berquin's <i>L'Ami des Enfants</i>&mdash;the most famous children's book in
+France. Armand Berquin, who, in addition to his own stories, translated
+<i>Sandford and Merton</i> into French, was born in 1750 and died in 1791.
+His <i>L'Ami des Enfants</i>, 1784, was in twelve small volumes, and it
+covered most of the ground that a moralist for the young could cover in
+those days. It is more like Priscilla Wakefield's <i>Juvenile Anecdotes</i>,
+to which we are coming, on a larger scale, than anything I can name; but
+no imitation, for M. Berquin came first. The idea of 'The Three Cakes'
+was borrowed from M. Berquin by the Taylors for their <i>Original Poems</i>,
+and Mary Howitt borrowed it too, also for rhyming purposes. French
+writers when they have tried seriously to interest children, have been
+very successful. I know of few better stories than that which in its
+English translation is called <i>Little Robinson of Paris</i>; but it is a
+long book in itself, and could not be condensed for our purposes. While
+on the subject of French stories I may refer to 'The Bunch of Cherries,'
+on page 242 of this volume, which is also French, and comes from a work
+called in the English translation <i>Tales to My Daughter</i>. I include it
+for its quaint <i>na&iuml;vet&eacute;</i>, and also for its lesson of gratitude and
+minute thoughtfulness. But it was a sad oversight (not too explicable in
+a French romance) not to make Augustus marry the Green Hat.</p>
+
+<p>I included 'Amendment,' from <i>The Little Prisoners; or, Passion and
+Patience</i>, 1828, because its idea is an attractive one. There is always
+something engaging, not by any means only to the youthful mind, in the
+idea of a complete change in the conditions and surroundings of one's
+life. That is why so many of us want to be gipsies. The book is
+anonymous.</p>
+
+<p>'Scourhill's Adventure' is from an amusing book called <i>The Academy</i>,
+which, for all I know, is the first real boy's school-book ever written.
+Its companion is <i>The Rector</i>, and together they describe, with no
+little spirit and reasonableness, a school a hundred years ago, with all
+the escapades and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[Pg xi]</a></span> errors of the boys and all the homilies of the
+schoolmaster. I like the episode of Scourhill as well as any because of
+the pleasant interior which it contains&mdash;Scourhill's home, with the
+noisy old gentlemen, a little like a scene in Marryat. The books are not
+worth reprinting, in the way that <i>Lady Anne</i> (to which we draw near) is
+worth reprinting; but they are worth looking at if they ever chance to
+fall one's way.</p>
+
+<p>We come next to 'The Journal' from <i>Juvenile Anecdotes founded on Facts;
+Collected for the Amusement of Children</i>, 1803, by Priscilla Wakefield.
+A hundred years ago Mrs. Wakefield's books for the nursery (which, if
+its literature is a guide, was in those days less of a nursery than a
+conventicle) were in every shop. She poured them forth&mdash;little rushing
+streams of didacticism. The present work, from which, for its
+quaintness, I have chosen 'The Journal,' is a kind of Ann and Jane
+Taylor in very obvious prose. Little girls having spent their
+half-crowns on themselves, at once meet members of the destitute class,
+and, having nothing to give them, are plunged into remorse; little boys
+creeping into the larder to steal jam, eat soft soap by mistake and
+never are greedy again; and so forth. All the conventional images and
+morals are employed. The whole book is one long and emphatic division of
+sheep from goats. 'The Journal' is not perhaps exciting, but it reflects
+the quieter family life of a century ago, and incidentally portrays the
+thorough governess of that day.</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla Wakefield was a Quaker, the great-granddaughter on her
+mother's side of Barclay of Ury, who wrote the <i>Apology</i>. She had a
+famous niece, Elizabeth Fry, and a famous grandson, Edward Gibbon
+Wakefield, the colonist. She was born in 1751 and died in 1832; wrote,
+as I have said, many instructive books for the young; and was one of the
+original promoters of savings banks for the people.</p>
+
+<p>'Ellen and George; or, The Game at Cricket' is from an old friend,
+<i>Tales for Ellen</i>, by Alicia Catherine Mant, from which I took, for <i>Old
+Fashioned Tales</i>, the very pretty history<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[Pg xii]</a></span> of 'The Little Blue Bag.' I
+do not consider 'Ellen and George' as good as the 'Little Blue Bag,' and
+I should not be surprised if I discovered on a severe analysis of motive
+that it was included here more for its cricket than its human interest.
+But it has a certain sweetness and naturalness too. Ellen's very
+sensible question (as it really was) on page 184, 'Then why don't you
+send the cat away?' is one of the first examples of independent&mdash;almost
+revolutionary&mdash;thought in a child recorded by a writer for children in
+the early days. To say such a thing to a mother eighty years ago was
+indeed a feat. For the most part children then were to accept all that
+was said to them by their elders as fact, and neither meditate nor utter
+criticism. The principal difference between the children of those days
+and the children of these is their present liberty of criticism. To-day
+every child has his own opinion; a hundred years ago none had.</p>
+
+<p>Some of the remarks on page 186 will divert the young readers of to-day,
+when girls know as much about cricket (and sometimes play as well) as
+boys do. I must confess to much perplexity as to what part could be
+played in the manufacture of wickets by George's hammer and nails. Runs
+were called notches at that time because the scorer cut notches on a
+stick. Wilson's good nature has, I fear, found its way more than once
+into the first-class game&mdash;at least, I remember that a full toss on the
+leg side went to Mr. W. G. Grace when he had made ninety-six towards his
+hundredth hundred; and quite right too. When it comes, however, to
+throwing down one's bat and flinging the ball at a batsman (as George
+did), there is no excuse to be offered. I have omitted the end of the
+story, in which Mr. Danvers condescends to take a hand at the game, in a
+match against George and Tom Fletcher (who made it up), and beats them
+by a narrow margin of notches. According to the author he had been in
+his youth a fine bat, but this statement has been cruelly discredited by
+the artist who illustrated the book, and who placed the gentleman in an
+attitude (or 'stance,' as they say now), and gave him a grip<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[Pg xiii]</a></span> on the
+handle, from which nothing but ridicule and disaster could result. Mr.
+Bedford is not like this. Mr. Bedford is one of those rare artists who
+read a story first.</p>
+
+<p>Of 'Waste Not, Want Not' it is unnecessary to speak. It is one of the
+best of the stories in Miss Edgeworth's <i>Parent's Assistant</i>, most
+entertaining of books with dull names. I have my doubts as to whether
+Benjamin was not too much encouraged above Hal, but that has nothing to
+do with the story.</p>
+
+<p>We come now to comedy and to farce. 'The Fugitive' I found in an odd
+little book by a Miss Pearson called <i>A Few Weeks at Clairmont Castle</i>,
+1828; while 'The Butcher's Tournament' is from Peter Parley. I read this
+story when I was quite a child, and it always remained in my memory, and
+for several years of late I have kept up a desultory search for it. I
+could not, therefore, having chanced upon it in <i>Peter Parley's Annual</i>
+for 1843, omit it from this volume. The author's name is not given, but
+I suppose that William Martin wrote it&mdash;under the influence of Douglas
+Jerrold, I should say.</p>
+
+<p>For 'Malleville's Night of Adventure' I have gone again to Jacob Abbott,
+from whom last year I took 'Embellishment.' The story is a chapter or
+two of <i>Beechnut</i>, best of the Franconia books. Later the author changed
+the name Malleville, which certainly is not beautiful, to Madeline; but
+I have left it here as in the original edition. There seems to be no
+middle way with Jacob Abbott: you must either think him the flattest of
+writers for children, or the most interesting. So many of my earliest
+recollections are bound up with Phonny and Beechnut that I shall always
+think of Jacob Abbott with enthusiasm. But the heretics in this matter I
+can understand, although pitying them too.</p>
+
+<p>For looking through the scores and scores&mdash;I might, I believe, say
+hundreds&mdash;of books from which to select the twenty stories within these
+covers, I should consider myself amply rewarded by the discovery of
+<i>Lady Anne</i>. This story&mdash;I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">[Pg xiv]</a></span> might almost say this novel&mdash;which is at
+once the longest and, to my mind, the best thing in the present volume,
+is anonymous. All that I know of the author is that she&mdash;I take it to be
+a woman's work&mdash;wrote also <i>The Blue Silk Hand-bag</i>, but of that book I
+have been able to catch no glimpse. In order to bring <i>Lady Anne</i> into
+this collection I have had here and there to condense a few pages, but I
+have touched nothing essential: the sweet little narrative is only
+shortened, never altered. <i>Lady Anne</i> was first published in 1823.</p>
+
+<p>With 'Captain Murderer,' which ends the book, we come to another story
+by a novelist, this time a man of genius, Charles Dickens. The agreeably
+gruesome trifle occurs in the essay in <i>The Uncommercial Traveller</i> on
+'Nurses' Stories,' and it was told to the little Dickens by a dreadful
+girl named Sarah, who chilled him also with the dark history of Chips,
+the ship's carpenter, and the rat of the Devil. The story of Chips is
+better than the story of Captain Murderer, but I do not care for the
+responsibility of laying it before you. The Captain may be held to be
+forbidding enough, but he is, all the same, well within the nursery's
+traditions of acceptable villainy, being only a variant upon Bluebeard
+and the giant who fed upon bread made with the bone-flour of Englishmen;
+whereas the story of Chips introduces infernal elements and makes rats
+too horrible to be thought about. So I feel; but if anyone complains of
+the grimness of the Captain I shall have, I fear, only a very poor
+defence.</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+E. V. L.
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xv" id="Page_xv">[Pg xv]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/i014.jpg" width="400" height="192" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>
+<span class="tocnum">PAGE</span><br />
+<br />
+Dicky Random; or, Good-Nature is nothing without Good Conduct; Anon.     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></span><br />
+<br />
+The Months; Anon.     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_15'>15</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Jemima Placid; or, The Advantage of Good-Nature; Anon.     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_23'>23</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Two Trials: I. Sally Delia; Anon.     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_48'>48</a></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">II. Harry Lenox; Anon. <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_58'>58</a></span></span><br />
+<br />
+Prince Life; by G. P. R. James     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_72'>72</a></span><br />
+<br />
+The Farm-Yard Journal; by the Aikins     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_90'>90</a></span><br />
+<br />
+The Fruits of Disobedience; or, The Kidnapped Child; Anon.     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_98'>98</a></span><br />
+<br />
+The Rose's Breakfast; Anon.     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_114'>114</a></span><br />
+<br />
+The Three Cakes; by Armand Berquin     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_128'>128</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Amendment; Anon.     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_136'>136</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Scourhill's Adventures; Anon.     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_162'>162</a></span><br />
+<br />
+The Journal; by Priscilla Wakefield     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_172'>172</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Ellen and George; or, The Game at Cricket; by A. C. Mant     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_181'>181</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Waste Not, Want Not; or, Two Strings to Your Bow; by Maria Edgeworth     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_204'>204</a></span><br />
+<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xvi" id="Page_xvi">[Pg xvi]</a></span>The Bunch of Cherries; Anon.     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_242'>242</a></span><br />
+<br />
+The Fugitive; by Miss Pearson                        <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_256'>256</a></span><br />
+<br />
+The Butcher's Tournament; by Peter Parley            <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_275'>275</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Malleville's Night of Adventure; by Jacob Abbott     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_297'>297</a></span><br />
+<br />
+The Life and Adventures of Lady Anne; Anon.          <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_320'>320</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Captain Murderer; by Charles Dickens                 <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_422'>422</a></span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xvii" id="Page_xvii">[Pg xvii]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/i016.jpg" width="400" height="194" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>
+<span class="tocnum">PAGE</span><br />
+<br />
+Off it went, knocked him backwards, and shivered a beautiful mirror     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_7'>7</a></span><br />
+<br />
+The lambs frisk about her     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_17'>17</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Ellen went a dozen times in the day to look at her new cap     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_37'>37</a></span><br />
+<br />
+'I was reading, and was interrupted by Henry Lenox and three others talking over a secret'     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_65'>65</a></span><br />
+<br />
+The Prince slays the monster with a hundred horrible heads     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_87'>87</a></span><br />
+<br />
+She kicked up her hind legs and threw down the milk-pail     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_91'>91</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Cut her beautiful hair close to her head     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_103'>103</a></span><br />
+<br />
+The sweet Misses Lilies of the Valley could not be tempted from their retreat     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_121'>121</a></span><br />
+<br />
+'I will play you all the pretty tunes that I know, if you will give me leave'     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_133'>133</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Had not the gardener, who then came up, taken him in his arms, and carried him into the house,<br /> in spite of his kicking and screaming     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_143'>143</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Every boy ... joined in the pursuit, and every cottage poured out its matrons and children and dogs     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_165'>165</a></span><br />
+<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xviii" id="Page_xviii">[Pg xviii]</a></span>George was despatched to desire one of the servants to bring a basket, in which we carried the poor sufferer     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_177'>177</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Hither Ellen accompanied him to see the wickets completed     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_187'>187</a></span><br />
+<br />
+'Oh, what an excellent motto!' exclaimed Ben                  <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_207'>207</a></span><br />
+<br />
+'The everlasting whipcord, I declare'                         <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_239'>239</a></span><br />
+<br />
+'The happiness of sharing with others that which we possess enhances the value of its enjoyment'    <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_245'>245</a></span><br />
+<br />
+'There he goes!'                                              <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_263'>263</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Knights in armour tumbled over their own steeds, donkeys ran snorting about, ladies shrieked   <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_293'>293</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Wherever the feather passed it changed the surface of the water into ice        <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_303'>303</a></span><br />
+<br />
+The arrival at the inn                                        <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_325'>325</a></span><br />
+<br />
+The Flight over London Bridge                                 <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_351'>351</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Lady Anne finds her father                                    <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_407'>407</a></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+<h2>Forgotten Tales of Long Ago</h2>
+
+<h2>Dicky Random</h2>
+
+<h4>or</h4>
+
+<h3>Good-nature is nothing without Good Conduct</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'In festive play this maxim prize&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be always merry&mdash;always <span class="smcap">wise</span>!'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<div  class="drop">
+<img src="images/i018dc.jpg" width="147" height="150" alt="D" class="cap" />
+
+<p class="cap_1">>'Do you know what hour it is when you see a clock?' said Mr. Random to
+his little son Richard.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>'Yes, father,' said Richard; 'for I can count it all round. When both
+hands are at the top of the clock, then I know it is time to leave
+school.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then go and see what time it is,' said his father.</p>
+
+<p>Away ran Richard, and brought back word in a moment that it was exactly
+six o'clock.</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes after came in a friend with a young lady, the former of
+whom asked Mr. Random why he was not ready to go with them to the
+concert that evening, as he had promised. Mr. Random replied that it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>
+was but six o'clock, which, however, he was soon convinced was a mistake
+of Richard's, who, on being asked what he saw when he looked on the
+clock, replied, 'I saw the two hands together close to the six, and that
+made me say it was six, for I always call it twelve when they are right
+opposite.'</p>
+
+<p>'Remember, my dear,' said his father, 'that the long hand never tells
+the hour, except on the stroke of twelve. You ought to know that the
+minute hand overtakes its fellow somewhat later every hour, till at noon
+and midnight they again start exactly even; and when a bigger boy I
+shall expect you to tell me how much difference is increased every time
+they come into conjunction. You now see, Dicky, that through such a
+mistake I must make my friends wait; pray, therefore, mind better
+another time.'</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes after his father bid him go into the dining-room, and
+bring down a bottle of wine, which stood in the <i>hither</i> corner of the
+cellaret, that he might help the gentleman and lady to a glass.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, father,' said little Dick, and up he went. On the stairs he met
+puss, and stopped to play with her, during which he forgot what had been
+told him. Having gotten a bottle, downstairs he came, and, pouring out a
+couple of glasses, he returned with it. But, when on the landing-place,
+he naughtily drew out the cork to have a taste himself. It was not only
+very vulgar to drink out of the neck of a bottle, but wrong to make free
+slily with that which he was merely entrusted to serve out. However, it
+rushed so fast into his mouth, and was so hot, that he was afraid of
+being strangled. It happened that he had bitten his cheek that morning,
+and the liquor bathing the sore place made it smart so that he put down
+the bottle on the floor, when, in stamping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> about, it rolled downstairs
+and made a fine clatter. His father ran out on hearing the noise, but
+was stopped in the way by seeing the young lady almost gasping for
+breath, and it was some minutes before she could say that he had given
+her brandy instead of wine.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Random next proceeded upstairs, where little Dick was picking up the
+pieces of broken glass, in doing which he cut a deep gash in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>'Where did you take the bottle from?'</p>
+
+<p>'Out of the <i>farther</i> side of the cellaret,' said Dicky.</p>
+
+<p>'I told you to take it from the <i>hither</i> side,' replied Mr. Random.
+'But, however, you shall smart for your neglect: what remains of the
+brandy will serve to bathe your hand, and I hope the pain will make you
+reflect that the loss is the same to me, whether you spilt it from
+design or inattention.'</p>
+
+<p>He one day made his mother look very simple at table, for which he
+deserved to have suffered much more than her good nature required. Young
+Random was to have a grand rout in the evening with some of his little
+favourites. A few nice tarts, custards, etc., had been made in the
+morning for the occasion, and had been most temptingly baked in the
+forenoon.</p>
+
+<p>It happened that two gentlemen called on Mr. Random about two o'clock,
+and he insisted upon their staying to dinner; in consequence of which
+his lady had the pastry removed from the sideboard to the china-closet.</p>
+
+<p>All children must frequently have heard their mothers say, when they
+wish to have anything saved for another occasion, 'My friends, you see
+your dinner before you; I hope you will consider yourselves at home and
+not spare.' This is always thought to be a sufficient excuse for not
+bringing anything of another sort to table.</p>
+
+<p>When the meat was nearly done with, Mrs. Random<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> made the above remark
+to her visitors, who declared that nothing more was requisite. She then
+bid the servant put the cheese on the table.</p>
+
+<p>'What, mother,' said Richard, 'is there nothing else?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, my love,' said his mother; 'I am sure you want nothing more.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, yes, mother. Where are the tarts and custards you put into the
+closet?'</p>
+
+<p>'Surely you dream?' said his mother.</p>
+
+<p>'No, I don't, indeed,' replied Dicky. 'You put them away directly the
+gentlemen said they would stay to dine, and observed what a deal of
+trouble visitors do give.'</p>
+
+<p>Anyone will easily believe that this made Mrs. Random look very
+confused. She hardly knew what to reply, but she turned it off in the
+best manner she could, and said:</p>
+
+<p>'It is you, Richard, who trouble me more than the visits of my friends.
+I am happy to see them always, but on some days more than others.
+To-day, you know, we have been preparing for <i>your</i> company, and
+therefore the reserve I have kept would not have been made but on your
+account. The pastry was intended for <i>your</i> visitors, and not your
+father's. However, if you are such a child that you cannot wait till
+night, they shall be brought to table now; but, remember, I will not
+order any more to be made, and you shall provide for your playmates out
+of the money put by to purchase the magic-lantern and the books.'</p>
+
+<p>Richard looked quite down when he heard this sentence, and more so when
+he saw the pastry placed on the table.</p>
+
+<p>Dear me, how soon had the tarts and custards disappeared, if one of each
+had been served round to the company! But the gentlemen were too polite
+even to taste them, and father and mother declined eating any.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>
+Richard's sister said she could very well wait till supper; hence they
+were all saved. But Dicky was afterwards very severely taken to task for
+speaking out of time, when he was not spoken to.</p>
+
+<p>When evening came, and the little visitors were assembled, Richard, who
+had seen some of the sports at a country fair, would show his dexterity
+to amuse his young party. He took up the poker, and, supposing it to be
+a pole, performed some imitations. But, unable long to preserve it
+upright from its weight, the sooty end fell on Master Snapper's book,
+who was reading a little work upon 'Affability.' The blow fairly knocked
+it out of his hand, and made a great smear on his frilled shirt, at
+which a loud laugh ensued. Now Master Snapper could not bear to be
+laughed at, and was so much out of humour all the evening that he would
+not play.</p>
+
+<p>Little Dick never once, all this time, thought that if it had fallen on
+his playfellow's toe, it might have lamed him, and he would at least
+have had to carry him a pick-a-back home; nor did he think who was to
+have paid the doctor; but, pleased with the mirth he had made, he went
+upstairs and fetched down one of the pistols which his father kept in a
+private drawer. Then, pulling in his rocking-horse, he fancied he was
+one of the Light Horse, and mounted it to show the sword exercise, and
+how he could shoot a Frenchman or a Turk at full gallop. He had no
+business with a rocking-horse or a pistol among young ladies, but he
+never thought if it were proper or not, and much less if the pistol were
+loaded.</p>
+
+<p>While he was going on a full canter, he gave the words, 'Present! fire!'
+and off it went, knocked him backwards, and shivered a beautiful mirror
+into a thousand pieces. Oh, what a sad scene of confusion ensued! Some
+of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> young ladies screamed out with fright. Miss Timid, knocked down
+by Dicky in falling backwards, lay on the ground bleeding at the nose.
+Some were employed in picking up the pieces of glass, or pinning their
+handkerchiefs over the fracture, to prevent its being seen while they
+stayed; but such a hope was vain.</p>
+
+<p>The noise brought Mr. and Mrs. Random and all the servants upstairs, who
+too soon found out the havoc that had been made, and demanded how it
+happened. All the children would willingly have screened Dicky, because
+they knew he had not done it to frighten, but to amuse them. Master
+Snapper, however, now thinking it was his turn, in a very ill-natured
+speech made the worst of the story. But the spiteful way in which he
+spoke did little Dick no harm, as he seemed more rejoiced at his
+misfortune than sorry for Mr. Random's loss; hence it had the effect not
+to increase the latter's anger.</p>
+
+<p>'Playing with balancing poles and pistols,' said Mr. Random in a stern
+accent to his son, 'is very well in a proper place, but quite
+inadmissible in a room full of company. Now, sir, what business had you
+to take this pistol out of my room?'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed, father,' said Dicky, crying, 'I did not know it was loaded.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is but last week,' continued his father, 'that you were told never
+to take such a thing without asking, and not even then till someone had
+tried if it were loaded. So many accidents have happened with firearms
+which have been supposed not to be loaded, that he who unguardedly
+shoots another ought to take a similar chance for his own life; for you
+know the Scripture says: "An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth."
+Think, Richard, that if I had been standing before the mirror, what
+would have been the consequence. You would have shot your father! Your
+mother would have died of grief, and you and Letitia have been
+orphans!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 410px;">
+<img src="images/i024.jpg" width="410" height="600" alt="Off it went, knocked him backwards, and shivered a
+beautiful mirror.&mdash;Page 5." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>Off it went, knocked him backwards, and shivered a
+beautiful mirror.&mdash;Page 5.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Ah, then I should have died too!' said Dicky, wiping the tears from his
+eyes with the back of his hand. 'But how came you to load the pistol
+last night, father?'</p>
+
+<p>'Because,' replied his father, 'I thought I heard something fall in the
+parlour, and the passage-door being directly after shut to in a still
+manner. I loaded the pistols, thinking that thieves had broken into the
+house, and pushed up the sash to shoot the first that came out.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then it was lucky,' said Richard, 'I did not come out again, or you
+might have killed me; for I got up in the night to let Juno out of the
+shed, where I had tied her up, and she was making a sad howling. Indeed,
+before I was aware, she ran into the parlour, and, as it was quite dark,
+I tumbled over her.'</p>
+
+<p>'And broke the geranium-tree,' added his father.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I did indeed,' said Dicky, 'but I did not go to do it. After that
+I turned Juno into the yard, and this I dare say is all the noise you
+heard.'</p>
+
+<p>'There is an old saying, my dear little friends,' said Mr. Random,
+'which I wish you to attend to, because it has a great deal of truth in
+it: "<i>The pitcher that goes often safe to the well may come home broken
+at last.</i>" And so, though the thoughtless and giddy may go on for a long
+while without danger, it will overtake them sooner or later. Here is a
+strong instance of escape from the consequences which might have
+attended Richard's thoughtlessness; besides which, his mother could get
+no more sleep all night, and I, after running the risk of catching cold
+in searching over the house, have this morning been at the expense of
+new fastenings to the doors and windows. The next time, however,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> you
+rise, Richard, to alarm the family, you shall in future roost with the
+hens or bed in the stable.'</p>
+
+<p>Dicky now thought that his parent's resentment had subsided, and, upon
+the latter's calling to him to come, he sprang across the room with the
+greatest alertness; but how suddenly was his smile cast down when Mr.
+Random, taking his hand, ordered him to wish his young friends much
+mirth and a good appetite, while he was going to be punished for his
+misconduct. At once were all their little hands put out to prevent Mr.
+Random's resolution of taking him away, but all their petitions were in
+vain. Richard was forced into an empty cellar, and left with no other
+companion than a glimmering rush-light. Here he was told he might do as
+much mischief as he pleased. The iron bars kept him from getting out on
+one side, and the door was padlocked on the other. In this dilemma he
+marched round and round, crying, with his little candle, and saw stuck
+on the walls the following lines:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'<i>Empty caves and commons wild</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Best befit a thoughtless child,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>A solid wall, an earthen floor,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Prison lights, a padlock'd door,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Where's no plaything which he may</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Turn to harm by random play,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>For in such sport too oft is found</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>A penny-toy will cost a pound.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Be wise and merry;&mdash;play, but think;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>For danger stands on folly's brink.</i>'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>After having been kept in confinement nearly half an hour, Mr. Random
+could no longer resist the pressing solicitations of his son's guests,
+who declined partaking of the supper till Richard was returned to them.</p>
+
+<p>Having learned the above lines by heart, he repeated<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> them to his young
+company, and, on his promising to remember their contents, he was
+permitted to sit down to table.</p>
+
+<p>The rest of the evening was spent in innocent cheerfulness, and for some
+time after little Random played with more caution.</p>
+
+<p>We must omit many of the less important neglects of young Random, such
+as letting the toast fall in handling it, shooting his arrow through the
+window, riding a long stick where it might throw persons down, leaving
+things in the way at dark, etc., and proceed to relate a good-natured
+fancy of his which tended, more than any of the preceding events, to
+show him the folly of taking any step without first looking to what it
+might lead.</p>
+
+<p>In Mr. Random's garden was a fine tall pear tree, and that year a very
+fine pear grew on the topmost twig. His mother and sister had several
+times wished for the luscious fruit, but it seemed to bid defiance to
+every attack that was not aided by a tall ladder. 'Oh!' thought Dicky,
+'if I can get it down and present it to my mother, how pleased she will
+be!' So, when he was alone, he picked out some large stones and threw at
+it, but without any success. The next day he renewed his attack in the
+evening, and to insure a better chance employed several large pieces of
+brick and tile.</p>
+
+<p>Now all these dangerous weapons went over into a poor man's garden,
+where his son and some other boys were weeding it. One of them fell upon
+the little fellow's leg, and cut it in so desperate a manner that he
+cried out, quite terrified at the blow and sight of the blood. The other
+boys directly took the alarm, and picking up some stones as large as
+that which had done the mischief, they mounted on a high bench, and
+discharged such a well-directed volley at the person of Master Random<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>
+that he was most violently struck upon the nose, and knocked backwards
+into a glass cucumber-frame.</p>
+
+<p>Here he lay in a most pitiable condition, calling upon his mother, while
+the wounded boy on the other side joined in the concert of woe.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, it served you rightly!' exclaimed the young assailants, who were
+looking over the wall, and ran away as soon as they saw Mr. Random come
+into the garden to inquire the cause of the uproar.</p>
+
+<p>His first concern was to carry Dicky indoors, and then, having wiped
+away the blood and tears, he asked him how it happened.</p>
+
+<p>'I was only trying to get a pear for my mother,' said Richard, 'when
+these boys threw stones at me, and hit me!'</p>
+
+<p>'That was very cruel,' said his father, 'to meddle with you when you
+were doing nothing to them, and if I can find them out they shall be
+punished for it.'</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Random immediately set off to the next house, but was met at his own
+door by the father of the wounded boy, who was coming with him in his
+arms to demand satisfaction. This brought the whole truth out, and the
+artful little fellow was found to have concealed a part of the real
+case. Instead of saying 'he was only getting a pear,' he should have
+said that he was throwing large stones at the topmost pear on the tree,
+and that every stone went over the wall, he could not tell where.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, Richard,' said his father, 'it is little better than story-telling
+to conceal a part of the truth. The affair now wears quite a new face.
+It was you that gave the first assault, and will have to answer for all
+the bad consequences. It is my duty to see that this unoffending boy is
+taken care of; but if his leg be so cut or bruised that he cannot get so
+good a living when he comes to be a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> man as he might otherwise have
+done, how would you like to make up the deficiency? You cannot doubt
+that he has a demand upon you equal to the damage you may have done to
+him. He is poor, and his father must send him to the hospital, but it
+would be unjust of me to suffer it. No, on the contrary, I shall prevent
+this by taking him home and sending you there, where Dr. Hardheart makes
+his patients smart before he cures them. Come, get ready to go, for
+delays in wounds of the head are not to be trifled with.'</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Random then ordered the servant to go for a coach, in which Dicky
+most certainly would have been sent off had not word been brought back
+that there was not a coach on the stand. During this time Dicky had
+fallen on his knees, entreating that he might remain at home, and
+offering promises to be less heedless in future; nay, he was willing to
+yield up all his toys to the maimed little gardener.</p>
+
+<p>The boy's father, though but a labouring man, had a generous mind; he
+wanted nothing of this kind, but only wished him to be more cautious in
+future, as the same stones, thrown at random, might have either blinded
+his son or fractured his skull, instead of merely hurting his leg. Mr.
+Random then insisted on Richard's giving him half-a-crown, and asking
+pardon for the misfortune occasioned by his carelessness.</p>
+
+<p>This heavy sum was directly taken out of the hoard which had been laid
+by for the purchase of a set of drawing instruments, but he had a yet
+heavier account to settle with his father for damaging the
+cucumber-frame. He had broken as much of it as would come to fifteen
+shillings to mend, and as payment was insisted on, or close confinement
+until the whole was settled, he was compelled to transfer to his father
+all his receipts for the ensuing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> five months before he could again
+resume his scheme of laying by an adequate sum to purchase the drawing
+utensils. Independently of which he always carried a strong memorial of
+his folly on his nose, which was so scarred that he endured many a joke,
+as it were, to keep alive in his memory the effect of his folly. Indeed,
+he never looked in the glass without seeing his reproach in his face,
+and thus at length learned never to play without first thinking if it
+were at a proper time and in a proper place.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p>
+<h2>The Months</h2>
+
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i031dc.jpg" width="153" height="150" alt="W" class="cap" />
+
+<p class="cap_2">Who is this, clad in russet-brown? His distant step sounds hollow on the
+frozen ground; no beam of beauty is on his face, but his look is
+healthy, and his step is firm. As he approaches the peasant bars his
+door and renews his fire. The sparkling home-brewed goes round and
+mantles in the foaming jug, the oft-repeated tale is told, the rain
+patters against the casement, but the night passes away, and the storm
+is no longer heard.</p></div>
+
+<p>Bright in his career the sun arises. Millions of gems seem suspended
+from the leafless branches. The familiar robin and the bolder sparrow
+seek the abode of man. Swift fly the balls of snow; the ruddy youth
+binds on his skates and gracefully flies over the frozen pool.</p>
+
+<p>Who is this stranger? He is the first-born of his family, and his name
+is <span class="smcap">January</span>.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>A grave and placid maiden now advances. The crocus and the snow-drop
+adorn her brown garments, a wreath of primroses binds her brows, the
+robin, perched on the leafless branch, welcomes her approach, and the
+lovely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> green of the young wheat is spread over the lately barren
+fields. The lambs frisk about her, they nibble the grass of the valley,
+then suddenly start and bound up the shelving mountain. But their infant
+coats are now wet with rain, and their sports are over. Shivering, they
+follow the shepherd with their bleating dams. And now, adorned with
+rustic lays and bleeding hearts, the swain sends to his favourite maid
+the mysterious valentine. The birds choose their mates; it is the season
+of connubial joys. Mild then be thy reign, gentle <span class="smcap">February</span>.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Who is this froward youth, with his loud and boisterous voice? He comes
+from the east; limping rheumatism and shivering ague are in his train;
+but his face is now dressed in smiles. The birds begin their lays, the
+lambs again frolic around. The daisy and the violet grow beneath his
+feet; he dresses himself with the buds of the spring. Vegetation
+displays her lovely green, and holds out the promise of future riches.
+Again the tempest of his passions arise; he tears the chaplet from his
+brows, and scatters it in the wind. Oh! hasten far away from us,
+variable and boisterous <span class="smcap">March</span>.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Clad in a robe of light green, and decorated with lilies of the valley,
+a lovely maid advances. She breathes on the opening flowers, and their
+beauty is expanded. The leaves of the grove burst forth, and the hedges
+exhibit their partial verdure. Nature, invigorated, smiles around her;
+but she weeps, and her flowerets bend, drooping, to the earth. Mild is
+her mien, and the tint of modesty is on her cheek. She smiles, whilst
+the tear still trembles in her eye, like placid resignation bending over
+the tomb of a departed friend. She is a pensive maiden, and her name is
+<span class="smcap">April</span>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 411px;">
+<img src="images/i033.jpg" width="411" height="600" alt="&#39;The lambs frisk about her.&#39;&mdash;Page 16." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>&#39;The lambs frisk about her.&#39;&mdash;Page 16.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Hark to the sound of rustic mirth, which precede a cheerful youth! His
+step is light and airy, his robe is of many colours, roses adorn his
+flowing ringlets, health and pleasure float on the freshening gale,
+exercise and mirth gambol before him, age forgets his troubles, quits
+his arm-chair, and welcomes his approach. The maids of the hamlet
+assemble and dance round the pole, decked with many a flower and many a
+streaming pendant. The village lovers loiter at the stile, or wander
+down the retired lane, where the hedges are covered with their white
+blossoms, and the modest wild rose, emblem of the blushing maid, peeps
+from the sheltering thorn. Season of love and delight! long may thy
+reign be protracted, young and beauteous <span class="smcap">May</span>!</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Who is the maid now approaching? She arises when the lark first pours
+his melody in air. Her dress is of a darker green, her head is adorned
+with full-blown flowers, her face is tanned by labour. The bleating and
+affrighted sheep are plunged, unwillingly, into the pool, and now by the
+sturdy hand stripped of their fleecy coats. The bottle quickly passes,
+the simple tale goes round, the ballad purchased at the fair is sung;
+the mower whets his scythe, and the grass and the wild-flowers fall
+before it; the waggon, heavily laden, removes the odoriferous hay; and
+the neat-mown fields display a brighter green. The cuckoo, with his
+never-varying note is heard; but let us, when the day is over, placed in
+some secluded nook, listen to the sweeter nightingale, who, as poets
+feign, was once a hapless female. Industry now toils through the
+lengthened day, and the name of this sun-burnt maiden is <span class="smcap">June</span>.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Who is the youth that now advances in his robe of gauze? He comes when
+the rosy morn first trembles in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> the east. Slow and languid is his step;
+he seeks the damp cavern and the impervious shade. It is the heat of
+noon, and the kine no longer low. Not a breeze stirs: the foliage of the
+groves, all&mdash;is still, except the insect world, who dimple the stream,
+or, buzzing round the head of the sleeping youth, rouses the panting dog
+that lies at his side.</p>
+
+<p>Now the terrified birds dart swiftly through the air; a solemn and
+portentous stillness reigns; the thunder mutters, the lightnings flash,
+and the pouring storm approaches; the traveller seeks the sheltering
+cottage. But when the sun again returns in his glory, the birds plume
+their dripping feathers; the gardener ties up his fallen roses, and
+trails anew the gadding woodbine. How sweetly refreshing is the air; we
+will wander over the breezy hill; we will pluck the summer fruits; and
+still welcome shalt thou be to us, sultry <span class="smcap">July</span>.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Who is she, who, with the first blush of Aurora, brushes the pearly dew
+from the grass? Her robe is thin and airy, and on her head is a garland
+of wheat-ears and poppies. How busy is the scene around her! The shining
+scythe cuts down the bearded barley and the quivering oat; the reaper
+bends over the golden wheat, and fills the plenteous sheaf.</p>
+
+<p>All are employed: even old age and childhood bend, with prying eyes, to
+glean the scattered ears. The master looks on his riches, and swells
+with satisfaction; the busy housewife loads the hospitable board, and
+hands the mantling ale around; age tells the tale of past times; and the
+loud laugh and rustic song burst from the lips of jocund youth. Oh! ever
+thus return to us, with plenty in thy train, mirth-inspiring <span class="smcap">August</span>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Who is the youth that, at early dawn, brushes the stubble with his feet?
+His gun is on his arm. His well-taught dogs are with him. The harmony of
+the groves is destroyed, and the feathered race fall before his cruel
+hand. The timid hare, starting at the sound of early feet, flies from
+the furzy brake, and she returns to her shelter no more. Content
+thyself, youth, with the various fruits which Nature now bestows. The
+golden apricot, the downy peach, and the blooming plum, peep from
+beneath their green foliage. Feast on these gifts, but spare the
+feathered race, sanguinary <span class="smcap">September</span>.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Who now comes, with the steady air of a matron? Her robe is of yellow,
+tinged with brown; and a wreath of berries encircles her head. She fills
+her barns; and the flail, with monotonous sound, is heard. Labour
+blesses her as he turns the earth with his plough, and scatters, with a
+seemingly careless hand, the seeds of future harvests. She shakes the
+clustering nuts from the trees, and gathers the rosy produce of the
+orchard, where the apple and the mellow pear yield their refreshing
+juice.</p>
+
+<p>The poet wanders through the silent grove; the mournful breeze wafts the
+withered leaves around him; the huntsman winds his horn; exercise bounds
+over the plain; the sportsman rejoices in the barren fields. Season that
+I love, ever welcome shalt thou be to me, mild and pensive <span class="smcap">October</span>.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>What terrific form is this? Sullen and haggard is his face; his ragged
+garments float in the blast; a wreath of yew binds his head; thick fogs
+arise around him; he tears from the groves the last leaves of autumn;
+disease attends his baneful steps; he drinks at the stagnant pool; he
+throws himself on the beetling rock;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> he courts the foaming billows; he
+listens to the last groans of the shipwrecked mariner; he wanders
+through the churchyard; he seeks the abode of the raven, and horror is
+in all his thoughts. Oh, hasten far away from us, gloomy <span class="smcap">November</span>.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Who is this clad in flannel and warm furs? He wraps his garments close
+about him; a wreath of holly binds his bald head; he seeks the warm
+hearth and the blazing fire; he expands his hands: they are thin and
+shrivelled with age. The snow fast descends; the sweeping blast howls
+over the dreary heath, and shakes the cottage of the aged man&mdash;he is the
+father of the year, and his name is <span class="smcap">December</span>.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p>
+<h2>Jemima Placid</h2>
+
+<h4>or</h4>
+
+<h3>The Advantage of Good Nature</h3>
+
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i038dc.jpg" width="154" height="150" alt="M" class="cap" />
+
+
+<p class="cap_2">Mr. Placid was a clergyman of distinguished merit, and had been for many
+years the vicar of Smiledale. The situation of the parsonage was truly
+beautiful, but the income of the living was not very considerable; so,
+as the old gentleman had two sons with the young Jemima to provide for,
+it was necessary to be rather frugal in his expenses. Mrs. Placid was
+remarkably handsome in her youth, but the beauty of her person was much
+impaired by a continued state of ill-health, which she supported with
+such a degree of cheerful fortitude as did honour to human nature. As
+she had had the advantage of a liberal education, and had been always
+accustomed to genteel company, her conversation was uncommonly
+agreeable; and her daughter derived from her instructions those engaging
+qualities which are the most valuable endowments a parent can bestow.
+The eldest son, whose name was Charles, was about three years, and
+William, the youngest, near a year and a half<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> older than his sister.
+Their dispositions were not in all respects so gentle as hers; yet, on
+the whole, they formed the most agreeable family.</p></div>
+
+<p>When Jemima was about six years old, her mother's health rendered it
+necessary that she should take a journey to Bristol; and it being out of
+her power to have Jemima with her, she left her with an aunt, whose name
+was Finer, and who had two daughters a few years older than their
+cousin. Miss Placid, who had never before been separated from her
+mother, was severely hurt at the thought of leaving home; but as she was
+told it was absolutely necessary, she restrained her tears, from fear of
+increasing the uneasiness which her mother experienced.</p>
+
+<p>At last the day arrived when her uncle (whom I before forgot to mention)
+and his wife came to dinner at Smiledale, with an intention of
+conducting Jemima back with them. She was in her father's study at the
+time they alighted, and could not help weeping at the idea of quitting
+her friends; and throwing her arms around her brother William's neck,
+silently sobbed forth that grief she wanted power to restrain. The poor
+boy, who loved his sister with great tenderness, was nearly as much
+agitated as herself, and could only, with affectionate kisses, every now
+and then exclaim:</p>
+
+<p>'Do not cry so, Jemima. Pray, do not! We shall soon meet again, my love.
+Pray, do not cry!'</p>
+
+<p>When she had relieved her little heart with this indulgence of her
+sorrow, she wiped her eyes, and walked slowly upstairs to have her frock
+put on.</p>
+
+<p>'So your aunt is come, miss?' said Peggy, as she put down the basin on
+the table to wash her hands.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Jemima was silent.</p>
+
+<p>'I am sorry we are going to lose you, my dear,' added she, as she wiped
+the towel over her forehead.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Peggy's hand held back her head, and at the same time supported her
+chin, so that her face was confined and exposed to observation. She
+wanted to hide her tears, but she could not; so at last, hastily
+covering herself with the maid's apron, and putting her two hands round
+her waist, she renewed the sorrow which she had so lately suppressed.</p>
+
+<p>Peggy was very fond of her young lady, as indeed was every servant in
+the house; but there was a good woman, who went in the family by the
+name of Nurse, for whom Jemima had a still greater attachment. She had
+attended Mrs. Placid before her marriage, had nursed all her children
+from their births, and Jemima was the darling of her heart. As she
+entered the room at this time, she took the weeping girl into her lap,
+and wept herself at the reflection that it was the first time in her
+life she had slept without her.</p>
+
+<p>'And so pray, my dear,' said she, 'take care of yourself; and when you
+go to bed, mind that they pin your night-cap close at the top, otherwise
+you will get cold; and do not forget to have your linen well aired; for
+otherwise it is very dangerous, love; and many a person, by such
+neglect, has caught a cold which has terminated in a fever. Sweet child!
+I do not like to trust it from me,' added she, hugging her still closer,
+and smothering her face in a check cotton handkerchief which she wore on
+her neck.</p>
+
+<p>Jemima promised an observance of her injunctions, and being now dressed,
+attended a summons from her mother, who was alone in her chamber, the
+company having left her to walk in the garden, whither she was unable to
+accompany them.</p>
+
+<p>'I see, my dear girl,' said she, holding out her hand as she sat in an
+easy-chair by the window&mdash;'I see that you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> are sorry to leave me; and,
+indeed, Jemima, I am much grieved that such a separation is necessary;
+but I hope I shall be better when I return, and I am sure you would wish
+me to be quite well. I hope, therefore, that you will be a good child
+while you stay with your uncle and aunt, and not give more trouble than
+you cannot avoid.'</p>
+
+<p>Miss Placid assured her mother of her obedience, and her firm resolution
+to mind all her admonitions. Mr. Finer returning at this period,
+interrupted any further discourse, only Mrs. Placid affectionately
+pressed her hand, and, after giving her a kiss, Jemima sat down on a
+little stool by her side.</p>
+
+<p>When the hour of her departure was nearly arrived, she retired into the
+garden to take leave of her brothers, and went round with them to all
+the different places she had been accustomed to play in. They visited
+together the poultry-yard, and Jemima fed her bantams before she left
+them, bidding them all adieu, and looking behind her for the last time
+as she shut the gate. They then walked round by some walnut-trees, where
+a seat had been put up for them to sit in the shade.</p>
+
+<p>'I wish you were not going,' said Charles; 'for I put this box and drove
+in these nails on purpose for you to hang up your doll's clothes, and
+now they will be of no farther use to us.'</p>
+
+<p>'I wish so too,' replied his sister; 'but I cannot help it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, do not cry,' added William; 'but come this way by the brewhouse,
+and bid my rabbits good-bye, and take this piece of lettuce in your hand
+to feed the old doe, and here is some parsley for the young ones. We
+shall have some more before you come back, and I will send you word if I
+can how many there be.'</p>
+
+<p>'And, Jemima,' said Charles, 'I wish I were going with you to London,
+for I should like to see it; it is such<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> a large place, a great deal
+bigger than any villages which we have seen, and they say, the houses
+stand close together for a great way, and there are no fields or trees,
+and the houses have no gardens to them. But then there is a great number
+of shops, and you might perhaps get a collar for Hector. Do pray try,
+Jemima, and buy him one, and have his name put upon it, and that he
+belongs to the Rev. Mr. Placid of Smiledale, for then, in case we should
+lose him, folk would know where to return him.'</p>
+
+<p>'And would it not be better to have a bell,' said William, 'as the sheep
+have? I like a bell very much; it would make such a nice noise about the
+house; and then we should always know where he was when we were reading,
+as my father will not let us look after him. What else do we want her to
+buy, Charles? Cannot you write a list?'</p>
+
+<p>'That will be the best way,' replied he, taking out his pencil, and,
+very ungracefully, to be sure, he put the point of it to his mouth two
+or three times before it would write. And then, having but a small scrap
+of paper, he despatched his brother, as the shortest way, to fetch a
+slate, and he would transcribe it afterwards with a pen and ink, for he
+had, in endeavouring to cut a new point to his pencil, broken it off so
+frequently that the lead was all wasted, and nothing remained except the
+wood. William soon returned with the slate under his arm. Charles took
+it from him, and then went to work to prepare a bill of necessary
+things, which his sister was to purchase in London. He leaned so hard,
+and scratched in such a manner as, had any grown people been of the
+party, would have set their teeth on edge (a sensation, I believe, with
+which children are unacquainted, for they never seem to notice it at
+all).<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'First then,' said he, 'I am to mention a collar for Hector, with his
+name and place of abode; and I should like very much to have some Indian
+glue to mend our playthings, such as father uses, and which we cannot
+get here, you know.'</p>
+
+<p>William assented, and Jemima was as attentive as if she had to remember
+all the things he was writing without the assistance of his list. They
+sat some time in silence to recollect the other necessary commissions
+when she reminded them that a new pencil would be a useful article, but
+Charles said his father would supply that want, and there was no need to
+spend his own money for things he could have without any expense, but if
+anyhow he could get a gun with a touch-hole he should be quite happy.</p>
+
+<p>'No, you would not,' returned William, 'for then, Charles, you would
+want gunpowder, which you never could have, and if you had, might never
+use it.'</p>
+
+<p>'To be sure, that is true. I have long wished for it; but, as you say, I
+will be contented without it, so do not concern yourself about that, and
+I need not set it down.'</p>
+
+<p>I shall not trouble you with the rest of the consultation on this
+important subject, but transcribe the list itself, which, with the
+account of the preceding conversation, I received from a young lady who
+frequently spent some months with Mrs. Placid, and to whose kindness I
+am indebted for many of the various incidents which compose this
+history.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p class="center"><span class="smcap">A List of Things Jemima is to bring from London.</span></p>
+
+<p><i>A collar for Hector; Indian glue; some little pictures to make
+a show; a pair of skates, as we shall like skating better than
+sliding; a large coach-whip for Charles, because John will not
+lend us his; and some little books which</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> <i>we can understand,
+and which mother told Mrs. West may be bought somewhere in
+London, but Jemima must inquire about it.</i></p></div>
+
+<p>Such were the orders which Miss Placid received from her brothers on her
+first journey to the Metropolis. They then attended her to bid adieu to
+her canary-bird, which she very tenderly committed to their care, and
+desired they would feed it every day, and give it water in her absence,
+and mind to turn the glass the right way, otherwise the poor thing might
+be starved. While she was taking her leave of little Dick, who hung in
+the hall by the window, her cat came purring to her and rubbed its head
+against her frock and pushed against her feet, then lay down on one
+side, and while Jemima stroked it with her hand, she licked her fingers,
+and at last jumped up into the window-seat to be still nearer to its
+mistress, who, taking it into her arms, particularly desired her
+brothers to give puss some of their milk every morning, and to save some
+bits of meat at dinner to carry to it. 'For, my pussy,' added she, 'I am
+quite sorry to leave you.'</p>
+
+<p>Another affair remained, which was to put away all her playthings; but
+this she had deferred so long that the carriage was ready before she had
+concluded, so with that, likewise, she was obliged to entrust her
+brothers. And, looking round her with a heavy heart upon every object
+she had been accustomed to, she quitted the room with regret, and after
+receiving the affectionate kisses of the whole family her father lifted
+her into the carriage, and, the tears running down her cheeks, she
+looked out of the window as long as the house was in sight and her
+brothers continued to stand at the gate, till the road to London turning
+into a contrary direction they could no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> longer see each other. She
+then, with a melancholy countenance, watched the fields and lanes she
+passed by, till at last, quite fatigued, she sat down, and soon after
+fell asleep.</p>
+
+<p>When they stopped at the inn where they intended to rest that night, she
+was so much fatigued, having been up very early, that she did not wake
+till she was nearly undressed, when, finding herself in a house where
+she had never before been, she looked about, but was too good to fret at
+such a circumstance, though she wished to be at home again. The next
+morning they renewed their journey, and in two days arrived at Mr.
+Piner's house about eight o'clock in the evening.</p>
+
+<p>Jemima, who had not seen her cousins since she was two years old, had
+entirely forgotten them, and, as they expected to find her as much a
+baby as at their last interview, they appeared like entire strangers to
+each other. They welcomed their father and mother, and looked at Miss
+Placid with silent amazement; both parties, indeed, said the civil
+things they were desired, such as 'How do you do, cousin?' rather in a
+low and drawling tone of voice; and Miss Sally, who was eight years old,
+turned her head on one side and hung on her father's arm, though he
+tried to shake her off, and desired her to welcome Miss Placid to
+London, and to say she was glad to see her, to inquire after her father,
+mother, and brothers, and, in short, to behave politely, and receive her
+in a becoming manner. To do this, however, Mr. Piner found was
+impossible, as his daughters were not at any time distinguished by the
+graces, and were always particularly awkward from their shyness at a
+first introduction.</p>
+
+<p>Our young traveller became by the next morning very sociable with her
+cousins, and complied with their customs with that cheerful obligingness
+which has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> always so much distinguished her character. She was much
+surprised at the bustle which she saw in the street, and the number of
+carriages so agreeably engaged her attention that it was with reluctance
+she quitted her seat on a red trunk by the window to enjoy the plays in
+which her cousins were solicitous to engage her. Mrs. Finer had been for
+some time engaged to dine with a lady of her acquaintance, where she
+could not conveniently take either of her children, and they both
+fretted and pined at the disappointment so as to render themselves
+uncomfortable and lose the pleasure of a holiday, which their mother had
+allowed them in consequence of their cousin's arrival. Miss Ellen, the
+eldest, was continually teasing to know the reason why she might not go,
+though she had repeatedly been told it was inconvenient; and Jemima
+beheld with astonishment two girls, so much older than herself, presume
+to argue with their mother about the propriety of her commands, when
+their duty should have been quiet submission. When her aunt was gone she
+took all the pains in her power to engage them to be good-humoured,
+presented them with their toys, and carried to them their dolls; but
+they sullenly replied to all her endeavours they did not want them, and
+told her not to plague them so, for they had seen them all a hundred
+times. At last Sally, taking up a little tin fireplace which belonged to
+her sister, Miss Ellen snatched it from her, and said she should not
+have it. Sally caught it back again, and they struggled for it with such
+passion as to be entirely careless of the mischief they might do each
+other.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Jemima, who had never disagreed with her brothers nor been witness
+to such a scene in her life, was terrified to see them engage with a
+degree of violence which threatened them with essential hurt. She
+endeavoured<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> to appease their fury, and ventured, after she had stood
+still for some time between two chairs, to try if, by catching hold of
+one of their hands, she could be able to part them, but they only gave
+her some blows, and said she had no business in their quarrel. She then
+retired to the farther part of the room, and ardently wished herself at
+home. When spying another fireplace under the table, she took it up with
+good-natured transport, and running to Miss Finer, told her there was
+one for her, which she hoped would put an end to the dispute. This,
+however, proved to be the property of Miss Sally, who declared, in her
+turn, that her sister should not touch any of her playthings; and
+finding she was not strong enough to retain it, she threw it with all
+her force to the other end of the room, and unfortunately hit Miss
+Placid a blow with one of the sharp corners, just above her temple. This
+at once put an end to the battle, for the blood immediately trickled
+down her cheek, and alarmed the two sisters, who, forgetting the subject
+of the debate, began to be uneasy at the effects of it; only Ellen, who
+considered herself as more innocent (merely because she had not been the
+immediate cause of the accident), with a recriminating air, said:</p>
+
+<p>'There, miss, you have done it now! You have killed your cousin, I
+believe!'</p>
+
+<p>Jemima, though in a great deal of pain, and much frightened, did not
+cry; as she seldom shed tears, unless from sensibility, or at parting
+with her friends. She held her handkerchief to the place, and became
+more alarmed in proportion as she saw it covered with blood, till at
+last, finding it was beyond their art to stop the effusion, Ellen, with
+trembling steps, went upstairs to tell the servant of their misfortune.
+Dinah, which was the maid's name, had been so often accustomed to find<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>
+her young ladies in mischief, that she did not descend in very good
+humour, and upon her entrance exclaimed that they were all the
+naughtiest girls in the world, without inquiring how the accident
+happened, or making any exception to the innocence of Jemima, who could
+only again most sincerely wish to be once more at Smiledale with her
+mother. Dinah, after washing her temple with vinegar, which made it
+smart very much (though she did not complain), told them they had been
+so naughty that they should not go to play any more, nor would she hear
+Miss Placid's justification, but crossly interrupted her by saying:</p>
+
+<p>'Hold your tongue, child! and do not want to get into mischief again;
+for my mistress will make a fine piece of work, I suppose, about what
+you have done already.'</p>
+
+<p>Jemima was too much awed by the ill-nature of her looks and the anger of
+her expressions to vindicate her conduct any further, but quietly
+sitting down, she comforted herself with the reflection that her
+displeasure was undeserved, and that to fret at what she could not avoid
+would not make her more happy, and therefore, with great good humour,
+took up a bit of paper which contained the rough drawing of a little
+horse which Charles had given her on the day of her departure, and which
+she had since carefully preserved.</p>
+
+<p>In justice to Mrs. Dinah I must here observe that she was not naturally
+ill-natured, but the Misses Piner were so frequently naughty as to give
+her a great deal of trouble, and tire out her patience; and their
+mother, by not taking the proper methods to subdue the errors of their
+dispositions, had made them so refractory that it soured her own temper,
+and occasioned her to blame her servants for the consequence of those
+faults which it was her duty to have prevented. So you see, my dear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>
+Eliza, from such instances, how mistaken is that indulgence which, by
+gratifying the humours of children, will make them impatient and
+vindictive, unhappy in themselves, and a trouble to everyone with whom
+they are connected. The amiable Jemima was always contented and
+good-humoured, even when she was not in a state agreeable to her wishes,
+and, by learning to submit to what she did not like, when it could not
+be altered, she obtained the love of everybody who knew her, and passed
+through life with less trouble than people usually experience; for, by
+making it a rule to comply with her situation, she always enjoyed the
+comforts it afforded, and suffered as little as possible from its
+inconvenience In the present case her cousins, by their ill-temper and
+fretfulness, had quarrelled with each other; and when Dinah would not
+let them play&mdash;as, indeed, they justly deserved to be punished&mdash;they did
+nothing but grumble and cry the whole day, and were so conscious of
+their bad behaviour as to be afraid of seeing their mother; while Miss
+Placid, serene in her own innocence, entertained herself for some time
+with looking at the horse above mentioned, and afterwards with pricking
+it, till Dinah set her at liberty, which, seeing her good temper, she
+soon did, and gave her besides some pretty pictures to look at and some
+fruit to eat, of all which her cousins were deprived. By the next
+morning Jemima's temple had turned black, and Mrs. Piner inquired how
+she had hurt herself. She coloured at the question with some confusion,
+not willing to inform her aunt of anything to Miss Sally's disadvantage,
+but, as she was too honest to say anything but the truth, she begged
+Mrs. Finer would not be angry if she informed her, which she, having
+promised, Jemima told her, adding that her cousin had no intention to
+hurt her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Piner kissed and commended Jemima very much, and Dinah having
+likewise given a high account of her goodness, she told her daughters
+she was much displeased with them, but in consequence of their cousin's
+intercession would not punish them that time, and desired them for the
+future to imitate her example.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as breakfast was over they were dismissed to school, while
+Jemima remained with her aunt, who, after having heard her read, gave
+her a handkerchief to hem, which she sat down by her to do, and when she
+had done work very prettily, entered into conversation.</p>
+
+<p>'I should be much obliged to you, madam,' said she, 'as I do not know my
+way about London, if you would go with me to buy some things for my
+brothers, which I promised to carry back when I return. I have got some
+money to pay for them, for Charles gave me a sixpence, and three
+halfpence, and a farthing; and William gave me threepence; and I have
+got a silver penny and a twopence of my own, all screwed safely in a
+little red box.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Piner inquired what the articles were which she wished to purchase,
+and smiled on perusing the list which Charles had written.</p>
+
+<p>'And pray, my dear,' said she, 'how do you intend to carry the
+coach-whip, for you will not be able conveniently to pack it up? And as
+to the skates, I do not think your father would choose your brothers
+should make use of them till they are much older, as they are very
+dangerous, and particularly so to little boys. The other things I will
+endeavour to procure, and you shall take a walk with me to buy the books
+and choose them yourself, and I will pay for them; so you may save your
+money in the little box, for you are a very good girl, and therefore
+deserve to be encouraged.'</p>
+
+<p>Jemima thanked her aunt for her kind intentions,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> and said if she could
+get a coach-whip, she thought she could carry it to Smiledale in her
+hand; and as her brothers were always kind to her, she wished to do
+everything in her power to oblige them.</p>
+
+<p>The next day was to be a holiday at her cousins' school, on account of
+their dancing-master's ball, to which the Misses Piner were invited; and
+Mrs. Piner had promised Jemima she should be of the party. They rose in
+the morning with the pleasing hopes of enjoying a dance in the evening;
+and Ellen went a dozen times in the day to look at her new cap, wishing
+it was time to put it on (for she was a silly, vain girl), and was so
+foolish as to imagine herself of more consequence, because she was
+better dressed than other children.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Miss Placid,' said she, 'you will look so dowdy to-night in your
+plain muslin frock, while all the rest of the ladies will wear either
+gauze frocks or silk coats full trimmed. Have you seen how handsome our
+dresses will be? Do, pray, look at them,' added she, opening the drawer
+and extending the silk, and then, glad of an excuse to survey it, she
+went to a box, and, taking out her cap, held it on her hand, turning it
+round and round with a degree of pride and pleasure which was very
+silly.</p>
+
+<p>Jemima good-naturedly admired her cousin's finery without wishing for
+any addition to her own.</p>
+
+<p>'I am sure,' replied she, 'my mother has provided what is proper for me,
+and is so kind as to afford me everything necessary; and my frocks are
+always clean, and will do extremely well for the present occasion, or
+else my aunt would have bought me another.'</p>
+
+<p>'But should not you like such a cap?' said Miss Ellen, putting it on
+Jemima's head. 'You look very pretty in it indeed.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 390px;">
+<img src="images/i052.jpg" width="390" height="600" alt="Ellen went a dozen times in the day to look at hey new
+cap.&mdash;Page 36." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>Ellen went a dozen times in the day to look at hey new
+cap.&mdash;Page 36.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'No; I think it is too large for me,' returned Miss Placid; 'and there
+is a piece of wire in it which scratches when you press it down. You
+should alter that, or it will be very uncomfortable.'</p>
+
+<p>In short, the ball was the only subject of conversation during the whole
+day; and although Miss Piner felt an uncommon headache and sickness, yet
+she would not complain, for fear her mother should think proper to leave
+her at home. The pain, however, increased greatly, and she frequently
+left the parlour to give vent to her complaints and avoid her mother's
+notice. The heaviness of her eyes and alternate change of countenance
+from pale to red, at last took Mrs. Piner's attention, and she tenderly
+inquired after her health; but Ellen affected to treat her indisposition
+as a trifle, though, as she was by no means patient in general, she
+would at any other time have made incessant complaints. She attempted to
+laugh and play, but to no purpose, for her illness became too violent to
+be suppressed. However, upon her father's hinting at dinner that she
+seemed to have no appetite, and had better, if not well, go to bed, she
+forced herself, against her inclination, to eat some meat and pudding,
+and went up afterwards to conceal her uneasiness, and put on her
+clothes, thinking that if she was in readiness it would be an additional
+reason for her going. But, alas! so foolish is vanity, and so
+insignificant are outward ornaments, that when Miss Ellen was decked out
+in the gauze frock which had so long engaged her thoughts, she felt such
+a degree of uneasiness from her sickness as to make her disregard what
+she had before wished for with such ill-placed ardour.</p>
+
+<p>Having eaten more than was proper for her stomach in such a disordered
+state, it increased her illness very much; but being determined to go,
+though her mother advised her to the contrary, and pretending she was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>
+somewhat better, she stepped into the coach, the motion of which soon
+produced a most terrible catastrophe; and before she could speak for
+assistance, occasioned such a violent sickness as totally spoiled her
+own and her cousin's clothes, who sat opposite to her; nor did Sally's
+quite escape the disaster, for as she had spread them over Jemima, with
+an intent to display their beauties, they shared in part that calamity
+which had so unfortunately overtaken the others.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Piner, though she was grieved at her daughter's indisposition, was
+likewise extremely angry at the consequence of her obstinacy.</p>
+
+<p>'If you had stayed at home, as I bade you,' said she, somewhat angrily,
+'nothing of this would have happened,' and, pulling the check-string,
+added, 'we must turn about, coachman, for we cannot proceed in this
+condition.'</p>
+
+<p>Sally, notwithstanding her sister's illness, continually teased her
+mother to know whether they should go when Ellen was set down and her
+own dress wiped, without attending to her sister's complaints. When the
+carriage reached Mr. Piner's, he came himself hastily to the door to
+know what accident had occasioned their unexpected return, and upon
+being informed, lifted poor Ellen into the house, while her sister
+declared she would not walk indoors, as she wanted to go to the ball.
+Dinah was, however, called down, and with much resistance conveyed the
+young lady crying and kicking upstairs.</p>
+
+<p>Jemima stood by unnoticed in the general confusion, and Miss Piner was
+undressed with the utmost expedition, and sincerely rejoiced to be rid
+of the encumbrance of that finery which in another situation would have
+excited her envy. Our little heroine, whose sense as well as serenity
+was uncommon, reflected that gay clothes must, certainly in themselves
+be of little value, since they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> could not prevent the approach of
+disease, or suspend for a moment the attacks of pain; that the pleasure
+they bestowed, as it was ill-founded, was likewise extremely transient,
+as Sally's passion on her disappointment was sufficient to prove, since
+she was now mortified in proportion as she had before been elated. And
+though her sister's reflections were for the present suspended by the
+violence of pain, yet her vexation, when she was restored to the ability
+of contemplating the state of her clothes, would be equally poignant and
+without remedy.</p>
+
+<p>While Miss Placid, in obedience to her aunt, took off the frock which
+had suffered so much in its short journey, Sally sat screaming and
+crying in an easy-chair, into which she had thrown herself, declaring
+she would go, and pushed Dinah away as often as she attempted to take
+out a pin. Nor would she be pacified by any endeavours which were used
+to please and amuse her, till her mother, quite tired with her noise and
+ill-humour, declared she would send word to her governess the next
+morning if she did not do what she was desired; upon which threat she
+submitted to be undressed, but petulantly threw every article of her
+attire upon the ground, and afterwards sat down in one of the windows in
+sullen silence, without deigning an answer to any question that was
+proposed to her. Jemima was as much disappointed as her cousin could be,
+and had formed very high expectations of the pleasure she should receive
+at the ball; but she had been always accustomed to submit to unavoidable
+accidents without repining, and to make herself happy with those
+amusements in her power when she was deprived of what she might wish for
+but could not procure.</p>
+
+<p>Some time after this Mr. Steward, a gentleman who lived at Smiledale,
+came up to town about business, and called upon Mr. Piner with an
+intention of seeing Miss<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> Jemima, who was much distressed that she
+happened to be absent, as she wished to hear some news of her father and
+brothers. However, he returned again the next day, and Miss Placid very
+gracefully paid her respects to him, and inquired after the friends she
+had left. He satisfied her as to their health, and presented her with a
+letter from her brother Charles, which, as soon as she could find an
+opportunity, she retired to read. The contents were as follow:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4"><i>To Miss Placid.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'<span class="smcap">My Dear Sister</span>,<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>'As William writes so very slowly, and as father does not think he
+should scribble at all, he has desired me to inform you of everything
+that has passed since you left us. And first I must acquaint you with a
+sad accident which will render one of your commissions useless. Poor
+Hector, the day after you went away, was lost for several hours. We went
+to every house in the village, and hunted behind every tomb in the
+churchyard; called Hector! Hector! through all the fields, and then
+returned and sought him in our own garden again; looked under the bench
+in the poultry-yard, nay, even in the cellar and coal hole; but no
+Hector returned. We sat down together on the bottom stair in the hall,
+and William cried ready to break his heart. Father said he was sorry,
+but told us our tears would not bring him back, and advised us to bear
+the loss of him with more fortitude, took William on his lap, and read a
+story to divert him. We got tolerably cheerful and went down to tea; but
+as soon as my brother took up his bread and butter, the thoughts of
+Hector always jumping up to him for a bit, and how he would bark and
+snap in play at his fingers, quite overcame his firmness, and he could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>
+not touch a morsel. Well, to make short of the story, the next morning
+John came in and told father that Squire Sutton's gamekeeper, not
+knowing to whom he belonged, had shot him for running after the deer.
+"Why now," said I, "if he had but stayed away from the park till Jemima
+had brought him a collar he would not have been killed. Poor Hector! I
+shall hate Ben Hunt as long as I live for it." "Fie, Charles," said my
+father. "Hector is dead, sir," said I; and I did not then stay to hear
+any further. But since that we have talked a great deal about love and
+forgiveness; and I find I must love Ben Hunt, even though I now see poor
+Hector's tomb in the garden. For John went to fetch him, and we buried
+him under the lilac-tree, on the right hand side, just by the large
+sun-flower. And we cried a great deal, and made a card tomb-stone over
+his grave; and father gave us an old hatband and we cut it into pieces
+and we went as mourners. His coffin was carried by Tom Wood, the
+carpenter's son, whose father was so kind as to make it for us, while
+James Stavely (the clerk's nephew), my brother, and I, followed as chief
+mourners, and old nurse and Peggy put on their black hoods which they
+had when Jane Thompson died, and went with us, and we had the kitchen
+table-cloth for a pall, with the old black wrapper put over it which
+used to cover the parrot's cage; but we did not read anything, for that
+would not have been right, as you know. After all, he was but a dog.
+Father, however, to please us, wrote the following epitaph, which I very
+carefully transcribed and affixed over his grave:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'"Here Hector lies, more bless'd by far<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than he who drove the victor's car;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who once Patroclus did subdue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And suffer'd for the conquest too.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like him, o'ercome by cruel fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stern fortune's unrelenting hate;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An equal doom severe he found,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Hunt inflicts the deadly wound.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Less cruel than Pelides, he<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His manes were pursuits to be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And satisfied to see him fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ne'er dragg'd him round the Trojan wall."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>'I am very sorry for the poor fellow's untimely end, and so, I daresay,
+you will be. Our rabbit has kindled, and we have one in particular the
+skin of which is white with black spots, the prettiest I ever saw, and
+which we have called Jemima, and will give to you when you return. Peggy
+has sprained her ankle by a fall downstairs. I forgot my wooden horse
+and left it in the way, and she came down in the dark and stumbled over
+it. I was very sorry, and my father was much displeased, as it is what
+he has so often cautioned us against. Jack Dough, the baker's boy,
+brought me a linnet yesterday, which I have placed in a cage near your
+canary-bird, who is very well. I do not think I have much more to say,
+for writing is such tedious work that I am quite tired, though what I
+have done has been a fortnight in hand. I have a great many things which
+I want to tell you if we could meet, and I should wish to know how you
+like London. Good-bye! William desires his love to you, and bids me say
+that he, as well as myself, will ever be</p>
+
+
+<p class="right">'Your affectionate brother,<br />
+
+'<span class="smcap">Charles Placid.</span>'</p>
+
+
+<p>You may be sure that the intelligence of Hector's death gave Jemima some
+uneasiness; more especially as, at the first time Mr. Steward had
+called, she was out with her aunt and actually purchased a collar for
+him, which, before the receipt of her letter, she had contemplated<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> with
+great satisfaction, in the idea of having so well executed her brothers'
+commission, and the pleasure it would afford them.</p>
+
+<p>When Miss Placid had been in town about four months, and her mother was
+returned from Bristol, Mr. Placid came up to fetch her home, and invited
+her cousins to accompany her to Smiledale, promising to take great care
+of them and to teach them to read and write, and that Mrs. Placid would
+instruct them in every other part of their learning. To which Mr. and
+Mrs. Piner consented. The pleasure which Jemima felt at seeing her
+father after so long an absence can be better imagined than described.
+She looked at him with such transport that the tears started to her
+eyes, and, wanting words to declare the feelings of her heart, could
+only express her joy by stroking and kissing his hand as she sat on a
+stool by his side, and pressing it with fervour between both hers, she
+exclaimed that she was glad to see him. Her uncle and aunt gave her the
+highest praise for her good behaviour, and assured her father that they
+had never during the whole time of her visit seen her once out of
+humour, or at all fretful upon any occasion. Mr. Placid said he was
+extremely happy to hear so good an account of his little girl, but that
+he had expected everything amiable from the sweetness of her
+disposition, adding, 'It would be very strange if she had behaved
+otherwise with you as, I assure you, she is at all times equally
+tractable and engaging.'</p>
+
+<p>The evening before her departure her aunt was so obliging as to present
+her with a new doll, which she had taken great pains to dress, and had
+made for it two dimity petticoats, with a nice pair of stays, a pink
+satin coat, and a muslin frock. She had likewise purchased some cotton
+stockings and a pair of red shoes with white roses, white gloves tied
+with pink strings, and a gauze cap with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> pink satin ribbons. Jemima,
+with a graceful courtesy, paid her acknowledgments to Mrs. Piner for
+that favour, and all the kind attentions she had received since she had
+been in town, and saw it packed up with great care in a box by itself,
+pleasing herself with the joy it would afford her to show it to her
+mother. She then busied herself in putting up the Indian glue, and a
+great quantity of pictures which had been given her, poor Hector's
+collar, and several books which she had bought and had already perused
+with much delight, particularly 'A Course of Lectures for Sunday
+Evenings,' 'The Village School,' and 'Perambulation of a Mouse,' 2 vols.
+each, together with the 'First Principles of Religion,' and the
+'Adventures of a Pincushion.' All these mighty volumes she took with her
+to Smiledale, and Mr. Placid was so much pleased with them as to send
+for an additional supply to present to his friends. As to the skates, he
+had desired her not to think about them, as he should by no means
+approve of her brothers using them; nor would they have occasion for a
+coach-whip, but as he knew Charles had broken his bat she might carry
+him one instead. Jemima entreated permission to convey to them a drum,
+as she thought it would be a plaything they would much enjoy. To this he
+immediately consented, and went himself to procure one.</p>
+
+<p>The Misses Piner, who were in as great a hurry with their preparations
+as Jemima, behaved with less composure on the occasion. They tossed
+everything out of their drawers in search of such toys as they could
+possibly take with them, and wanted to pack up their whole stock of
+playthings (which, indeed, was a very large one), and then, as fast as
+Dinah put what they desired into their trunk, Ellen snatched it out if
+it belonged to her sister, and Sally did the same unless it happened to
+be her own.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> So that, quite tired with their teasing, naughty behaviour,
+she turned it topsy-turvy, and declared she would not put up any one
+thing except their clothes, and added she wished they were gone with all
+her heart.</p>
+
+<p>I shall not take up your time with any account of their journey, nor
+endeavour to describe the places which they passed through on their way
+to Smiledale, whither they arrived about five o'clock in the afternoon.
+Jemima ran to her mother with a degree of rapture which evinced the
+sincerity of her joy in returning to her embraces as soon as her
+brothers would permit her to disengage herself from their caresses, for,
+as they knew the day which was fixed for their return, and could nearly
+guess at the time she would arrive, they had taken their stand at the
+very place where they had parted with her, and, as soon as the carriage
+came in sight, they ran with their utmost speed to meet it, and came
+back again, jumping by the side, and when the coach stopped, were so
+eager to welcome their sister that they would scarcely leave room for
+her to get out, and they were in such a hurry to show her every new
+acquisition they had made since her departure that they would not allow
+her time to speak to anybody but themselves.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p>
+<h2>Two Trials</h2>
+
+
+<h3>I</h3>
+
+<h3>Sally Delia</h3>
+
+<div class="drop">
+
+<img src="images/i062dc.jpg" width="152" height="150" alt="" class="cap" />
+
+
+<p class="cap_3">Silence being demanded, the secretary opened the trial.</p></div>
+
+<p><i>Secretary.</i> Lucy Sterling against Sally Delia, for raising contention
+among her schoolfellows, and disturbing the general peace.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> If I was unhappy in being appointed to sit in judgment on Billy
+Prattle, how much more so must I now be when I am bound to inquire with
+impartiality into every particular which may tend to convict Sally Delia
+of the charge laid against her. I would, however, recommend you to go
+through this business with the utmost candour, to advance nothing
+through prejudice, to conceal nothing through a mistaken tenderness; and
+to you, ladies of the jury, to divest yourselves of everything but
+truth, to weigh nicely the force of the evidence, that, in giving your
+verdict, you may convince everyone present you have acted upon upright
+principles.</p>
+
+<p><i>Secretary.</i> Lucy Sterling, please to support the charge.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> I would beg leave, Lucy Sterling, before you proceed to give
+your evidence, to ask you whether either of the ladies on the jury were
+anyways concerned in this quarrel.</p>
+
+<p><i>Lucy Sterling.</i> Sally Delia left the choice of her jury to me. It
+therefore became my business, though a principal evidence against her,
+to choose such young ladies as were absent at the time of the fray.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Happy, indeed, is that young lady in whom friends and enemies
+confide!</p>
+
+<p><i>Lucy Sterling.</i> A few evenings ago, when all the young ladies had
+finished their labours for that day, they were allowed to amuse
+themselves in what innocent manner they pleased in our garden. Our
+governess, solicitous for our felicity, thought to add to our pleasures
+by sending us a basket of sweetmeats, which she intended to be equally
+divided; but an unlucky accident turned this kind intention into a scene
+of sorrow, and raised in their hearts nothing but strife. There happened
+to be a piece of candied angelica, which seemed very beautiful. On this
+they all placed their attention, and all begged for that. Every one
+endeavoured to show her superior right. Sally Delia urged her superior
+strength. But as they were all speaking together it was almost
+impossible to distinguish what one said from the other.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Was Sally Delia the first who talked of committing violence?</p>
+
+<p><i>Lucy Sterling.</i> I heard nobody else mention any such thing. I
+endeavoured to quiet them, but they would not listen to me. Their minds
+were so bent upon this piece of sweetmeat that all the rest were
+disregarded. I offered to divide it amongst them to pacify them; but
+they all talked together, and had no time to listen to what I said.
+Then, as the only method to quiet the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> disturbance, I threw the bone of
+contention into a ditch, from whence it was impossible for either of
+them to get it. A profound silence ensued, and I took that opportunity
+to reason with them on the folly of quarrelling about such trifles. My
+admonitions were in vain, for the contention broke out more violently,
+and the dispute now was, not who should have it, but who ought to have
+had it. Sally Delia was the first who renewed the strife, and not being
+able to give vent to her passion in words alone, gave Nancy Graceful a
+slap on the face. The other returned the blow, and the scuffle became
+general. Many blows, indeed, did not pass between them, for they aimed
+only at tearing each others' clothes. One had her cap torn to pieces,
+and her hair pulled all about her shoulders; a second had her frock torn
+down the middle; and, in short, there was hardly one among them who had
+not some mark to show of having been concerned in this unfortunate
+affair.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> What part did you act in this fray, and how did it end?</p>
+
+<p><i>Lucy Sterling.</i> I endeavoured to part them, and in endeavouring so to
+do, received several scratches on the hands and arms. I know not where
+all this would have ended had not our governess come to my assistance.
+After hearing her voice, everything was quiet, excepting with Sally
+Delia, who, in the presence of her governess, tore two handkerchiefs and
+an apron. The fear of punishment now began to take place of anger, and
+each, ashamed of the trophies of victory she held in her hands, let them
+fall to the ground. Our governess for some time stood astonished, little
+thinking that what she had given them to increase their felicity should
+be the cause of so much animosity. Madame inquired of me the cause of
+this disaster, which I explained as well as I was able.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> They were all
+examined separately, their tears pleaded their pardon; but Sally Delia
+remained obdurate and inflexible.</p>
+
+<p><i>Secretary.</i> Polly Artless, please to come and give evidence.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> What do you know, Polly, of this quarrel?</p>
+
+<p><i>Polly Artless.</i> I was not present when it happened; but the next
+morning I attended Sally Delia's examination before Lucy Sterling. Her
+governess had ordered Lucy Sterling to examine her, and in case she
+could not bring her to repentance, then to confine her, and order her to
+be brought to trial.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Relate what passed at this examination.</p>
+
+<p><i>Polly Artless.</i> Lucy Sterling asked her in the most kind manner what
+she could think to get by her contention about a piece of sweetmeat.
+Sally Delia replied that she should not answer her question; that she
+did not like to have more than one governess, and if she obeyed her she
+thought she did enough.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> What reply did Lucy Sterling make to this?</p>
+
+<p><i>Polly Artless.</i> Lucy Sterling reminded her of the authority with which
+she herself had contributed to invest her; that she did not set up to
+govern others, or to prove herself wiser than they; that she only wanted
+to persuade her to learn to be peaceable and happy. She therefore begged
+leave to repeat the question whether she got anything by this last
+quarrel?</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Did Sally Delia make any answer?</p>
+
+<p><i>Polly Artless.</i> She replied that she could not say she did get anything
+by it but the displeasure of her governess and having her clothes torn;
+that she did not value the sweetmeat, but that she had too much spirit
+to be imposed on, and that she was sure she had as much right to it as
+any of them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Did Lucy Sterling endeavour any further to convince her of her
+fault?</p>
+
+<p><i>Polly Artless.</i> Yes. Lucy Sterling told her that she would have shown a
+greater spirit in giving up the matter of contention than in fighting
+for it; that then she would have proved herself a young lady of
+moderation and sense, nor would she have incurred the high displeasure
+of her governess. Sally Delia was at a loss for an answer, but she was
+so obstinate that she did not care to own herself in the wrong. At last
+she replied: 'I think I am as capable of judging what is right as you
+are of teaching me.' Then, finding herself overpowered by reason, she
+burst into tears. Lucy Sterling did everything in her power to bring her
+to confess her fault, but all was to no purpose. She therefore left her
+in custody till her trial.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> What is the character of Sally Delia among her schoolfellows?</p>
+
+<p><i>Polly Artless.</i> She is too apt to be quarrelsome, too full of her high
+birth, and dissatisfied with everything.</p>
+
+<p><i>Secretary.</i> Betsy Friendly, please to come and give evidence.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> What do you know, Betsy Friendly, concerning this quarrel?</p>
+
+<p><i>Betsy Friendly.</i> I accompanied Polly Artless on the examination of the
+accused before Lucy Sterling, and, to the best of my remembrance, Polly
+Artless has told the truth.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Do you know anything further?</p>
+
+<p><i>Betsy Friendly.</i> I called this morning on Sally Delia, before she came
+on her trial. I found her divided between obstinacy and contrition, but
+I thought more inclinable to the latter.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Relate what passed at this visit?</p>
+
+<p><i>Betsy Friendly.</i> As soon as I entered the chamber, I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> saw her sitting
+on a sofa in a pensive posture, and tears in her eyes. I asked her what
+she thought of Lucy Sterling's advice, and whether it would not have
+been better to have followed it than suffer her conduct to be exposed in
+a public manner?</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> What reply did she make?</p>
+
+<p><i>Betsy Friendly.</i> Sally Delia said that she began to see a good deal of
+truth in Lucy Sterling's observations, and she seemed to fear that her
+reason would at last oblige her to own it. This last thought seemed to
+fill her with the most painful reflections.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Did you not endeavour to convince her of the folly of her
+obstinacy?</p>
+
+<p><i>Betsy Friendly.</i> I said all I could think of to persuade her to conquer
+her spirit. She would not, at last, give me a word of answer to anything
+I said. I then turned from her and left her.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> What have you observed with respect to her general behaviour?</p>
+
+<p><i>Betsy Friendly.</i> She is too often obstinate and quarrelsome, but at
+other times free, easy, and good-natured.</p>
+
+<p><i>Secretary.</i> Susan Lenox, please to give evidence.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> What do you know in respect to this fray?</p>
+
+<p><i>Susan Lenox.</i> I have too much reason to remember it, for my cambric
+apron, which had cost me three months' working, was torn to rags.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> What is your opinion of the general behaviour of Sally Delia?</p>
+
+<p><i>Susan Lenox.</i> She is sometimes well enough&mdash;at least, so long as you
+will listen to her tales about her illustrious family.</p>
+
+<p><i>Secretary.</i> Anne Graceful, please to give evidence.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Please to inform the court, Anne Graceful, of what you know
+concerning this affair.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><i>Anne Graceful.</i> I have reason to complain of my loss; my muslin frock
+was entirely destroyed.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Please to inform the court who gave the first blow?</p>
+
+<p><i>Anne Graceful.</i> Though I did not see Delia give the first blow, I have
+no reason to doubt she was the person from whom I received it. When we
+were disputing who ought to have had the favourite sweetmeat, Sally
+Delia urged her high birth and fortune, and concluded that if reason
+could not strength should have obtained it. Hearing this, I turned my
+back on her as a mark of contempt, when I instantly received a violent
+slap on the head.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> How did you act on that occasion.</p>
+
+<p><i>Anne Graceful.</i> I instantly turned about, and in my anger, mistaking
+Susan Lenox for Sally Delia, I treated her very rudely.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> This ought to teach us that passion is not only ill-becoming a
+young lady, but that it may lead into such mistakes as may be attended
+with serious consequences. But when you found your mistake, how did you
+behave towards Susan Lenox?</p>
+
+<p><i>Anne Graceful.</i> As soon as peace was restored, I begged pardon, and
+offered to repair all injuries. The former was granted, but the latter
+she would not accept.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> I have only one more question to ask, which you will please to
+answer me on your word. Was there not some old grudge subsisting between
+you and Sally Delia?</p>
+
+<p><i>Anne Graceful.</i> I must own that I never liked her; there was something
+in her so proud and overbearing as gave me a disgust.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> But were Delia to alter her conduct, should you forget what is
+past?</p>
+
+<p><i>Anne Graceful.</i> When she begins to act like a reasonable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> girl, she
+will become dear to me and the rest of her schoolfellows.</p>
+
+<p><i>Secretary.</i> Henry Lenox, come forward and give evidence.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> What do you know, Henry Lenox, of this fray?</p>
+
+<p><i>Henry Lenox.</i> I saw all the finest part of it. I happened to be looking
+after a bird's nest in a field next to the garden: I heard the young
+ladies in high chat: but, as the sound did not seem to be very
+harmonious, curiosity led me to see what they were at. I instantly
+climbed up into a tree, and scarce had I taken my seat, when the
+engagement began. I saw Sally Delia strike Anne Graceful in the face;
+that young lady turned about and pulled off my sister's cap, and part of
+her hair with it. The battle soon became general, and it was impossible
+for me to distinguish friends from foes. Such a havoc ensued among caps,
+gowns, and frocks, as I never before beheld. This is the truth of what I
+know of this terrible disaster.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Do you, on your word, declare that Sally Delia gave the first
+blow?</p>
+
+<p><i>Henry Lenox.</i> I am certain she did.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Sally Delia, what have you to say in your defence?</p>
+
+<p><i>Sally Delia.</i> I am now brought to a public trial, as though I were some
+mean-born wretch; but out of conformity to your customs I submit to it.
+I deny the whole of the charge, and will wait for the verdict.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Young ladies of the jury, Sally Delia now stands before you,
+accused of raising strife and contention among her schoolfellows, and
+disturbing the general peace. Lucy Sterling affirms that the governess
+having presented the young ladies with a basket of sweetmeats to regale
+them, a quarrel arose among them with respect to the preference of
+choice of one part of it. Disputes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> ran high, and at last Sally Delia
+was so imprudent as to lift up her hand against one of her
+schoolfellows, which created a general confusion. The part Lucy Sterling
+acted in endeavouring to pacify them is no small addition to that
+character for which she is so justly admired. This young lady says
+positively that she saw Sally Delia give the first blow; that the
+contention was no sooner over than all of them were sorry for what they
+had done, except Sally Delia, who persisted in her fault, and was to be
+prevailed on by no entreaties or arguments. Polly Artless says that she
+was not present at the fray, but attended Sally Delia on her examination
+before Lucy Sterling, and corroborates everything which that young lady
+had advanced, but more particularly points out the care Lucy Sterling
+took to bring her to reason. I may add, the character this evidence
+gives Sally Delia is not at all to her reputation. Betsy Friendly, who
+visited the accused before her trial, seems to speak something in her
+favour by saying she showed some marks of contrition, but at last left
+her in an obstinate condition. Susan Lenox stood next to the accused at
+the time she struck Anne Graceful, and became herself a sufferer
+thereby. Anne Graceful cannot take upon herself positively that Sally
+Delia was the person that struck her, though circumstances are strong
+against her; but Henry Lenox declares he saw Sally Delia give the blow.
+Sally Delia, in her defence, contents herself with denying the whole of
+the charge, and rests on her innocence. I will only observe that I
+cannot see how you can acquit her when there are so many convincing
+proofs of her guilt. The principal point to be considered is what
+punishment you will inflict: it ought not to be so slight a one that the
+remembrance of it may leave no impression behind, nor so heavy that it
+may anyways be deemed insupportable. After<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> all, I only give my opinion
+freely, which, above all, is to do justice and love mercy.</p>
+
+<p>(The jury went out, and returned again in about half an hour.)</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Are you all agreed in your verdict?</p>
+
+<p><i>Jury.</i> Yes.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Is Sally Delia guilty or not guilty?</p>
+
+<p><i>Jury.</i> Guilty.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> What punishment do you inflict?</p>
+
+<p><i>Jury.</i> To be confined one month to her chamber; to be allowed neither
+sweetmeats nor fruit, nor to receive any visits; but, that her health
+may not be impaired, that she be allowed to walk twice a day in the
+garden, at those times when none of the scholars are there; that, after
+that time is expired, she be brought into the large hall, and there be
+obliged to ask a general pardon of all her schoolfellows; and that, in
+case she refuses to comply with these injunctions, that her parents be
+then prayed to take her home.</p>
+
+<p>Sally Delia, who had made no doubt that she should be acquitted, no
+sooner heard this hard judgment given against her than she burst into
+tears. The judge seeing it, thus spoke to her: 'I should be glad, Sally
+Delia, if you would inform me and the whole court from what source those
+tears flow: whether from a just sense of your crimes, or only from the
+apprehensions of your punishment? Why should you delay to humble that
+haughty spirit, to acknowledge your error, and beg for a mitigation of
+your punishments? I will myself then plead for you. But remember, if you
+continue obstinate till the court is broken up, your repentance
+afterwards will come too late.'</p>
+
+<p>Sally Delia then fell upon her knees, acknowledged her fault, and begged
+a mitigation of her punishment. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> judge recommended her to the jury,
+who left the matter entirely to him. He ordered her to be confined only
+three days, and even during that time to have the liberty of receiving
+visits from the rest of the scholars.</p>
+
+<p>The trial being now ended, Sally Delia's schoolfellows, who just before
+had been evidences against her, ran to her and tenderly embraced her.</p>
+
+<p>She promised to lay aside all her haughty actions, and, instead of being
+hated by her companions, to obtain the love of them all. She kept her
+word, and is now become one of the most amiable young ladies in the
+school.</p>
+
+<p>The whole court was extremely well satisfied with the candid manner in
+which every part of the trial was supported.</p>
+
+
+<h3>II</h3>
+
+<h3>Harry Lenox</h3>
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i072dc.jpg" width="157" height="150" alt="H" class="cap" />
+
+
+<p class="cap_2">Harry Lenox little thought, when he was giving evidence against Sally
+Delia, that he should himself be soon brought to public trial. He was in
+many respects of a good disposition; he loved his books, was affable and
+obliging to his schoolfellows, and subservient to his tutor; but then he
+was fond of getting into mischief, such as breaking church-windows,
+laying traps to throw people down, and was very ingenious at inventions
+of this kind. Whenever he was accused of anything of this sort, he would
+not only deny it, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> stoutly stand to it; and this, at last, brought
+him to a trial.</p></div>
+
+<p>The young gentlemen in general were very much vexed at Harry's disgrace,
+and would have bought off the complaint but that this would have been
+deemed bribery and corruption. The ladies were, most of them, well
+pleased that he was himself now brought into the same dilemma. In the
+meantime the judge took his seat, the jury assembled, and the prisoner
+was brought to the bar.</p>
+
+<p><i>Secretary.</i> Sammy Halifax against Harry Lenox, for a robbery and
+telling a fib.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Call up the evidence.</p>
+
+<p><i>Secretary.</i> Sammy Halifax, support the charge.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> What have you to say, Sammy Halifax, against the prisoner?</p>
+
+<p><i>Sammy Halifax.</i> A few days ago, having given my tutor satisfaction in
+the performance of my exercises, he ordered me a plum-tart as a reward.
+It was baked in a tin pan, which I was ordered to bring back as soon as
+I had eat the tart. Henry Lenox was remarkably taken with the look of
+this tart, and offered to keep it for me till I wanted it, alleging that
+his room, which was a north light, would keep it much better than mine,
+on which the sun shone the hottest part of the day. I accepted the
+offer, and saw him put it into his cupboard. I went immediately to
+invite two or three of my intimates to partake of it in the evening in
+my own room, and thought I could do no less than ask Harry Lenox to make
+one of the party, in consideration of his kindness; but he excused
+himself. In the evening we all met, and Harry Lenox brought the tart and
+set it down, and begged leave to be excused, as he had promised to take
+a walk with his sister. It was a long time, so charming did it look,
+before we could persuade ourselves to spoil the sight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> of it. At last I
+stuck my knife into it; but how shall I express our disappointment when,
+instead of fine plums and rich juice, we found only pebbles and water!
+We all vowed revenge for this piece of treachery, and would have beat
+him soundly could we have then found him; but he had taken care to get
+out of the way. When our first warmth was over, we concluded it would be
+better to treat him in a judicial manner; and he is now before this
+court for that purpose.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> You have said that you saw him put the tart into the cupboard;
+can you take upon you to say whether or not there was any lock to it?</p>
+
+<p><i>Sammy Halifax.</i> I am certain there was no lock on the cupboard; for he
+said to me when he put the tart into it that he had no lock, and he
+hoped nobody would get at it.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> By what reason do you then conclude that he was the thief?</p>
+
+<p><i>Sammy Halifax.</i> Because he had the care of it, and refused to come and
+partake of it.</p>
+
+<p><i>Secretary.</i> George Bobadil, come and give evidence.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> What do you know of this matter, George Bobadil?</p>
+
+<p><i>George Bobadil.</i> I was one invited by Sammy Halifax to eat part of this
+tart; but on cutting it up, instead of plums, we found only stones. It
+was instantly concluded that Henry Lenox was the traitor.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Had you any other reason to suppose that Henry Lenox was such?</p>
+
+<p><i>George Bobadil.</i> There was reason to think so; besides, I met him as I
+was going to the feast, stopped him, and told him where I was hastening;
+when he replied, as I thought, with a sneer, 'You will have a delicate
+repast!' I did not then know that he was entrusted with the care of it,
+and concluded that this manner of answering me arose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> from my
+supposition of his not being invited; but the tart was no sooner cut up
+than his reason for answering me thus was evidently apparent.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> You cannot take upon you to say that you positively know him to
+be guilty of the charge?</p>
+
+<p><i>George Bobadil.</i> I cannot, but there is the strongest presumption of
+it.</p>
+
+<p><i>Secretary.</i> Samuel Evelyn, come and give evidence.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> What have you to say, Samuel Evelyn, to this matter?</p>
+
+<p><i>Samuel Evelyn.</i> I was one invited by Sammy Halifax to partake of this
+tart, which, when cut up, produced nothing but stones. I had been
+walking after dinner in the garden before I went into the school; and
+when I got to the bottom of it I saw Henry Lenox and three or four more
+sitting on the grass under a rose-bush. As soon as I came within sight
+of them, I saw them all in a bustle; and when I came up to them, though
+I did not see them eating anything, yet their mouths were so clammy that
+it was with difficulty they could answer me. As I had then no reason to
+suspect anything, and finding myself an unwelcome guest, I left them and
+went into the school.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> You do not, then, pretend to say what they had been eating.</p>
+
+<p><i>Samuel Evelyn.</i> I cannot take upon me positively to say what they had
+been eating, but I afterwards made no doubt of its being Sammy Halifax's
+tart.</p>
+
+<p><i>Secretary.</i> Come, Edward Harris, and give evidence.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> What have you to say, Edward, with respect to this tart?</p>
+
+<p><i>Edward Harris.</i> I was invited to partake of it, and was, like the rest,
+disappointed; for there was nothing left but the top crust, the side and
+bottom crust, all the plums being taken away, and stones and water put
+in their place.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Who do you suppose did it?</p>
+
+<p><i>Edward Harris.</i> I make no doubt that it was Henry Lenox. It being left
+in his custody, and his refusing to come and partake of it, seem to
+corroborate the guilt of Henry Lenox.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Have you any other circumstance to allege against him?</p>
+
+<p><i>Edward Harris.</i> Yes; after he came out of the garden, and had been some
+time in the school, he was called out to construe. Before he left his
+form, he pulled out his handkerchief to blow his nose, when three or
+four plumstones fell on the ground. After he was gone I picked them up,
+for I love the bitter of the kernel.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Did you observe these plumstones, whether they were of a pale
+or a red colour?</p>
+
+<p><i>Edward Harris.</i> I had put them into my pocket, and forgotten them; but,
+on meeting with my disappointment in the tart, and finding there was so
+much room to suspect that Henry Lenox was the culprit, I pulled out the
+stones, and found by their colour they had been baked, for they were of
+a deep red. We concluded likewise that they must that day have been
+taken out of some tart, as they were still clammy.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Did you ask Henry Lenox how he came by those stones?</p>
+
+<p><i>Edward Harris.</i> I did not, for I well knew, if I had, he would not have
+answered me.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Did you take any method to discover who was the person that
+robbed Sammy Halifax?</p>
+
+<p><i>Edward Harris.</i> Yes; we agreed among ourselves, with our tutor's leave,
+to stick up a paper in the school, offering one shilling reward to any
+of the party who would turn evidence, and give information of the person
+who committed the fact. As we had great reason to suppose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> several were
+concerned in the eating of it, we were in hopes by this means to make a
+discovery; but we were disappointed, for not any spoke a word about it,
+and all in general pleaded ignorance.</p>
+
+<p><i>Secretary.</i> Hannah Careful, please give evidence.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Pray, what have you to say to this matter?</p>
+
+<p><i>Hannah Careful.</i> I am a half-boarder, and was ordered by my governess
+to attend here, in order to prove that the tart I delivered to Sammy
+Halifax was filled with plums, and not stones.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> That is a material point; pray proceed.</p>
+
+<p><i>Hannah Careful.</i> My governess instructs me in the art of pastry and
+confectionery; I that day made all the tarts myself, and was ordered to
+give Sammy Halifax one of the best. Before I gave it him, I raised one
+side of the crust, to see if the syrup might not have boiled out, when I
+found it had not; and I am certain it was filled with plums when I
+delivered it to Sammy Halifax.</p>
+
+<p><i>Secretary.</i> Sally Delia, please to give evidence.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> What do you know of this affair?</p>
+
+<p><i>Sally Delia.</i> Your lordship cannot have yet forgotten that I was myself
+so unfortunate as to fall under the censure of this court. I am sorry
+for the crime which then brought me before you, but I shall ever
+consider that day as the happiest period of my life&mdash;a day in which I
+was convinced of my folly, obstinacy, and self-conceit; a day to which I
+owe all the happiness of a calm and peaceful life, free from the
+passions of thoughtless girls who place enjoyments in the gratification
+of unreasonable desires.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Pray, Sally, proceed, and do not imagine you will be
+troublesome to the court; there is nothing we can listen to with so much
+pleasure as the language of reformation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><i>Sally Delia.</i> I do not mention this out of vanity; only to induce the
+court to believe that I do not this day appear here against Henry Lenox
+out of any grudge whatever to his having been a witness against me. So
+far from it, I consider him as my benefactor; I consider him as one of
+those to whom I am indebted for my reformation. Happy shall I think
+myself if I shall in any way contribute to his.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Your evidence cannot be disputed, and I doubt not the jury will
+lay much stress on what you shall advance.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sally Delia.</i> It has lately been my custom in the evening to retire to
+a little arbour behind the summer-house in the bottom of the garden. I
+had this evening been so intent on what I was reading that I had stayed
+longer than usual. In the midst of my thoughts I was interrupted by the
+noise of somebody breaking through the bushes. I soon heard Henry
+Lenox's voice, and that of some others whom I well knew. I soon found
+the cause of their thus breaking out of their own bounds. They had some
+secret to talk of. I sat as still as possible, fearing I might be
+discovered, and heard Henry Lenox say, 'If you blow me, I never will
+forgive you; besides, you will come in for a flogging as well as me.'
+They all promised they never would puff; one said he never ate anything
+sweeter in his life; another said it was sweeter because it was stolen;
+and a fourth laughed heartily on thinking, when it was opened, how
+foolish they must all look; it was, says the fifth, one of the
+best&mdash;&mdash;Here he stopped, for the foot of a person was heard coming down
+the garden, when they all flew away, and got off unperceived by anyone
+but myself. It was one of the maids, who was coming to look after me;
+and my governess chid me for staying beyond the time allowed me. My
+acknowledging my fault and asking pardon was thought a sufficient
+atonement.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 415px;">
+<img src="images/i079.jpg" width="415" height="600" alt="&#39;I was reading, and was interrupted by Henry Lenox and
+three others talking over a secret.&#39;&mdash;Page 64." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>&#39;I was reading, and was interrupted by Henry Lenox and
+three others talking over a secret.&#39;&mdash;Page 64.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Can you, from what you heard in the garden, take upon you to
+say that Henry Lenox is certainly guilty of what is laid to his charge?</p>
+
+<p><i>Sally Delia.</i> Had not the maid disturbed them by coming to call me, I
+doubt not but I should have been able to answer in the affirmative; at
+the present, I only say that I believe so, and that upon the strongest
+presumption.</p>
+
+<p><i>Henry Lenox.</i> I am happy in being tried by a judge and jury who have
+too much sense to convict me on mere conjecture, and there is far from
+any positive proof. To give a verdict against me in this case would be
+opening a way to the greatest errors. How many, through the hasty
+determination of a jury, on mere conjecture, have suffered unjustly! But
+should I meet with that fate, I will never find fault or repine, since I
+am sensible I shall not be the first, and I trust that my innocence will
+support me under the unmerited disgrace. Sammy Halifax came to me,
+brought a tart in his hand, and for safety, to oblige him, I put it into
+my cupboard. I brought it from thence, and gave it him. If anyone got to
+it, and treated it in the manner he describes, I am sorry for it; but it
+cannot be imputed to my fault. My reason for declining taking part of it
+is well known to my sister, whom I had promised to take a walk with in
+the evening. She is now in court, and I apprehend her word will not be
+doubted. As for the sneering words I made use of to George Bobadil (for
+that was the term he gave them), if they had any particular meaning at
+all, it could only serve to show what little consideration I made of
+mere matters for the tooth. As for the evidence which Samuel Evelyn has
+given against me, it can be of no weight, since<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> it is well known that
+each has his confidant, and that each has some mighty secret to reveal
+to another. As to what Edward Harris advances with respect to the
+plumstones, they might as easily have fallen from the pocket of another
+as from mine, and there is even a possibility that these very plumstones
+may have come out of the tart after they themselves had eat it. Upon the
+whole, I leave it to your lordship and this honourable court whether
+there be any other view in this trial than that my accusers may obtain
+another tart at the expense of my credit.</p>
+
+<p><i>Secretary.</i> Susan Lenox, please give evidence.</p>
+
+<p><i>Susan Lenox.</i> My brother came to me in the evening in which the tart
+was eat, agreeable to my invitation; and I did not hear him mention the
+least syllable that could indicate his guilt in this matter. He
+mentioned the tart, indeed, by saying he was invited to eat part of it,
+but added that his appetite was the least of his concern.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Did he appear more cheerful or dejected than usual?</p>
+
+<p><i>Susan Lenox.</i> I perceived no change in him; he had nothing more or less
+of his natural gaiety and cheerfulness.</p>
+
+<p><i>Stephen Brooks.</i> I have known the prisoner a long time, and have always
+found him more ready to give than receive, and far from taking anything
+from anyone.</p>
+
+<p><i>Richard Richards.</i> The prisoner has been my intimate playmate for four
+years, and I never once quarrelled with him in my life.</p>
+
+<p><i>Benjamin Blunt.</i> The whole is a contrivance to bring Henry Lenox into
+disgrace, and to make you believe they have been ill used.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> You have said, Sally Delia, that there were some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> voices you
+heard in the summer-house besides that of Henry Lenox. Do you imagine
+that either of these last young gentlemen were there?</p>
+
+<p><i>Sally Delia.</i> I am certain they were all three there.</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Young gentlemen of the jury, I will not take up your time in
+recapitulating the evidence given; every part of it seems to agree so
+well that you cannot mistake it. The two principal points to be
+considered are these: If you are determined to find him guilty only on
+positive proofs, then you must acquit him, for there does not appear to
+be any throughout the whole trial; but if you will be contented with
+circumstances, supported by the strongest evidence that can be given,
+then you must find him guilty. It is, indeed, a just observation of the
+prisoner, in his defence, that many have suffered innocently, though on
+the strongest presumptions, and I must add that the character of a young
+gentleman is too tender a thing to be sported with. After all, I do not
+presume to direct you. I would only advise you to think of the matter
+impartially; a verdict given from such principles of action, though it
+may tend to lead to a mistake, can never be attended with reproach.</p>
+
+<p>(The jury then went out of court, and returned in about an hour and a
+quarter.)</p>
+
+<p><i>Judge.</i> Gentlemen of the jury, are you agreed in your verdict?</p>
+
+<p><i>Jury.</i> We cannot determine, and therefore beg to leave it special.</p>
+
+<p>The judge immediately quitted the chair, which was soon after filled by
+the tutor, and the judge took the place of the secretary. Henry Lenox,
+who had not doubted, as there was no positive proof against him, but
+that he should be acquitted, as soon as he found the jury left it
+special, and that his tutor had taken the chair against him,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> his heart
+instantly failed him, and everyone took notice of the alteration of his
+countenance. Judge Meanwell then went all through the evidence, which,
+being finished, the tutor thus addressed Henry Lenox:</p>
+
+<p>'Henry Lenox, I am unhappy for you in finding that to the crime of theft
+you have added the grievous guilt of a lie. By your artful defence, you
+have so far baffled the jury as to make them doubtful of the clearest
+thing in the world. Do not foolishly imagine that you have any
+compliment to pay yourself on this score; the most shining abilities,
+when used to deceive and mislead, to trick and cozen mankind, and to
+persuade them out of their lawful property, become the most dangerous
+possessions, and are as mischievous as plagues, pestilence, and famine.
+How can you dare to arrogate to yourself that part of philosophy which
+teaches you to look upon the luxuries of life with indifference, while
+your heart must tell you that you have not the least claim to it, and
+that you sacrifice your character and reputation to obtain luxurious
+trifles? They who are capable of deceiving in small concerns will not
+scruple to be guilty of injustice in matters of the highest moment. No
+one is wicked all at once; they harden their hearts by degrees against
+the truth, and at last are totally blind to it. Such conduct as yours
+promises nothing but the most fatal events; but it is my place to
+destroy it in its bud; and be assured that, though the jury could not
+see into your guilt, I can most clearly; and I do further tell you that
+unless you confess your fault, ask pardon, promise to do so no more, and
+make it your study to keep your word, I will treat you with the utmost
+severity. I will abridge you of every kind of amusement, and will
+confine you from the rest of your schoolfellows, that you may not
+corrupt them. On the other hand, if you confess your crime, I will
+lessen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> your punishment, and may, perhaps, restore you to my favour.'</p>
+
+<p>Henry Lenox then fell on his knees, and, with tears in his eyes,
+confessed he was guilty, but mentioned nothing of those that ate part of
+it. His master then forgave him, on his most faithful promises of future
+amendment; and those who had been evidences against him shook hands with
+him, and they were all friends immediately.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p>
+<h2>Prince Life</h2>
+
+
+<h3>Chapter I</h3>
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i085dc.jpg" width="152" height="150" alt="O" class="cap" />
+
+<p class="cap_2">Once upon a time there was a young Prince who met with a very curious
+kind of misfortune. Most people want something which they cannot get;
+and because they cannot get it, they generally desire it more than
+anything else, which is very foolish, for it would be much better to be
+contented with what they have.</p></div>
+
+<p>He was a wise fox, my dear Charlie, who thought the grapes were sour
+when he could not reach them. Now the Prince's misfortune consisted in
+this, that he had everything on earth he could want or desire, and a
+little more. He had a fine palace and a fine country, obedient subjects
+and servants, and true friends. When he got up in the morning, there was
+someone ready to put on his clothes for him; when he went to bed at
+night, someone to take them off again. A fairy called Prosperity gave
+him everything he desired as soon as he desired it. If he wanted peaches
+at Christmas, or cool air at mid-summer, the first came instantly from
+his hothouses,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> and the second was produced by an enormous fan, which
+hung from the top of the room, and was moved by two servants.</p>
+
+<p>But strange to say, the Prince got weary of all this; he was tired of
+wanting nothing. When he sat down to dinner he had but little appetite,
+because he had had such a good breakfast; he hardly knew which coat to
+put on, they were all so beautiful; and when he went to bed at night,
+though the bed was as soft as a white cloud, he could not sleep, for he
+was not tired.</p>
+
+<p>There was only one ugly thing in the whole palace, which was a little,
+drowsy, grey dwarf, left there by the fairy Prosperity. He kept yawning
+all day, and very often set the Prince yawning, too, only to look at
+him. This dwarf they called Satiety, and he followed the Prince about
+wherever he went.</p>
+
+<p>One day the Prince asked him what he was yawning for, and Satiety
+answered:</p>
+
+<p>'Because I have nothing to do, and nothing to wish for, my Prince.'</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose that is the reason why I yawn, too,' replied the Prince.</p>
+
+<p>'Rather is it having me always with you,' answered Satiety.</p>
+
+<p>'Then get away and leave me,' said the Prince.</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot do that,' answered Satiety. 'You can go from me, but I cannot
+go from you; I can never leave you as long as you remain in the palace
+of Prosperity.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then I will have you turned out,' said the Prince.</p>
+
+<p>'No one can do that,' said Satiety, 'but Misfortune, and he is a very
+capricious person. Though he is a very disagreeable monster, some people
+seem to court him, but cannot get him to come near them; while to a
+great many he comes unawares, and catches them, though<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> they fly from
+him eagerly. I tell you, Prince, you can go from me, but I cannot go
+from you as long as you remain in the palace of Prosperity.'</p>
+
+<p>That night, when he went to his soft bed, the Prince thought very much
+as to the conversation he had held with Satiety, and he resolved to go
+out of the palace for a time, just to get rid of the ugly little grey,
+yawning dwarf.</p>
+
+<p>The very resolution seemed to do him good, and he slept better that
+night after he had made it than he had done for many a night before.</p>
+
+
+<h3>Chapter II</h3>
+
+<p>The next morning when he rose he felt quite refreshed, and he said to a
+groom: 'Bring me my stout horse, Expedition; I am going out to take a
+ride all alone.'</p>
+
+<p>The groom answered not a word, for in that palace everyone obeyed the
+Prince at once, and nobody troubled him but the ugly little dwarf,
+Satiety. As he went away, however, the groom said to himself with a
+sigh: 'It is a sad thing to be in the wide world all alone. My Prince
+does not know what it is. But let him try; it may be better for him.'</p>
+
+<p>He accordingly brought the horse to the palace-door. But when the Prince
+came down he felt quite well, and, looking about amongst all his
+attendants, he could only catch a distant glimpse of Satiety standing
+yawning behind. For a minute he was half-inclined not to go, for he did
+not mind seeing Satiety at a distance if he did not come near. But the
+groom, whose name was Resolution, seeing him hesitate, said: 'You had
+better<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> go, my Prince, as you determined; it may do you good.' And a
+chamberlain called Effort helped him on his horse.</p>
+
+<p>At first, as the Prince rode along, everything was quite delightful to
+him. He seemed to breathe more freely now that he was no more troubled
+with Satiety. The flowers looked bright, and the sky beautiful, for a
+cloud or two here and there only gave variety. The very air seemed
+fresher than it had been in the sheltered gardens of the palace, and the
+Prince said to himself: 'What a delightful country this is, just on the
+verge of the land of Prosperity.'</p>
+
+<p>Just then he saw a countryman gathering grapes in a vineyard, and every
+now and then putting some into his mouth, and the Prince asked him whose
+fine estate it was that he was passing through.</p>
+
+<p>'It belongs to a gentleman and lady equally, sir,' replied the good man;
+'they are called Activity and Ease. They are the happiest couple ever
+seen. When Activity is tired, Ease takes his head upon her lap; and soon
+as she is weary of her burden, Activity jumps up and relieves her from
+it.'</p>
+
+<p>'But to whom does that more barren country just beyond belong?' asked
+the Prince. 'And what is that great thick wood I see farther on still?'</p>
+
+<p>'That is the land of Labour and the Forest of Adversity,' said the man.
+'I would advise you to get through them as soon as possible, for the
+first you will find very wearisome, and the second exceedingly
+unpleasant, although people do say that there is a great deal of very
+good fruit in the forest; only one gets well-nigh torn to pieces with
+the thorns before one can reach it.'</p>
+
+<p>The Prince determined to follow his advice, and rode on. There was not
+anything very tempting to him as he passed through the land of Labour,
+and it seemed a long<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> and weary way from the beginning to the end of it.
+But the forest, even at its entrance, was very dark and gloomy indeed.
+Thick trees crossed each other overhead, and shut out the bright,
+cheerful daylight. He could hardly see his way along the narrow,
+tortuous paths, and the thorns which the peasant had spoken of ran into
+him continually, for they grew high as well as thick, and crossed the
+path in every direction. He began heartily to repent that he had quitted
+the palace of Prosperity, and wished himself back again with all his
+heart, thinking that he should care little about yawning Satiety if he
+could but get out of the thorns of Adversity. Indeed, he tried to turn
+his horse back; but he found it more difficult than he imagined, for, as
+I have told you, the road was very narrow and those thorns hedged it on
+every side. There was nothing for it, in short, but to try and force his
+way on through the wood, in the hope of finding something better beyond.</p>
+
+<p>The Prince did not know which way to take, indeed, and he tried a great
+number of paths, but in vain. Still there were the same thorns and the
+same gloomy darkness. He was hungry and thirsty, and he looked round for
+those fruits he had heard of; but he could see none of them at the time,
+and the more he sought his way out, the deeper he seemed to get into the
+forest. The air was very sultry and oppressive, too; he grew weary and
+faint, quite sick at heart, and even the limbs of his good horse seemed
+to be failing him, and hardly able to carry him on.</p>
+
+<p>Dark as it all was, it at length begin to grow darker, and he perceived
+that night was coming, so that the poor Prince began to give up all
+hope, and to think that there would be nothing for him but to lie down
+and die in despair, when suddenly he caught a sort of twinkling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> light
+through the thick bushes, which seemed to lie in the way he was going,
+and on he went, slowly enough, poor man! But still the light was before
+him, till suddenly he came to a great rock, overgrown in many places
+with briars and brambles. In the midst of it, however, was the mouth of
+a large cave, with great masses of stone hanging over, as if ready to
+fall on a traveller's head. It was a very stern and gloomy-looking place
+indeed, with clefts and crevices and ragged crags all around. But a few
+steps in the cave someone seemed to have built themselves a house; for
+it was blocked up with large, unhewn boards of wood, and in this
+partition there was a door and a window, through which came the light he
+had seen. The Prince dismounted from his horse, and though he did not
+know who might be within, he thought it best to knock at the door, and
+ask for food and shelter.</p>
+
+<p>The moment he knocked a loud, hoarse voice cried:</p>
+
+<p>'Come in!' and tying his horse to a tree, he opened the door.</p>
+
+
+<h3>Chapter III</h3>
+
+<p>Now, whatever the poor Prince had expected to find, he was certainly
+disappointed; for that thicket of Adversity is full of disappointments,
+as everyone knows who has travelled through it. He had thought he should
+see some poor woodman or honest peasant, who would welcome him to his
+homely hut in the rock with kindness and benevolence; but instead of
+that he beheld, seated at the table, carving away at a piece of stick by
+the light of a very small twinkling candle, one of the most tremendous
+monsters ever man's eyes lighted upon. In shape he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> was like a man, but
+he was a great deal stronger than any man. His face looked as if it were
+cast in iron, so hard and rigid were all the features; and there was an
+everlasting frown planted on his brow. His hands were long and sinewy,
+with terrible sharp claws upon them; and his feet were so large and
+heavy that they seemed as if they would crush anything they would set
+upon to pieces.</p>
+
+<p>The poor Prince, though he was a very brave young man, stopped and
+hesitated at the sight of this giant; but the monster, without ever
+turning his head, cried out again: 'Come in! Why do you pause? All men
+must obey me, and I am the only one that all men do obey.'</p>
+
+<p>'You must be a mighty monarch, then,' said the young Prince, taking
+courage. 'Pray, what is your name?'</p>
+
+<p>'My name is Necessity,' answered the other in his thundering voice; 'and
+some people give me bad names, and call me "Hard Necessity" and "Dire
+Necessity"; but, nevertheless, I often lead men to great things and
+teach them useful arts if they do but struggle with me valiantly.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then I wish you would lead me to where I can get some rest,' said the
+Prince, 'and teach me how I can procure food for myself and my poor
+famishing horse.'</p>
+
+<p>The monster rose up almost as tall as a steeple and suddenly laid his
+great clutches upon the Prince's shoulders, saying: 'I will do both, if
+you do but wrestle with me courageously. You must do it, for there is no
+other way of escaping from my hands.'</p>
+
+<p>The Prince had never been handled so roughly before, and as he was
+brave, strong, and active, he made a great effort to free himself, and
+tried a thousand ways, but to no purpose. The giant did not hurt him,
+however,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> though he pressed him very hard, and at length he cried out:
+'Ho, ho! you are a brave young man! Leave off struggling, and you shall
+have some food and drink, such as you would never have tasted had you
+not come to me.'</p>
+
+<p>Thereupon he led him to his own coarse wooden table, and set before him
+half of a hard brown loaf and a pitcher of water; but so hungry and
+thirsty was the Prince that the bread seemed to him the best he had ever
+eaten, and the water sweeter than any in the world.</p>
+
+<p>'Unfasten your horse's bridle,' said Necessity, when the Prince had
+done, 'and I will soon teach him where to find something to feed upon.'</p>
+
+<p>The Prince did as the giant told him at once, and then his stern-looking
+companion pointed to a wooden bedstead in a dark corner of the cave,
+which looked as hard as his own face, saying: 'There, lie down and
+sleep.'</p>
+
+<p>'I can never sleep on that thing,' said the Prince.</p>
+
+<p>'Ho, ho!' cried the other; 'Necessity can make any bed soft,' and taking
+a bundle of straw, he threw it down on the bedstead.</p>
+
+
+<h3>Chapter IV</h3>
+
+<p>Sleep was sweeter to the Prince that night than it had ever been upon a
+bed of down, and when he rose the next morning the monster's features
+did not seem half so stern and forbidding as they had done at first. The
+inside of the cave, too, looked much more light and blithesome, though
+it was a dark and frowning place enough still, with hard rock all round,
+and nothing but one window to let in a little sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>Necessity, however, did not intend to keep the Prince<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> there, and as
+soon as he was up the giant said to him: 'Come, trudge; you must quit my
+cave, and go on.'</p>
+
+<p>'You must open the door for me, then,' said the Prince; 'for the bolt is
+so high up I cannot reach it.'</p>
+
+<p>'You cannot get out by the door through which you came in,' said the
+giant, 'for it is the door of Idleness. There is but one way for you to
+get out, and that I will show you.'</p>
+
+<p>So, taking him by the hand, he led him on into a very dark part of the
+cave, which went a long way under ground, and then said to him: 'You
+must now go on until you come to a great house, where you will find an
+old woman, who will give you your meals at least.'</p>
+
+<p>'But I want to return to my own palace of Prosperity,' replied the
+Prince.</p>
+
+<p>'She will show you the way,' replied the monster, 'and without her you
+will never find it. Go on at once, and don't stand talking.'</p>
+
+<p>'But I cannot see the path,' said the Prince.</p>
+
+<p>'You must find it,' said Necessity, and gave him a great push, which
+sent him on at a very rapid rate.</p>
+
+<p>For some time he continued to grope his way almost in darkness, but soon
+a light began to shine before him, which grew bigger and bigger as he
+advanced, and he perceived that he was coming to another mouth of the
+cave, leading to an open, but very rough country. The Prince was very
+glad indeed to issue forth and breathe the fresh air, and he looked at
+the clear sky with great satisfaction. Just before him, however, there
+was a large house, with a great number of doors and windows; and as he
+felt very hungry, he determined to knock, and see if he could get any
+breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>Almost as soon as he had touched the knocker the door was opened by a
+little old woman, plainly dressed, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> neat and tidy; and when the
+Prince told her who he was, and what he wanted, she answered him with a
+good-humoured smile, very different from the frown of stern Necessity:
+'Everyone can have food in my house who chooses to work for it; nobody
+without. I can help you on your way, too; and as for your poor horse you
+talk about, he shall be provided for. My name is Industry, and Industry
+always takes care of her beasts. Come in, young man; come in.'</p>
+
+<p>The Prince went in with a glad step, and found the house quite full of
+people, all as busy as bees in a field of clover, and all looking as
+bright and cheerful as if they had washed their faces in sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>It would take me an hour to tell you all the different things they were
+employed in, everyone working by himself on his separate task, although
+two or three were often seen doing different pieces of the same work.
+But there were two very nice, pretty girls there whom I must speak of,
+who seemed to be handmaidens to the mistress of the house. One was a
+thoughtful-looking, careful girl, who was busy in every part of the room
+alternately, picking up all the little odds and ends which were left
+after any piece of work was completed&mdash;little bits of string, ends of
+tape or thread, stray nails, chips of wood, or pieces of paper. These,
+as soon as she had gathered them up, she put safely by, where she could
+find them again; and it is wonderful how often she was called upon by
+the workmen for some little scrap or another, just sufficient to
+complete what they were about. Her name was Economy.</p>
+
+<p>The other was a brighter, quicker-looking person, with very clear eyes,
+like two stars, who went continually through the room, putting
+everything to rights. If a chair was out of its place, or a table turned
+awry, or a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> tool put down where it should not be she could not bear to
+see it for a minute, but put all things straight again, so that nobody
+was at a loss where to find anything. She was called Order.</p>
+
+<p>The hungry Prince was somewhat mortified to find a good, large piece of
+work assigned him to do before he could get his breakfast, and at first
+he was exceedingly awkward, and did not know how to set about it; but
+Industry showed him the way, Order helped him a good deal, and Economy
+supplied him with the materials.</p>
+
+
+<h3>Chapter V</h3>
+
+<p>At the end of an hour he had completed his task, and the old lady patted
+him on the shoulder, saying, 'Well done; you are a very good young man.
+Now Industry will give you your breakfast, and help you on the way to a
+very nice place, where you will get all you desire.'</p>
+
+<p>Thus saying, she led him into a great hall, where there was a vast
+number of people, all eating rich fruits, with a somewhat hard-favoured
+dame, whom they called Labour, scattering sugar on the different dishes.</p>
+
+<p>When the Prince heard her name, he asked one of the people near if that
+was really Labour, saying, 'I passed through her land not long ago, and
+it seemed so poor and hard a country that I should have thought it
+produced nothing good.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is a mistake,' said the other. 'That is the land where grows the
+sugar-cane, and Labour always sweetens the food of Industry.'</p>
+
+<p>As soon as his breakfast was over, the Prince was taken to another door,
+and shown a road which was very narrow at first, but seemed to grow
+wider and wider as it went on.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'You have nothing to do but to walk straight forward,' said Industry,
+'neither to turn to the right nor to the left. Keep yourself upright, so
+that you may have that distant mountain peak before your eyes, and don't
+suffer yourself to grow faint or get tired. If you should have any doubt
+or difficulty, you will find someone on the road who will show you the
+way. But only remember always to keep straight forward, and don't be
+tempted to turn aside.'</p>
+
+<p>'What is the name of this road?' asked the Prince.</p>
+
+<p>'It is called the "Right Path,"' was the reply; and on he set upon his
+way with a stout heart. Nevertheless, he began to get somewhat tired
+before an hour was over, although the road was pleasant enough to walk
+in. There were beautiful green meadows on every side, and
+richly-coloured flowers, and what seemed very delicious fruit; and here
+and there, at a little distance, were pleasant groves, with a number of
+gay birds, singing very sweetly.</p>
+
+<p>At the end of an hour and a half the Prince became hungry and thirsty
+again, as well as tired, and he said to himself, 'There could be no
+great harm surely in going across that meadow and gathering some of that
+fruit, to eat under the shade of the trees, while the birds sing over my
+head. I do not know how far I have to go. I see no end to this long,
+straight road. I think I will try and rest for a little under those
+trees. I can easily find my way back again.'</p>
+
+<p>But just at that moment, luckily for himself, the Prince spied a man
+trudging on before him, and he hurried after, saying to himself, 'I will
+ask him how far I have to go, and whether I have time to stop.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>Chapter VI</h3>
+
+<p>The man did not walk very fast, but he kept steadily on, with a great
+pike-staff in his hand; and though the Prince called after him as soon
+as he was within hearing, he did not halt for a moment, or even turn his
+head, but trudged onward, saying, 'Come along, come along; one never
+gets to the end of one's journey if one stops to chatter by the way.'</p>
+
+<p>At length the Prince came up with him, and said in a civil tone, 'Pray
+can you tell me whither this road leads, and if it will be very long
+before I get to some house where I can find rest and food.'</p>
+
+<p>'It leads to a very fine and beautiful castle,' replied the other
+somewhat doggedly, and still walking on. 'I think, if you come along
+with me, you will get there in time. I am generally well received there,
+and in some sort may call myself the master of the house, so that those
+who go with me are generally made welcome by my lady, who, though she is
+sometimes a little whimsical, is the most charming person in the world
+when she smiles upon me. But you must keep on steadily with me; for if
+you stop or turn aside, a thousand to one you will be lost.'</p>
+
+<p>When the Prince found him so communicative, he asked him if they could
+not cross one of the meadows to refresh themselves a little, and told
+him how he had been tempted to do so just before he saw him.</p>
+
+<p>'Lucky you did not,' answered the other; 'for those meadows are full of
+swamps and quagmires, the groves filled with snakes, and many of the
+fruits poisonous. You might have got yourself into such troubles that
+not even I could have helped you out of them.'</p>
+
+<p>'If it is not improper, may I ask your name?' said the Prince.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Come along,' answered the other. 'Names matter little; but if you want
+to know mine, it is Perseverance.'</p>
+
+<p>Not long after the Prince began to think he saw several tall towers
+glittering before him in the distance, with some misty clouds round
+about them, which only seemed to make them look the more beautiful.</p>
+
+<p>'What a fine castle!' he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>'That is where I am leading you,' answered the other; and the first
+prospect is always very charming. But we have some way to go yet, I can
+tell you, and not a little to overcome. You would never get there
+without me; so come on, and do not be daunted at anything you see.'</p>
+
+<p>The Prince soon found that his companion's warning was just. The way did
+seem very long; and sometimes, as they went over hill and dale, the
+sight of the beautiful castle, which cheered him so much, was quite shut
+out from his eyes, and at length, when they were coming very near it,
+with nothing but one valley between them and the building, he perceived
+that the road went over a narrow drawbridge, and saw two terrible
+monsters lying close beside the way. Their bodies were like those of
+lions, very large and very strong, but they had necks like that of a
+snake, and from each neck issued a hundred horrible heads, all differing
+in kind from one another.</p>
+
+<p>The poor Prince was alarmed, and said to his companion: 'Do you see
+those horrible brutes? Is there no other way into the castle but between
+them?'</p>
+
+<p>'There are a thousand ways into the castle,' replied his companion, 'but
+every way is guarded by monsters just like those. But do not be alarmed.
+Go on with me, and I will help you. Besides, someone will come out of
+the castle, most likely, to give us assistance.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>Chapter VII</h3>
+
+<p>Upon these words, the Prince went on more cheerfully, especially when he
+saw a man come running down from the gate of the castle as they
+approached the drawbridge.</p>
+
+<p>'Ay,' said his companion, stepping on without stopping a moment, 'there
+comes my friend Courage to help us. He is a good, serviceable fellow.'</p>
+
+<p>Just as he spoke, the two monsters sprang forward, and the one which was
+nearest to Perseverance growled terribly at him; but he struck him a
+blow with his pike-staff, which knocked him down and cowed him entirely;
+and there he lay, with all his hundred heads prostrated in a manner
+which the Prince could hardly have thought possible. The other brute
+sprang right at the Prince himself, as if to destroy him, so that he was
+inclined to draw back; but the man Courage, who had run down from the
+castle, put his foot upon the creature's snaky neck, and crushed it into
+the earth.</p>
+
+<p>'Go on, go on, young man!' he cried. 'These are terrible monsters truly,
+but you see our friend Perseverance has vanquished Difficulty, and I
+have trampled upon Danger.'</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, the Prince passed on rapidly over the drawbridge; and when
+he stood under the gate of the castle, Perseverance took him by the hand
+with a smiling air, and led him in, saying: 'Now I will conduct you to
+my lady, Success.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 395px;">
+<img src="images/i100.jpg" width="395" height="600" alt="The Prince slays the monster with a hundred horrible
+heads.&mdash;Page 86." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>The Prince slays the monster with a hundred horrible
+heads.&mdash;Page 86.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>At the very sound the poor Prince seemed quite refreshed, forgot all the
+weary way he had travelled, the dark forest of Adversity, the grim frown
+of Necessity, the faintness and the weariness, and hundred-headed
+Difficulty and Danger. But he was more rejoiced still when, on entering
+the building, he found himself suddenly, all at once, in the great hall
+of his own palace of Prosperity, with a beautiful lady, all smiles,
+standing ready to receive him with a crown in her hand.</p>
+
+<p>'Come hither, Prince,' she said, 'and receive this crown, which I never
+bestow on any but my greatest favourites. It is called the crown of
+Contentment. I reserve it for those who, led on by Perseverance, come to
+me by the Right Path, in spite of Difficulty and Danger. Those who
+arrive at my presence by any of the many other roads that are open to
+mankind I give over to the charge of some of my inferior attendants,
+such as Pride, Vanity, or Ambition, who amuse themselves by making them
+play all manner of strange tricks.'</p>
+
+<p>Thus saying, she put the crown upon his head, and the Prince found the
+most delightful tranquil feeling spread through his whole body.
+Nevertheless, he could not help looking about almost instantly for the
+figure of the ugly little grey dwarf; and, as he could not see him
+anywhere, he said to the beautiful lady: 'Where is that hideous, yawning
+Satiety? I hope he has left the palace.'</p>
+
+<p>'He may be hanging about in some dark corners of the palace,' answered
+the lady, 'or hiding amongst the roses in your garden of Pleasure; but
+he will never appear in your presence again, so long as you wear that
+crown upon your head; for there is a rich jewel called Moderation in the
+crown of Contentment which is too bright and pure to be looked upon by
+Satiety.'</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p>
+<h2>The Farm-Yard Journal</h2>
+
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i102dc.jpg" width="147" height="150" alt="D" class="cap" />
+
+
+<p class="cap_2">Dear Tom,</p></div>
+
+<p>'Since we parted at the breaking-up, I have been for most of the time at
+a pleasant farm in Hertfordshire, where I have employed myself in
+rambling about the country, and assisting, as well as I could, at the
+work going on at home and in the fields. On wet days, and in the
+evenings, I have amused myself with keeping a journal of all the great
+events that have happened among us; and hoping that when you are tired
+of the bustle of your busy town you may receive some entertainment from
+comparing our transactions with yours, I have copied out for your
+perusal one of the days in my memorandum-book.</p>
+
+<p>'Pray let me know in return what you are doing, and believe me,</p>
+
+
+<p class="right">'Your very affectionate friend,<br />
+
+'<span class="smcap">Richard Markwell.</span>'</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 412px;">
+<img src="images/i103.jpg" width="412" height="600" alt="She kicked up her hind legs, and threw down the
+milk-pail.&mdash;Page 93." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>She kicked up her hind legs, and threw down the
+milk-pail.&mdash;Page 93.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'<i>June 10.</i>&mdash;Last night we had a dreadful alarm. A violent scream was
+heard from the hen-roost; the geese all set up a cackle, and the dogs
+barked. Ned, the boy who lies over the stable, jumped up and ran into
+the yard, when he observed a fox galloping away with a chicken in his
+mouth, and the dogs on full chase after him. They could not overtake
+him, and soon returned. Upon further examination, the large white cock
+was found lying on the ground all bloody, with his comb torn almost off,
+and his feathers all ruffled; and the speckled hen and three chickens
+lay dead beside him. The cock recovered, but appeared terribly
+frightened. It seems that the fox had jumped over the garden hedge, and
+then, crossing part of the yard behind the straw, had crept into the
+hen-roost through a broken pale. John, the carpenter, was sent for to
+make all fast, and prevent the like mischief again.</p>
+
+<p>'Early this morning the brindled cow was delivered of a fine bull-calf.
+Both are likely to do well. The calf is to be fattened for the butcher.</p>
+
+<p>'The duck-eggs that were sitten upon by the old black hen were hatched
+this day, and the ducklings all directly ran into the pond, to the great
+terror of the hen, who went round and round, clucking with all her
+might, in order to call them out, but they did not regard her. An old
+drake took the little ones under his care, and they swam about very
+merrily.</p>
+
+<p>'As Dolly this morning was milking the new cow that was bought at the
+fair she kicked with her hind legs, and threw down the milk-pail, at the
+same time knocking Dolly off her stool into the dirt. For this offence
+the cow was sentenced to have her head fastened to the rack, and her
+legs tied together.</p>
+
+<p>'A kite was observed to hover a long while over the yard with an
+intention of carrying off some of the young chickens; but the hens
+called their broods together under their wings, and the cocks put
+themselves in order of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> battle, so that the kite was disappointed. At
+length one chicken, not minding its mother, but straggling heedlessly to
+a distance, was descried by the kite, who made a sudden swoop, and
+seized it in his talons. The chicken cried out, and the cocks and hens
+all screamed, when Ralph, the farmer's son, who saw the attack, snatched
+up a loaded gun, and just as the kite was flying off with his prey,
+fired and brought him dead to the ground, along with the poor chicken,
+who was killed in the fall. The dead body of the kite was nailed up
+against the wall, by way of warning to his wicked comrades.</p>
+
+<p>'In the forenoon we were alarmed with strange noises approaching us, and
+looking out we saw a number of people with frying pans, warming pans,
+tongs and pokers, beating, ringing, and making all possible din. We soon
+discovered them to be our neighbours of the next farm in pursuit of a
+swarm of bees which was hovering in the air over their heads. The bees
+at length alighted on the tall pear tree in our orchard, and hung in a
+bunch from one of the boughs. A ladder was got, and a man ascending with
+gloves on his hands, and an apron tied over his head, swept them into a
+hive, which was rubbed on the inside with honey and sweet herbs. But as
+he was descending, some bees which had got under his gloves stung him in
+such a manner that he hastily threw down the hive, upon which the
+greater part of the bees fell out, and began in a rage to fly among the
+crowd, and sting all whom they lit upon. Away scampered the people, the
+women shrieking, the children roaring; and poor Adam, who had held the
+hive, was assailed so furiously that he was obliged to throw himself on
+the ground, and creep under the gooseberry bushes. At length the bees
+began to return to the hive, in which the queen bee had remained; and
+after a while, all being quietly settled, a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> cloth was thrown over it,
+and the swarm was carried home.</p>
+
+<p>'About noon three pigs broke into the garden, where they were rioting
+upon the carrots and turnips, and doing a great deal of mischief by
+trampling the beds and rooting up the plants with their snouts, when
+they were spied by old Towzer, the mastiff, who ran among them, and
+laying hold of their long ears with his teeth, made them squeal most
+dismally, and get out of the garden as fast as they could.</p>
+
+<p>'Roger, the ploughman, when he came for his dinner, brought word that he
+had discovered a partridge's nest with sixteen eggs in the home field,
+upon which the farmer went out and broke them all, saying that he did
+not choose to rear birds upon his corn which he was not allowed to
+scratch, but must leave to some qualified sportsman, who would besides
+break down his fences in the pursuit.</p>
+
+<p>'A sheep washing was held this day at the mill-pool, when seven score
+were well washed, and then penned in the high meadow to dry. Many of
+them made great resistance at being thrown into the water, and the old
+ram, being dragged to the brink by a boy at each horn, and a third
+pushing behind, by a sudden spring threw two of them into the water, to
+the great diversion of the spectators.</p>
+
+<p>'Towards the dusk of the evening the Squire's mongrel greyhound, which
+had been long suspected of worrying sheep, was caught in the fact. He
+had killed two lambs, and was making a hearty meal upon one of them,
+when he was disturbed by the approach of the shepherd's boy, and
+directly leaped the hedge and made off. The dead bodies were taken to
+the Squire's, with an indictment of wilful murder against the dog. But
+when they came to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> look for the culprit, he was not to be found in any
+part of the premises, and is supposed to have fled his country through
+consciousness of his heinous offence.</p>
+
+<p>'Joseph, who sleeps in the garret at the old end of the house, after
+having been some time in bed, came downstairs in his shirt, as pale as
+ashes, and frightened the maids, who were going up. It was some time
+before he could tell what was the matter. At length he said he had heard
+some dreadful noises overhead, which he was sure must be made by some
+ghost or evil spirit. Nay, he thought he had seen something moving,
+though he owned he durst hardly lift up his eyes. He concluded with
+declaring that he would rather sit up all night in the kitchen than go
+to his room again. The maids were almost as much alarmed as he, and did
+not know what to do; but the master, overhearing their talk, came out
+and insisted upon their accompanying him to the spot, in order to search
+into the affair. They all went into the garret, and for a while heard
+nothing, when the master ordered the candle to be taken away, and
+everyone to keep quite still. Joseph and the maids stuck close to each
+other, and trembled in every limb. At length a kind of groaning or
+snoring began to be heard, which grew louder and louder, with intervals
+of a strange sort of hissing. "That's it!" whispered Joseph, drawing
+back towards the door. The maids were ready to sink, and even the farmer
+himself was a little disconcerted. The noise seemed to come from the
+rafters near the thatch. In a while, a glimpse of moonlight shining
+through a hole at the place plainly discovered the shadow of something
+stirring, and on looking intently somewhat like feathers were perceived.
+The farmer now began to suspect what the case was, and ordering up a
+short ladder, bid Joseph climb to the spot, and thrust his hand into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>
+the hole. This he did rather unwillingly, and soon drew it back, crying
+loudly that he was bit. However, gathering courage, he put it in again,
+and pulled out a large white owl, another at the same time being heard
+to fly away. The cause of the alarm was now made clear enough, and poor
+Joseph, after being heartily jeered by the maids, though they had been
+as much frightened as he, sneaked into bed again, and the house soon
+became quiet.'</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p>
+<h2>The Fruits of Disobedience</h2>
+
+<h4>or</h4>
+
+<h3>The Kidnapped Child</h3>
+
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i109dc.jpg" width="153" height="150" alt="I" class="cap" />
+
+<p class="cap_3">In a beautiful villa, on the banks of the Medway resided a gentleman
+whose name was Darnley, who had, during the early part of life, filled a
+post of some importance about the Court, and even in its decline
+preserved that elegance of manners which so peculiarly marks a finished
+gentleman.</p></div>
+
+<p>The loss of a beloved wife had given a pensive cast to his features, and
+a seriousness to his deportment, which many people imagined proceeded
+from haughtiness of disposition, yet nothing could be further from Mr.
+Darnley's character, for he was affable, gentle, benevolent, and humane.</p>
+
+<p>His family consisted of an only sister, who, like himself, had lost the
+object of her tenderest affection, but who, in dividing her attention
+between her brother and his amiable children, endeavoured to forget her
+own misfortunes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Darnley's fortune was sufficiently great to enable him to place his
+daughters in the first school in London, but he preferred having them
+under his immediate instruction, and as Mrs. Collier offered to assist
+him in their education he resolved for some years not to engage a
+governess, as Nurse Chapman was one of those worthy creatures to whose
+care he could securely trust them.</p>
+
+<p>An old friend of Mr. Darnley's had recently bought a house at Rochester,
+and that gentleman and his sister were invited to pass a few days there,
+and as Emily grew rather too big for the nurse's management Mrs. Collier
+resolved to make her of the party, leaving Sophia, Amanda, and Eliza
+under that good woman's protection.</p>
+
+<p>It was Mr. Darnley's wish that the young folks should rise early and
+take a long walk every morning before breakfast, but they were strictly
+ordered never to go beyond their own grounds unless their aunt or father
+accompanied them. This order they had frequently endeavoured to persuade
+Nurse Chapman to disregard, but, faithful to the trust reposed in her,
+she always resisted their urgent entreaties.</p>
+
+<p>The morning after Mr. Darnley went to Rochester the poor woman found
+herself thoroughly indisposed, and wholly incapable of rising at the
+accustomed hour. The children, however, were dressed for walking, and
+the nursemaid charged not to go beyond the shrubbery, and they all
+sallied out in high good humour.</p>
+
+<p>'Now, Susan,' said Sophia, as soon as they entered the garden, 'this is
+the only opportunity you may ever have of obliging us. Do let us walk to
+the village, and then you know you can see your father and mother.'</p>
+
+<p>'La, missy!' replied the girl, 'why, you know 'tis as much as my place
+is worth if Nurse Chapman should find out.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Find it out indeed,' said Amanda; 'how do you think she is to find it
+out? Come, do let us go, there's a dear good creature.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, dear, dear Susan, do let us go,' said Eliza, skipping on before
+them, 'and I'll show you the way, for I walked there last summer with
+father.'</p>
+
+<p>Whether it was the wish of obliging the young ladies, or the desire of
+seeing her parents, I cannot pretend to say, but in a luckless hour
+Susan yielded, and the party soon reached the village.</p>
+
+<p>Susan's mother was delighted at seeing her, and highly honoured by the
+young ladies' presence.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, sweet, dear creatures!' said the old woman, 'I must get something
+for them to eat after their long walk, and my oven's quite hot, and I
+can bake them a little cake in a quarter of an hour, and I'll milk Jenny
+in ten minutes.'</p>
+
+<p>The temptation of her hot cake and new milk was not to be withstood, and
+Susan began taking down some smart china cups, which were arranged in
+form upon the mantelpiece, and carefully dusted them for the young
+ladies' use.</p>
+
+<p>Eliza followed the old woman into the cowhouse, and began asking a
+thousand questions, when her attention was suddenly attracted by the
+appearance of a tame lamb, who went up bleating to its mistress with a
+view of asking its accustomed breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>'You must wait a little, Billy,' said the woman, 'and let your betters
+be served before you. Don't you see that we have got gentlefolks to
+breakfast with us this morning?'</p>
+
+<p>Eliza was so delighted with the beauty of the little animal that she
+wanted to kiss it, and attempted to restrain it for that purpose, whilst
+Billy, ungrateful for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> her intended kindness, gave a sudden spring and
+frisked away.</p>
+
+<p>Eliza followed in hopes of being able to catch him, but he ran baaing
+along into the high road.</p>
+
+<p>A woman whose appearance was descriptive of poverty but whose smiling
+countenance indicated good nature, at that moment happened to pass, and,
+accosting Eliza in a tone of familiarity, said: 'That's not half such a
+pretty lamb, miss, as I have got at home, and not a quarter so tame, for
+if you did but say, Bob, he'd follow you from one end of the town to the
+other, and then he'll fetch and carry like a dog, stand up on his hind
+legs, when my husband says "Up" for the thing, and play more tricks than
+a young kitten.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, the pretty creature,' replied Eliza, 'how I should like to see it!'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, come along with me, miss,' said the woman, 'for I only lives just
+across the next field, but you must run as hard as you can, because my
+husband is going to work, and he generally takes Bob with him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, make haste, then,' said Eliza.</p>
+
+<p>'Give me your hand, miss,' replied the woman; 'for we can run faster
+together. But there goes my husband, I declare; and there's Bob, as
+usual, skipping on before.'</p>
+
+<p>'Where? where?' exclaimed Eliza, stretching her little neck as far as
+she possibly could, to see if she could discern the lamb.</p>
+
+<p>'You are not tall enough,' said the artful creature; 'but let me lift
+you up, miss, and then I dare say you will see them;' and, instantly
+catching her up, she cried out: 'Look directly towards the steeple,
+miss; but I'll run with you in my arms, and I warrant we'll soon
+overtake them.'</p>
+
+<p>Eliza looked, but looked in vain, and, perceiving the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> woman had soon
+carried her out of sight of the cottage, begged she would set her down,
+as she dare not go any farther.</p>
+
+<p>The vile creature was absolutely incapable of replying, for her breath
+was nearly exhausted by the rapidity of the motion, and Eliza continued
+entreating her to stop, and struggled violently to elude her grasp.</p>
+
+<p>At length, after a quarter of an hour's exertion, the woman found
+herself incapable of proceeding, and stopped suddenly, sat down on a
+bank, keeping tight hold of Eliza's arms, who cried dreadfully, and
+besought her to let her go.</p>
+
+<p>'Let you go!' she replied; 'what, after all the plague I've had to knap
+you? No, no, you don't catch me at that, I promise you; but be a good
+girl, and don't cry, and then you may see Bob by-and-by, perhaps.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, my sisters! my sisters! Let me go to my sisters!' cried the child.</p>
+
+<p>'I'll find plenty of sisters for you in a few days,' said the vile
+creature; 'but they won't know you in them there fine clothes; so let's
+pull them off in a minute, and then we'll have another run after Bob.'</p>
+
+<p>So saying, she stripped off the white frock, hat, and tippet. The rest
+of the things shared the same fate, and she was compelled to put on some
+old rags which the inhuman creature took out of a bag she carried under
+her petticoat; then, taking a bottle of liquid from the same place, she
+instantly began washing Eliza's face with it, and, notwithstanding all
+her remonstrances, cut her beautiful hair close to her head.</p>
+
+<p>Thus metamorphosed, it would have been impossible even for Mr. Darnley
+to have known his child, and they proceeded onward until her little legs
+would carry her no farther. At this period they were overtaken by the
+Canterbury waggon, and for a mere trifle the driver consented to let
+them ride to London. Eliza's tears continued to flow, but she dared not
+utter a complaint, as her inhuman companion protested she would break
+every bone in her skin if she ventured to make the least noise.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 393px;">
+<img src="images/i114.jpg" width="393" height="600" alt="Cut her beautiful hair close to her head.&mdash;Page 102." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>>Cut her beautiful hair close to her head.&mdash;Page 102.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>When they arrived in town, she was dragged (for to walk she was unable)
+to a miserable hole down several steps, where they gave her some bread
+and butter to eat, and then desired her to go to bed.</p>
+
+<p>The bed, if such it might be called, was little else than a bundle of
+rags thrown into a corner of the room, with a dirty blanket spread
+across it; and there she was left by her inhuman kidnapper to mourn her
+misfortunes and lament having disregarded her father's injunctions.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning she was forced to rise the moment it was light, and to
+walk as far as her little legs would carry her before they stopped
+anywhere to take refreshment. The second night was passed in a barn, and
+about five o'clock the third afternoon they knocked at the door of a
+neat-looking cottage, where nine or ten children were sitting in a
+little room making lace.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, Peggy,' said the woman, as she opened the door, 'I thought you
+never would have come again! However, I see you have got me a hand at
+last, and God knows I'm enough in want of her; for two of my brats have
+thought proper to fall sick, and I have more to do than ever I had in my
+life.'</p>
+
+<p>On the following day Eliza's filthy rags were all taken off, and she was
+dressed in a tidy, brown stuff gown, a nice clean round-eared cap, and a
+little coloured bib and apron; and she was ordered, if any person asked
+her name, to say it was Biddy Bullen, and that she was niece to the
+woman who employed her.</p>
+
+<p>The severity with which all this wretch's commands were enforced wholly
+prevented any of the helpless victims<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> who were under her protection
+from daring to disobey them; and though most of them were placed under
+her care by the same vile agent who had decoyed Eliza, yet they were all
+tutored to relate similar untruths.</p>
+
+<p>But I now think it is high time to carry my little readers back to the
+cottage scene, where Susan was arranging things in order for breakfast,
+and Sophia and her sister were anxiously watching the moment when the
+cake was pronounced completely ready.</p>
+
+<p>The old woman soon returned with the milk-pail on her arm, and Susan
+eagerly demanded: 'Where's Miss Eliza?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, the pretty creature!' replied her mother, 'she'll be here in a
+minute, I warrant her; but she has gone skipping after our Billy, and
+the two sweet innocents they are together.'</p>
+
+<p>She then went to the oven, produced the cake, and began buttering it
+with all expedition, whilst Sophia joyously ran to the door of the
+cowhouse, and began loudly calling her sister Eliza.</p>
+
+<p>No answer being returned, Susan began to feel alarmed, but the young
+ladies told her not to be frightened, as they knew it was only one of
+Eliza's pranks. But, alas! too soon were they convinced it was no joke,
+but some dreadful misfortune must have happened.</p>
+
+<p>'Miss Eliza! Miss Eliza!' was vociferated through the village, not only
+by Susan and her mother, but by all the neighbours who had heard of the
+calamity, whilst her sisters ran about frantic with grief, crying,
+'Eliza, my love! my darling! Oh, if you are hid, for pity's sake speak!'</p>
+
+<p>Nurse Chapman got up about half-past nine, and, hearing the children
+were not returned from their walk, sent the housemaid directly after
+them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The garden, the shrubbery, and the lawn were all searched without
+success; and just as Betty was returning to inform the nurse they were
+not to be found, she perceived Susan and the two children enter a little
+green gate at the bottom of the shrubbery.</p>
+
+<p>'Where's Miss Eliza?' called Betty, in a voice as loud as she could
+articulate.</p>
+
+<p>'God knows! God knows!' replied the careless girl, sobbing so loud she
+could scarcely speak.</p>
+
+<p>'How! where! when!' said the others. 'Why, poor nurse will go stark,
+staring mad!'</p>
+
+<p>By that time the poor woman had quitted her room, and walked into the
+garden to see what had become of her little charges; and, not directly
+missing Eliza from the group, which was then fast approaching towards
+the house, she called out:</p>
+
+<p>'Come, my dear children&mdash;come along! I thought you would never have
+returned again.' And, observing Eliza was not with them, she continued:
+'But, Susan, what's become of my sweet bird? Where's my little darling,
+Miss Eliza?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, nurse! nurse!' said Sophia, 'my sister's lost! indeed she's lost!'</p>
+
+<p>'Lost!' exclaimed the poor old woman&mdash;'lost! What do you tell me? What
+do I hear? Oh, my master! my dear master! never shall I bear to see his
+face again!'</p>
+
+<p>Susan then repeated every circumstance just as has been related, and
+with sighs and tears bewailed her own folly in suffering herself to be
+over-persuaded. And the children declared they dare not encounter their
+father's displeasure.</p>
+
+<p>The menservants were instantly summoned, and sent on horseback different
+ways. That she had been stolen admitted of no doubt, as there was no
+water near the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> cottage; and had any accident happened, they must have
+found her, as they had searched every part of the village before they
+ventured to return home.</p>
+
+<p>One servant was sent to Rochester, another towards London, and a third
+and fourth across the country roads; but no intelligence could be
+obtained, or the slightest information gathered, by which the
+unfortunate child could be found, or her wicked decoyer's footsteps
+traced.</p>
+
+<p>When Mr. Darnley was apprised of the calamitous event, the agitation of
+his mind may be easily conceived, but can never be described.</p>
+
+<p>Handbills were instantly circulated all over the country, the child's
+person described, and a reward of five hundred guineas offered for her
+restoration.</p>
+
+<p>Sophia and Amanda were inconsolable, and Susan was ordered to be
+discharged before Mr. Darnley returned home, which he did not for more
+than a month after the melancholy circumstance happened, as he was not
+satisfied with sending messengers in pursuit of his lost treasure, but
+went himself to all those wretched parts of London where poverty and
+vice are known to dwell, in the hope of meeting the object of his
+solicitude, and at length gave up the interesting pursuit, because he
+found his health rendered him incapable of continuing it.</p>
+
+<p>Nine tedious months passed away without any intelligence of the lost
+Eliza; and time, which is a general remedy for all misfortunes, had not
+softened the severity of their affliction. Mrs. Collier had engaged a
+lady to be governess to her nieces, as her attention had been wholly
+devoted to her unfortunate brother, whose agitated state of mind had
+produced a bodily complaint which demanded her unremitting care and
+tenderness.</p>
+
+<p>Although Emily loved Eliza with the fondest affection, yet her grief was
+much less poignant than either of her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> sisters', as she could not accuse
+herself with being accessory to her loss.</p>
+
+<p>'Never, never shall I forgive myself,' Sophia would often say, 'for
+having deviated from my dear father's command! Oh, so good and indulgent
+as he is to us, how wicked it was to transgress his will! I was the
+eldest, and ought to have known better, and my poor Eliza is the
+sufferer for my crime!'</p>
+
+<p>Thus would she bewail her folly and imprudence, until, agonized by the
+torture of her own reflections, she would sink down in a chair quite
+exhausted, and burst into a flood of tears.</p>
+
+<p>While the family at Darnley Hall were thus a prey to unavailing sorrow,
+the lovely little girl who had occasioned it was beginning to grow more
+reconciled to the cruelty of her destiny, and to support her different
+mode of life with resignation and composure. She had acquired such a
+degree of skill in the art of lacemaking (which was the business her
+employer followed) as generally to be able to perform the tasks which
+were allotted her; and if it so happened she was incapable of doing it,
+Sally Butchell, a child almost two years older than herself, of whom she
+was very fond, was always kind enough to complete it for her.</p>
+
+<p>The cottage in which the vile Mrs. Bullen resided was situated about a
+quarter of a mile from High Wycombe; and whenever she was obliged to go
+to that place, either to purchase or to dispose of her goods, she always
+went either before her family were up, or after they had retired to
+rest, locking the door constantly after her, and putting the key in her
+pocket, so that the poor little souls had no opportunity of telling
+their misfortunes to any human creature.</p>
+
+<p>One intense hot afternoon, in the month of August,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> as the children were
+sitting hard at work with the door open for the sake of air, an elderly
+lady and gentleman walked up to it, and begged to be accommodated with a
+seat, informing Mrs. Bullen their carriage had broke down a mile
+distant, and they had been obliged to walk in the heat of the sun.</p>
+
+<p>The appearance of so many children, all industriously employed, was a
+sight particularly pleasing to the liberal-minded Mrs. Montague, and she
+immediately began asking the woman several questions about them; but
+there was something of confusion in her manner of replying that called
+forth Mrs. Montague's surprise and astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>'They really are lovely children, my dear,' said she, turning to Mr.
+Montague, who had stood at the door watching the approach of the
+carriage, which he perceived coming forward; 'and as to that little
+creature with the mole under her left eye, I declare I think it is a
+perfect beauty.'</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montague turned his head, and regarded Eliza with a look that at
+once proved that his sentiments corresponded with those of his lady.</p>
+
+<p>'What is your name, my love?' said he, in a tone of kindness which poor
+Eliza had long been a stranger to.</p>
+
+<p>The child coloured like scarlet, and looked immediately at her inhuman
+employer, who, catching the contagion, replied with evident marks of
+confusion:</p>
+
+<p>'Her name is Biddy Bullen, sir; she's my niece; but 'tis a poor timid
+little fool, and is always in a fright when gentlefolks happen to speak
+to her. Go, Biddy,' she continued&mdash;'go up into my bedroom, and mind that
+thread which you'll find upon the reel.'</p>
+
+<p>'You should try to conquer that timidity,' said Mr. Montague, 'by making
+her answer every stranger who speaks to her; but by taking that office
+upon yourself,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> you absolutely encourage the shyness you complain of.
+Come hither, my little girl,' continued he, observing she was retiring
+upstairs, 'and tell the lady what your name is.'</p>
+
+<p>Encouraged by the kindness of Mr. Montague's address, the agitated child
+obeyed the summons, although Mrs. Bullen attempted to force her into
+resistance.</p>
+
+<p>'Well,' continued the old gentleman, patting her on the cheek, 'and
+where did you get that pretty mole?'</p>
+
+<p>'My mother gave it me, sir,' replied the blushing child; 'but I did not
+see her do it, because Nurse Chapman told me she went to heaven as soon
+as I was born.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your mother! And what was your mother's name?' said Mr. Montague.</p>
+
+<p>'Darnley, sir,' said the child, and suddenly recollecting the lesson
+that had been taught her; 'but my name is Biddy Bullen, and that is my
+aunt.'</p>
+
+<p>'Darnley!' exclaimed Mrs. Montague&mdash;'the very child that has been for
+these twelve months past advertised in all the papers'&mdash;then turning to
+convince herself of the fact&mdash;'and the very mole confirms it.'</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montague immediately attempted to secure the woman, but her activity
+eluded his grasp, and darting out at the back door she was out of sight
+in a few moments.</p>
+
+<p>'Is she really gone? Is she gone?' all the little voices at once
+demanded, and upon Mr. Montague's assuring them she was really gone for
+ever, their joy broke out in a thousand different ways&mdash;some cried, some
+laughed, and others jumped. In short, there never was a scene more
+completely calculated to interest the feelings of a benevolent heart.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montague's carriage at this period arrived, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> the footman was
+desired to fetch a magistrate from Wycombe, whilst the worthy clergyman
+resolved to remain there until his arrival, and began questioning all
+the children. Two had been there from so early a period that they could
+give no account of their name or origin, but all the rest were so clear
+in their description that the benevolent Mr. Montague had no doubt of
+being able to restore them to their afflicted parents.</p>
+
+<p>The magistrate soon arrived, attended by the worthy rector of the place,
+who, hearing from Mr. Montague's servant that a child had been stolen
+came with the intent of offering his services.</p>
+
+<p>All but Eliza were immediately put under his protection, but Mrs.
+Montague was so anxious she should be their earliest care that she
+begged her husband to order a post-chaise directly, and set off
+immediately for town. This request was willingly complied with, and by
+three o'clock the next afternoon the party arrived at Darnley Hall.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Collier was standing at the window when the carriage stopped, and
+looking earnestly at her niece suddenly exclaimed in a tone of rapture:
+'My child! My child! My lost Eliza!'</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Darnley, who was reading, sprang from his seat, and flew to the door
+in an ecstasy of joy. In less than a minute he returned folding his
+Eliza to his throbbing heart. The joyful intelligence ran through the
+house, and the other children impatiently flew to this scene of
+transport.</p>
+
+<p>To describe their feelings or express their felicity would require the
+aid of the most descriptive pen, and even then would be but faintly
+told, and therefore had much better be passed over.</p>
+
+<p>From that moment the children all unanimously agreed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> strictly to attend
+to their father's orders, and never in the slightest instance act in
+opposition to his will.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. and Mrs. Montague were laden with caresses, and earnestly entreated
+to remain Mr. Darnley's guests. The hospitable invitation would have
+been gladly accepted had not the thoughts of the poor children who were
+still at Wycombe seemed to claim his immediate attention, and so great
+was the philanthropy of Mr. Montague's character that he could never
+rest satisfied if a single duty remained unfulfilled.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p>
+<h2>The Rose's Breakfast</h2>
+
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i124dc.jpg" width="149" height="150" alt="T" class="cap" />
+
+<p class="cap_2">The shrubs and flowers, having heard of the Peacock At Home, the
+Butterfly's Ball, and Grasshopper's Feast, Elephant's Ball, and many
+others of equal celebrity, and having been themselves of late much
+introduced into the assemblies of <i>Ton</i>, grew so vain as to wish to have
+a gala of their own. They were aware of their want of the organs of
+speech, but knowing they had plenty of Ladies' Tongue among them, and
+that crowded parties neither afforded gratification to the mind, or
+allowed opportunity for conversation, and as they could shake their
+leaves at each other, as well as fine ladies could their heads, they
+were perfectly satisfied with their powers to entertain.</p></div>
+
+<p>As all their refreshments were composed from air, earth, and water it
+was determined that a fine summer's day after a reviving shower, would
+afford ample regale for a breakfast, which was to begin, like all
+fashionable ones, late in the afternoon, that the genteel flowers might
+be awake. Mrs. Honeysuckle first proposed giving one, but her husband
+was a Dutchman, and would not agree to the bustle and expense, and not
+choosing the risk<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> of separation she for once yielded, and Mrs. Rose,
+being in high beauty, determined to send out her fragrance to invite the
+company, provided she could procure the consent of Mr. Pluto Rose;
+indeed, he never interfered with the pursuits of his wife; he only
+declared he should not appear, and as he was a very dark-looking rose
+without any sweet she was delighted at this declaration, but, though
+much admired in her own little circle, she was unknown in the great
+World, and she was sensible that unless some of the leaders of the <i>Ton</i>
+were present her breakfast would be regarded with contempt; she
+therefore consulted two of her friends, Lady Acacia and Mrs. Larch, and
+got Mr. Plane from the east to secure the attendance of his party.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Acacia had just got her niece Robina from America, whom she was
+very solicitous to have properly introduced, having kept very
+indifferent company in her own country, and being handsome, she aspired
+to settling her well. She, of course, aided all in her power to promote
+Mrs. Rose's scheme, and, by being in a higher circle, offered to get all
+the Forest Trees to attend except Lord Oak; but she knew he never
+condescended to go to such meetings. Mrs. Larch, from her connections,
+promised her influence with all the Cedars and Firs, though she was sure
+her cousin from Lebanon would not come, but all the rest yielded easily
+to her entreaties. Mrs. Rose was delighted with the success of Lady
+Acacia and Mrs. Larch in their solicitations with the Forest and Fir
+Trees, whose majestic appearance and respectable characters she imagined
+would dignify her f&ecirc;te, never considering her own littleness might
+appear to them despicable; but from them she had nothing to fear, as
+they were too well bred to attend any meeting to ridicule it. 'Tis true
+when they did grace a public entertainment<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> they kept chiefly together,
+and never so far forgot their consequence as to oppress a humble flower,
+or stoop to notice a forward insignificant one even in the gayest
+attire.</p>
+
+<p>There was an elegant lightness of drapery in Mrs. Birch's dress, but
+poor Lady Aspen had certainly a very trifling way with her in shaking
+continually her leaves, which sounded as if she was tittering at
+everything around. Old Lord Elm was hurt at it, and often hinted to her
+ladyship how improper such behaviour would have been deemed in former
+times. It was, poor thing, in her a natural weakness which she could not
+amend, and it had been copied by some inferior plants who had ignorantly
+supposed it the height of good breeding.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Rose, with all her charms, could not aspire to become one of the
+Forest set, though she had hopes she might be reckoned a descendant from
+the famous Roses so well known in the reigns of some of our Henrys,
+Edwards, and Richard III., though she assuredly was of a very different
+extraction; indeed, it was said that she was bred up in a cottage
+garden, but had passed one winter in the hothouse, by which she was
+greatly elated, and now thought from that circumstance she was secure in
+having a large party from thence, not knowing the prejudice it was to
+memory and sight to be constantly for any length of time in such
+artificial air. Had it not been for this breakfast bringing Mrs. Rose
+into notice she would have been totally forgotten by them, but her
+invitation made them soon recollect the dear little creature, and as
+every offer of accommodation was made to entice them to attend, even to
+the promise of being placed near the Burning Bush: for that whatever is
+difficult to obtain is always peculiarly desirable to possess was not
+unknown in the hothouse. Notwithstanding that most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> of its inhabitants,
+except Lady Sensitive and a few others (who were really too delicate to
+venture out), all anxiously wished to be at Mrs. Rose's, yet they seemed
+to make the waiting on her a very great favour, and their terms vexed
+her greatly&mdash;namely, the excluding of many of the common plants or
+natives as they termed them which prevented her from asking some of her
+old acquaintance and near connections, with whom till now she had lived
+in habits of intimacy; besides she had wished to have shown her taste
+and consequence to them, having thorns enough on her stem to have
+pleasure in exciting a little envy; but being afraid these connections
+should be known she excluded every friend she was requested to do, and
+thus the Sweet Briar and many of that rank were left out, yet several
+weeds had the effrontery to get in.</p>
+
+<p>As the hothouse plants always keep together when they do come out, they,
+as usual, did so at Mrs. Rose's, following their constant plan of
+apparent dissatisfaction at everything they met with, and quizzing most
+shamefully all the company. The greenhouse plants in winter follow the
+example of the hothouse in living in their own circle, but at this
+season mix more generally, though, alas! they were nearly as much
+inclined as the hothouse party to quizzing. Mrs. Myrtle and Lady
+Orange-tree promised to chaperon the Misses Heath and the Misses
+Geranium&mdash;that is, such as were properly accomplished by having had a
+greenhouse education; but the poor relations of these two families,
+which I am forced to confess were many, were not asked. Lord
+Heliotropium and Mr. Monkeyplant were their welcome attendants.</p>
+
+<p>The Evergreens of rank were invited, the females of whom are charged
+with being fond of showing themselves, and are usually to be seen in the
+front of plantations.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> Hitherto they had despised the fickleness of
+fashion, and had never modernized their dress enough to seem thinly clad
+even in the winter, and now they could not reconcile themselves to such
+a change, which, in fact, did them honour, though a few of the weakest
+and vainest among them rather lamented it, but the wiser valued their
+foliage as a great addition to beauty and elegance, and justly
+reprobated the prevailing <i>Ton</i> of transparent clothing as very
+pernicious to health. Mrs. Arbutus was particularly unlucky in having
+sent all her jewels away for the summer, but Lady Portugal Laurel and a
+few others ornamented their usual green dresses very prettily with
+white, and her ladyship was allowed to make a sweet figure, whilst the
+correctness of her appearance gained her respect and admiration.</p>
+
+<p>Many Laurels were invited, but in this country they are so numerous, and
+of such rapid growth, and such flourishing plants, that it was
+absolutely impossible to collect as many of them as could be desired,
+and some old veterans declined attending. The Cypresses in general sent
+excuses, being confined by the loss of a friend, which was thought
+rather an uncommon reason for confinement. Mr. Stock was also prevented
+by a pre-engagement in the alley; he was a remarkably rich, showy
+flower, or he would not have been invited, yet he was known to possess
+more intrinsic merit before he had acquired so many petals. Dr. Yew
+would not leave his church, nor Dr. Palma Christi his patients; indeed,
+their absence was not at all regretted, it being owing to a mistake that
+they were asked. The Ladies Weeping Willow stayed away with the Misses
+Weeping Ash to mourn over the vanities of the world, which greatly
+alarmed and distressed them.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Passion-Flower sent her excuses, being enraged she was not
+consulted on the occasion, as she would have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> deferred the meeting until
+she had regained her bloom. Most of the Shrubs that were invited
+attended, and the Duchess of Syringa and the Ladies Lilac looked
+beautiful. It was a disputed point whether Lady White Lilac or her
+sister was the handsomer, yet some of the party were so ill-humoured as
+to hint they were fading. Lord Laburnum came with them. Some bulbous
+roots were admitted, and Mrs. Lily made as engaging a figure as anyone;
+her headdress was simply elegant, the petals white with yellow stamens
+forming a very rich coral. The sweet Misses Lily of the Valley could not
+be tempted from their retreat.</p>
+
+<p>Lord Tulip was particularly noticed, his coral being diversified in a
+most superb manner, and as dress among <i>Ton beaux</i> now is neglected he
+made a very surprising appearance, though by it he gained great respect;
+perhaps he carried it too far, as marked singularity is never advisable,
+yet a certain attention to dress, consistent with station, is requisite,
+and had it not been for his coral Lord Tulip would have been passed by
+in the crowd, or turned out as a weed. He came with the Duchess of
+Hyacinth, which was rather particular, but it was little regarded, and
+the Duke was blamed for not properly estimating her Grace's charms.</p>
+
+<p>There were some perennials asked, but Mrs. Rose was obliged to forget
+many of them, yet Miss Scabious was there, though not yet come out,
+flirting shamefully with young Lychnis, who was waiting for his ensigncy
+to get out his scarlet coat. Mrs. Rose made a point of inviting Mr.
+Monkshood because she would not appear to have any prejudices, though it
+is well known to be a poisonous plant, but its evil properties were to
+her and her friends of no consequence as they had never reflected on
+serious subjects. She also pressed the attendance of several<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> annuals of
+showy appearance. Intrinsic merit had no value with her, who had no
+guide but fashion, and was ambitious only of becoming a leader in
+dissipation or a patroness of talent, which would be the means of making
+her ridiculous, and the dupe of presuming ignorance.</p>
+
+<p>The annuals, though they flourished but for a short time, were often
+during that period greatly caressed, yet never lamented when they
+disappeared; in short, they were made subservient to the powers of
+others, which Mr. Coxcomb, the painted Lady Pea, and some more were too
+vain to discover, and whilst they were frequently amused in quizzing all
+around never suspected they were deservedly greater objects of ridicule
+themselves. Very few of the Creepers were invited except those that
+belonged to the hothouse or greenhouse, and the sharpness of Lady Cereus
+made Mrs. Rose wish even to have avoided her company, but she would not
+be put off. Mrs. Bramble was very sharp at not being invited, thinking
+she had as good a right as Mrs. Ivy, whom she accused as being one of
+those sycophants that push themselves into high life by clinging to
+greatness, and thus getting into the first circle without being
+respected in or out of it; indeed, there was amongst many of the party a
+good deal of satire. Mrs. Rose herself was a little formed of it, but
+her sweetness was allowed to blunt the force of her thorn, and made it
+even regarded as pleasing, whilst Mrs. Holly was disliked for her
+general sharpness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 410px;">
+<img src="images/i131.jpg" width="410" height="600" alt="The sweet Misses Lilies of the Valley could not be
+tempted from their retreat.&mdash;Page 119." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>The sweet Misses Lilies of the Valley could not be
+tempted from their retreat.&mdash;Page 119.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>All the Auriculas that had been applauded on the stage were wonderfully
+sought after by Mrs. Rose as being now generally in all <i>Ton</i>
+assemblies, and they were always ready to accept these invitations, but
+their season of exhibition was now over, and they were gone strolling
+about for the remainder of the year. The Ladies Carnation were all
+asked, and some of their cousins, the Misses Pink, were particularly
+named (not having accommodations for all the family), and such of the
+Misses Pink as came were chaperoned by their near relations, Mr. and
+Mrs. Sweet-William; but the Ladies Carnation were obliged to
+refuse&mdash;they were afraid they should not be come out in time, and if
+they were must attend a county meeting with their guardian.</p>
+
+<p>There were no invitations sent into the kitchen garden or orchard,
+notwithstanding the elegant simplicity of many of the inhabitants, and
+the general propriety of their conduct, but they were all voted quizzes
+for their usefulness in society and their attention to domestic
+concerns. They were vain of this neglect, regarding it as a proof of
+their merit, and as they lived comfortably together were happy and
+contented, and far more easy and cheerful than the more dissipated
+societies. Mrs. Onion, it must be allowed, took it as a slight, but she
+was the only one that did, and she, presuming upon the having been much
+at great dinners, imagined she must be qualified for any breakfast, not
+considering she generally was obliged to go to them disguised or hid by
+a veil, but she was a proof of the errors of self knowledge, as she
+thought her scent far preferable to Mrs. Rose's.</p>
+
+<p>The rest of the kitchen garden really wished to avoid mixing with the
+<i>Ton</i>, among whom they justly allowed were many very valuable plants;
+every class and order in this country may boast of them. The natural
+soil is good, and much pains is bestowed on proper culture, yet in the
+circles of dissipation there was reason to fear their health and good
+habits might be injured, particularly as attempts had been made to
+disseminate baneful seeds, though hitherto they had been kept down by
+care and attention. Mrs. Apple-Tree, Mr. Cherry, Miss Currant,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> Miss
+Gooseberry, the Beans, Peas, Potatoes, and Cabbages well knew their own
+value, and despised the weak ambition of those who force themselves into
+company they were not designed for.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Rose would have liked to have got at the Mint, but it was so well
+guarded by the Sages that she dared not make the attempt, knowing it
+would be useless, and she could not presume to ask the Sages, or would
+have been delighted to have had them&mdash;that is, all the family but Common
+Sage, well imagining how much consequence she might acquire by even the
+appearance of such an acquaintance, yet it was an absurd idea, as she
+had not the smallest relish for their taste or anything Sage-like about
+her, and the wish to be thought to possess talents she did not would, as
+it always does, have made her contemptible to those who really have
+them. True knowledge is highly valuable and respectable, but the
+ignorant pretenders to it only make themselves objects of ridicule. Mrs.
+Rose was fortunate enough to get some of the Bays brought to her, and
+she thus trusted to have her breakfast properly celebrated in a poem
+dedicated to the Rose Unique.</p>
+
+<p>The bog plants had all contrived to be in the <i>Ton</i>, and the Misses
+Rhododendron and the Misses Kalmia were greatly admired.</p>
+
+<p>The breakfast was given on a beautiful green lawn, tastefully decorated,
+in the middle of which was a fine piece of water, with a fountain
+continually playing. Around were heaps of various sorts of soils, many
+procured at great distances at an enormous expense. The Buttercups and
+Dandelions waited on the lawn in full yellow liveries, and the Daisies,
+dressed neatly in a uniform of white with yellow ornaments, were as
+female servants to give the refreshments to the waiters, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>
+Foxgloves in red uniforms presided over the whole. The Trumpet Flowers
+were numerous; indeed, there was no other music, and there was no
+regular dancing, though many pretty groups dispersed about.</p>
+
+<p>The crowd was very great, and the company did not leave the lawn till
+late, many of them exceedingly fatigued, and drooping with their
+exertions, and poor Mrs. Poppy was so much inclined to sleep as to
+distress the Misses Larkspur and Lupin that came with her, and Sir
+Laurus Tinus got much squeezed in getting the Marchioness Magnolia, a
+most charming creature, and the Miss Phillyreas away, and Lady Cistus
+left all her petals behind her.</p>
+
+<p>Admiral Flag and Lady Peony were detained much longer than they wished
+in settling a dispute that had nearly ended in a challenge between
+Captain Waterdock and Colonel Jasmine about the antiquities of their
+families, which had so seriously terrified Lady Azorian Jasmine that she
+would have fainted but for the tender attention of Mrs. Lavender. The
+Colonel was certainly wrong, as the Water-docks are well known to be a
+very ancient family in Great Britain. It is much to be regretted that
+there is so often such a mistaken idea of courage even amongst the most
+respectable orders, abounding with the truest honour, and noblest
+spirit, as to cause duels on the most trifling subjects, thus involving
+their families in distress and themselves in the greatest misery.</p>
+
+<p>There was waiting on the outside of the lawn at Mrs. Rose's many of the
+Umbellate tribe, that in case sun or rain should be too powerful their
+Umbels might be useful, and, indeed, many other plants were mixed among
+them. Mrs. Mignonette, the milliner, a sweet little creature, was there
+to learn fashions; she had brought with her one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> of her favourites,
+Venus's Looking-glass, whom she found of great service in her shop. The
+Nettles, Thistles, and Furze were very troublesome. The Thrifts were
+also on the outside, as Mrs. Rose and they were totally unacquainted,
+but she had given great offence to many whom she had neglected that she
+very well knew, some even intimately, and the Misses Crocus, Violet,
+Jonquil, and Mrs. Almond she did not ask, because their beauty was gone
+by. She had also her disappointments in receiving excuses from many
+whose presence she wished for. Amongst these was Mr. and Mrs.
+Heartsease, most valuable plants; indeed, she had thought herself sure
+of their company, and they had intended waiting on her. At all
+entertainments of every kind they are expected, and they generally
+accept the invitations they receive, but before the day of engagement
+arrives they are obliged to send their excuses, owing to indisposition,
+which keeps them confined to a small circle of friends.</p>
+
+<p>Some of the party at Mrs. Rose's were delighted; others only aimed to be
+thought pleased, but alas! too many were inclined to quiz the breakfast,
+Mrs. Rose, and everything they saw or met with, yet even these to her
+pretended the greatest felicity at what they partook of, and the
+sincerest regard and esteem for her, and were absurdly lavish in the
+admiration of her taste, and after all poor Mrs. Rose was so fatigued
+that she was attended for a considerable time by Doctor Gardener, and
+could associate with no other plant but her maid Valerian, having so
+completely lost her bloom by her dissipation that she came out no more
+this season, though she had sufficient foliage to ensure her life, and
+much more than suited her ideas of Tonish appearance, for,
+notwithstanding the slights she received in her confinement, when she
+could be of no use to the gay world, and her own<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> sufferings, she still
+possessed so much vanity and lightness of manner that it was with the
+greatest difficulty the doctor could keep her properly clothed, though
+he explained to her its necessity, as did Mr. Pluto Rose its propriety,
+but she was a slave to fashion, and nearly became one of its martyrs.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p>
+<h2>The Three Cakes</h2>
+
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i137dc.jpg" width="145" height="150" alt="T" class="cap" />
+
+
+<p class="cap_2">There was a little boy named Henry,' said Mr. Glassington, 'about your
+age. His parents had but lately fixed him at a boarding-school.'</p></div>
+
+<p>He was a special boy, for ever at his book, and happened once to get the
+highest place at exercises. His mother was told it. She could nohow keep
+from dreaming of the pleasure; and when morning came, she got up early,
+went to speak with the cook and said as follows:</p>
+
+<p>'Cook, you are to make a cake for Henry, who yesterday was very good at
+school.'</p>
+
+<p>'With all my heart,' replied the cook, and set immediately about it. It
+was as big as&mdash;let me see&mdash;as big as&mdash;as a hat when flapped. The cook
+had stuffed it with nice almonds, large pistachio nuts, and candied
+lemon-peel, and iced it over with a coat of sugar, so that it was very
+smooth and a perfect white. The cake no sooner was come home from baking
+than the cook put on her things, and carried it to school.</p>
+
+<p>When Henry first saw it, he jumped up and down like any Merry Andrew. He
+was not so patient as to wait<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> till they could let him have a knife, but
+fell upon it tooth and nail. He ate and ate till school began, and after
+school was over he ate again; at night, too, it was the same thing till
+bedtime&mdash;nay, a little fellow that Henry had for a playmate told me that
+he put the cake upon his bolster when he went to bed, and waked and
+waked a dozen times, that he might take a bit. I cannot so easily
+believe this last particular; but, then, it is very true, at least, that
+on the morrow, when the day was hardly broke, he set about his favourite
+business once again, continuing at it all the morning, and by noon had
+eaten it up. The dinner-bell now rung; but Henry, as one may fancy, had
+no stomach, and was vexed to see how heartily the other children ate. It
+was, however, worse than this at five o'clock, when school was over.</p>
+
+<p>His companions asked him if he would not play at cricket, tan, or kits.
+Alas! he could not; so they played without him. In the meantime Henry
+could hardly stand upon his legs; he went and sat down in a corner very
+gloomily, while the children said one to another: 'What is the matter
+with poor Henry, who used to skip about and be so merry? See how pale
+and sorrowful he is!'</p>
+
+<p>The master came himself, and, seeing him, was quite alarmed. It was all
+lost labour to interrogate him. Henry could not be brought to speak a
+single word.</p>
+
+<p>By great good luck, a boy at length came forward in the secret; and his
+information was that Henry's mother had sent him a great cake the day
+before, which he had swallowed in an instant, as it were, and that his
+present sickness was occasioned only by his gluttony. On this, the
+master sent for an apothecary, who ordered him a quantity of physic,
+phial after phial. Henry, as one would fancy, found it very nauseous,
+but was forced to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> take the whole for fear of dying, which, had he
+omitted it, would certainly have been the case. When some few days of
+physic and strict regimen had passed, his health was re-established as
+before; but his mother protested that she would never let him have
+another cake.</p>
+
+<p><i>Percival.</i> He did not merit so much as the smell of such a thing. But
+this is but one cake, father; and you informed me that there were three,
+if you remember, in your story.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mr. G.</i> Patience! patience! Here is another cake in what I am now going
+to tell.</p>
+
+<p>Henry's master had another scholar, whose name was Francis. He had
+written his mother a very pretty letter, and it had not so much as a
+blotted stroke; in recompense for which she sent him likewise a great
+cake, and Francis thus addressed himself: 'I will not, like that glutton
+Henry, eat up my cake at once, and so be sick as he was; no, I will make
+my pleasure last a great deal longer.' So he took the cake, which he
+could hardly lift by reason of its weight, and watched the opportunity
+of slipping up into his chamber with it, where his box was, and in which
+he put it under lock and key. At playtime every day he slipped away from
+his companions, went upstairs a-tiptoe, cut a tolerable slice off,
+swallowed it, put by the rest, and then came down and mixed again with
+his companions. He continued this clandestine business all the week, and
+even then the cake was hardly half consumed. But what ensued? At last
+the cake grew dry, and quickly after mouldy; nay, the very maggots got
+into it, and by that means had their share; on which account it was not
+then worth eating, and our young curmudgeon was compelled to fling the
+rest away with great reluctance. However, no one grieved for him.</p>
+
+<p><i>Percival.</i> No, indeed; nor I, father. What, keep a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> cake locked up
+seven days together, and not give one's friends a bit! That is
+monstrous! But let us have the other now.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mr. G.</i> There was another little gentleman who went to school with
+Henry and Francis likewise, and his name was Gratian. His mother sent
+him a cake one day, because she loved him, and, indeed, he loved her
+also very much. It was no sooner come than Gratian thus addressed his
+young companions: 'Come and look at what mother has sent me; you must
+every one eat with me.' They scarcely needed such a welcome piece of
+information twice, but all got round the cake, as you have doubtless
+seen the bees resorting to a flower just blown. As Gratian was provided
+with a knife, he cut a great piece off, and then divided it into as many
+shares as he had brought boys together by such a courteous invitation.
+Gratian then took up the rest, and told them that he would eat his piece
+next day; on which he put it up, and went to play with his companions,
+who were all solicitous to have him choose whatever game he thought
+might entertain him most.</p>
+
+<p>A quarter of an hour had scarcely passed as they were playing, when a
+poor old man, who had a fiddle, came into the yard.</p>
+
+<p>He had a very long white beard, and, being blind, was guided by a little
+dog, who went before him with a collar round his neck. To this a cord
+was fastened, which the poor blind man held in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>It was noticed with how much dexterity the little dog conducted him, and
+how he shook a bell, which, I forgot to say, hung underneath his collar,
+when he came near anyone, as if he had designed to say by such an
+action, 'Do not throw down or run against my master.' Being come into
+the yard, he sat him down upon a stone, and,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> hearing several children
+talking round him, 'My dear little gentlemen,' said he, 'I will play you
+all the pretty tunes that I know, if you will give me leave.' The
+children wished for nothing half so much. He put his violin in tune, and
+then thrummed over several jigs and other scraps of music, which, it was
+easy to conjecture, had been new in former times.</p>
+
+<p>Little Gratian saw that while he played his merriest airs, a tear would
+now and then roll down his cheeks, on which he stopped to ask him why he
+wept?</p>
+
+<p>'Because,' said the musician, 'I am very hungry. I have no one in the
+world that will give my dog or me a bit of anything to eat. I wish I
+could but work, and get for both of us a morsel of something; but I have
+lost my strength and sight. Alas! I laboured hard till I was old, and
+now I want bread.'</p>
+
+<p>The generous Gratian, hearing this, wept too. He did not say a word, but
+ran to fetch the cake which he had designed to eat himself. He brought
+it out with joy, and, as he ran along, began: 'Here, good old man, here
+is some cake for you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Where?' replied the poor musician, feeling with his hands; 'where is
+it? For I am blind, and cannot see you.'</p>
+
+<p>Gratian put the cake into his hand, when, laying down his fiddle on the
+ground, he wiped his eyes, and then began to eat. At every piece he put
+into his mouth, he gave his faithful little dog a bit, who came and ate
+out of his hand; and Gratian, standing by him, smiled with pleasure at
+the thought of having fed the poor old man when he was hungry.</p>
+
+<p><i>Percival.</i> Oh, the good, good Gratian! Let me have your knife, father.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mr. G.</i> Here, Percival; but why my knife?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 399px;">
+<img src="images/i142.jpg" width="399" height="600" alt="&#39;I will play you all the pretty tunes that I know, if
+you will give me leave.&#39;&mdash;Page 132." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>&#39;I will play you all the pretty tunes that I know, if
+you will give me leave.&#39;&mdash;Page 132.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><i>Percival.</i> I will tell you. I have only nibbled here a little of my
+cake, so pleased I was in listening to you! So I will cut it smooth.
+There, see how well I have ordered it! These scraps, together with the
+currants, will be more than I shall want for breakfast; and the first
+poor man that I meet going home shall have the rest, even though he
+should not play upon the violin.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p>
+<h2>Amendment</h2>
+
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i144dc.jpg" width="153" height="150" alt="C" class="cap" />
+
+<p class="cap_2">Charles Grant lived in a good house, and wore fine clothes, and had a
+great many pretty toys to play with; yet Charles was seldom happy or
+pleased; for he was never good. He did not mind what his mother said to
+him, and would not learn to read, though he was now seven years old.</p></div>
+
+<p>He called the servants names, pinched and beat his little sister Clara,
+and took away her playthings, and was not kind and good to her, as a
+brother should be. 'Oh, what a sad boy Charles is!' was his mother's
+daily bitter exclamation.</p>
+
+<p>His father was a proud, bad man, who let Charles have his own way,
+because he was his only son, and he thought him handsome. But how could
+anyone be handsome that was so naughty? I am sure that when he was
+froward, and put out his lip, and frowned, he looked quite ugly. Mother
+told him so, and said that no one was pretty that was not good; but
+Charles did not mind his mother, and was so vain he would stand before
+the looking-glass half the day, instead of learning his lessons; and was
+so silly he would say, 'What a pretty little boy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> I am! I am glad I am
+not a shabby boy, like Giles Bloomfield, our cowboy.' At such times his
+mother would say to him: 'I wish, Charles, you were only half as good as
+Giles; he is not much older than you, yet he can read in the Bible quite
+well; he works hard for his poor mother, and never vexes her, as you do
+me; and when he comes home of an evening, he nurses the baby, and is
+kind to all his sisters. I dare say he never pinched nor beat any of
+them in his life.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh!' said that wicked Charles, 'I hate him for all that, for he wears
+ragged clothes, and has no toys to play with.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh fie, Charles!' said his mother; 'you are a wicked boy: have not I
+often told you that God made the poor as well as the rich, and He will
+hate those who despise them? Now, Charles, if God, to punish you for
+your pride, were to take away your father and me, and you had no money
+to buy food, and your clothes became old and ragged, you would then be a
+poor, shabby boy, and worse off than Giles; for you could not earn your
+own living, as he does; and you would consequently be starved to death
+if God did not take care of you. And if, while you were rich, you hated
+the poor, how could you expect God to care for you when you grew poor,
+like those you had scorned?'</p>
+
+<p>But Charles, however, was so naughty he would not stay to hear what his
+mother said, but ran away into the fields.</p>
+
+<p>Then Charles's mother was so vexed that she could not help crying at his
+being such a wicked, proud boy; and she could not sleep all that night
+for the grief his conduct had occasioned her. The next day she was
+forced to take a long journey, to visit a friend who was very ill, and
+who lived in London. She was very sorry to leave<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> her children, for she
+knew if Charles behaved naughty when she was with him, he would be a sad
+boy indeed when he was left to himself, and had none to correct him and
+tell him of his faults.</p>
+
+<p>When the carriage that was to take Mrs. Grant to London drove to the
+door, she kissed her children a great many times, and begged that they
+would be very good while she was away from them.</p>
+
+<p>'You, my dear Clara, I know, will mind what nurse says to you, and will
+try to be good while I am gone; for you know that God will see
+everything you do amiss, if I do not; and I hope you will never forget
+to say your prayers to Him night and morning.'</p>
+
+<p>Clara kissed her dear mother, and promised that she would attend to all
+she said; and her mother was satisfied, for she knew that Clara never
+told stories, though she was but a little girl.</p>
+
+<p>Then Mrs. Grant turned to Charles, and said: 'As for you, Charles, I
+cannot help feeling great pain at leaving you; for you are such a bad,
+wilful boy that I shall not have a happy moment whilst I am away from
+you, lest you should do anything amiss. But if you love me, you will try
+to be good; and whenever you are about to do anything wrong, say to
+yourself, "How much this would grieve my poor mother if she knew it! and
+how much it will offend God, who does see, and knows, not only
+everything I do, but even my most secret thoughts! And He will one day
+bring me to an account for all I do or say against His holy will and my
+kind parents' commands."'</p>
+
+<p>Charles, who knew he was a bad boy, hung down his head, for he did not
+like to be told of his faults.</p>
+
+<p>Then his mother said: 'My dear Charles, do try and be good, and I will
+love you dearly.'</p>
+
+<p>'But what will you bring me from London,' said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> Charles, 'if I am a good
+boy? for I never will behave well for nothing.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you call the love of God and of dear mother nothing?' said Clara; 'I
+will behave well, even if mother forgets to bring me the great wax doll,
+and the chest of drawers to keep her clothes in, which she told me about
+yesterday.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Grant smiled fondly on her little girl, but made no reply to
+Charles; and soon the coach drove away from the door.</p>
+
+<p>Charles was very glad when his mother was gone, and he said: 'Now mother
+is gone to London, I will do just as I please: I will learn no ugly
+lessons, but play all day long. How happy I shall be! I hope mother may
+not come for a whole month.'</p>
+
+<p>But Charles soon found he was not so happy as he thought he should have
+been; he did not know the reason, but I will tell you why he was not
+happy. No one can be happy who is not good, and Charles was so naughty
+as to resolve not to obey his kind mother, who loved him so much.</p>
+
+<p>Charles brought out all his toys to play with, but he soon grew weary of
+them, and he kicked them under the table, saying, 'Nasty dull toys, I
+hate you, for you do not amuse me or make me happy. I will go to father,
+and ask him to give me something to please me that I am not used to.'</p>
+
+<p>But father was busy with some friends in the study, and could not attend
+to his wants. Charles was a rude, tiresome boy; so he stood by his
+father, and shook his chair, and pulled his sleeve, and teazed him so
+much that his father at last grew angry, and turned him out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>Then Charles stood and kicked at the door, and screamed with all his
+might, when one of the gentlemen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> said to him: 'If you were my little
+boy, I would give you something to cry for.' So Charles's father told
+him if he did not go away, he would come out of the study and whip him.</p>
+
+<p>When Charles heard this, he ran away, for he was afraid of being beaten;
+but, instead of playing quietly with his toys, he went and laid under
+the great table in the hall and sulked and fretted till dinner-time.</p>
+
+<p>When nurse came to call him to dinner, he said: 'I won't come. Go away,
+ugly nurse!'</p>
+
+<p>Then said nurse: 'Master Charles, if you like to punish yourself by
+going without your dinner, no one will prevent you, I am sure.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Charles began to cry aloud, and tried to tear nurse's apron; but
+nurse told him he was a bad boy, and left him.</p>
+
+<p>Now, when Clara sat down to dinner, she said to nurse: 'Where is brother
+Charles? Why is he not here?'</p>
+
+<p>'Miss Clara, he is a naughty child,' said nurse, 'and chooses to go
+without his dinner, thinking to vex us; but he hurts no one but himself
+with his perverse temper.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then,' said Clara, 'I do not like to dine while Charles goes without;
+so I will try and persuade him to come and eat some pie.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, Miss Clara,' said nurse, 'you may go, if you please; but I would
+leave the bad boy to himself.'</p>
+
+<p>When Clara came to Charles, and asked him if he would come and eat his
+dinner, he poked out his head, and made such an ugly face that she was
+quite frightened at him, and ran away.</p>
+
+<p>Nurse did not take the trouble of calling him to tea; and, though he was
+very hungry, he was too sulky to come without being asked; so he lay
+under the table, and cried aloud till bedtime. But when it grew dark, he
+was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> afraid to stay by himself, for bad children are always fearful; so
+he came upstairs and said in a cross, rude tone of voice: 'Nurse, give
+me something to eat.'</p>
+
+<p>Nurse said: 'Master Charles, if you had been good, you would have had
+some chicken and some apple-pie for your dinner, and bread and butter
+and cake for your tea; but as you were such a bad boy, and would not
+come to your meals, I shall only give you a piece of dry bread and a cup
+of milk, and you do not deserve even that.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Charles made one of his very worst faces, and threw the bread on
+the ground, and spilt the milk.</p>
+
+<p>Nurse told him that there were many poor children in the world who would
+be glad of the smallest morsel of what he so much despised, and that the
+time would come when he might want the very worst bit of it; and she
+bade him kneel down and say his prayers, and ask God to forgive him for
+having been such a wicked boy all day.</p>
+
+<p>But Charles did not mind what she said, and went crying to bed. Thus
+ended the first day of Charles Grant's happiness.</p>
+
+<p>He awoke very early the next morning, and told nurse to get him his
+breakfast, for he was very hungry. But nurse said he must wait till
+eight o'clock, which was the breakfast hour.</p>
+
+<p>He now found it was of no use sulking, as no one seemed to care for his
+tempers; so he looked about for something to eat, but found nothing but
+the piece of bread he had thrown on the ground the night before; and he
+was glad to eat that, and only wished there had been more of it.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as breakfast was over, Clara brought her books, and began to
+learn her lessons, and nurse asked Charles if he would do the same. But
+Charles said, 'No, indeed!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> I do not mean to learn any lessons while
+mother is away, for I mean to please myself and be happy.'</p>
+
+<p>'You did as you pleased yesterday, Master Charles,' said nurse; 'yet I
+do not think you were so very happy, unless happiness consists in lying
+under a table and crying all day, and going without dinner and tea,
+merely to indulge a sullen, froward temper.'</p>
+
+<p>Now, Charles hated to be told of his faults, so he left nurse, and went
+into the garden to try and amuse himself. When there, instead of keeping
+in the walks, as he ought to have done, he ran on the beds, trampled
+down the flowers, and pulled the blossoms from the fruit-trees.</p>
+
+<p>The gardener's boy earnestly requested Charles not to do so much
+mischief; but Charles told him he was a gentleman's son, and would do as
+he pleased. So he again ran over the new-raked borders, and pulled up
+the flowers; and the poor boy was sadly vexed to see his nice work all
+spoiled.</p>
+
+<p>Charles did not care for that, and would have behaved still worse, had
+not the gardener, who then came up, taken him in his arms, and carried
+him into the house, in spite of his kicking and screaming. He cried for
+a long time, and made a sad noise; but, finding that no one paid any
+regard to him, he became quiet, and went into the nursery, and asked
+Clara to come and play with him.</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot come just now, brother Charles,' said she; 'for I want to
+finish this frock that I am making for Giles Bloomfield's little
+sister.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am sure,' said Charles, 'if I were you, I would much rather play than
+sit still and sew.'</p>
+
+<p>'Not if you knew what pleasure there is in doing good,' said Clara; 'but
+if you will wait till I have finished it, you shall go with me and give
+it to the poor woman, and then you will see how pleased she will be, and
+how nicely the baby will look when she is dressed in this pretty frock,
+instead of her old faded, ragged one.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/i151.jpg" width="400" height="600" alt="Had not the gardener, who then came up, taken him in his
+arms, and carried him into the house, in spite of his kicking and
+screaming.&mdash;Page 142." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>Had not the gardener, who then came up, taken him in his
+arms, and carried him into the house, in spite of his kicking and
+screaming.&mdash;Page 142.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Charles did not know how to amuse himself, so he sat down on his little
+stool, and watched his sister while she worked.</p>
+
+<p>When Clara had finished making the frock, she said: 'Thank you, dear
+nurse, for cutting out and fixing the frock for me.' So she threw her
+arms round nurse's neck, and kissed her cheek; and nurse put on Clara's
+tippet and her new bonnet, and walked with Charles and her to Dame
+Bloomfield's cottage.</p>
+
+<p>The good woman took the baby out of the cradle, and laid it on Clara's
+lap, and Clara had the pleasure of dressing it herself in the nice new
+frock; and the baby looked so neat and pretty, and the poor mother was
+so pleased, that Clara was much happier than if she had spent her time
+in playing or working for her doll.</p>
+
+<p>While Clara was nursing and caressing the baby, Charles went into the
+little garden, where he found Giles Bloomfield, who had just returned
+from working in the fields, with a beautiful milk-white rabbit in his
+arms, which he had taken out of the hutch, and was nursing with much
+affection.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, what a pretty rabbit!' said Charles. 'Giles, will you sell it to
+me?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, Master Charles,' said Giles, 'I cannot sell my pretty Snowball.'</p>
+
+<p>'And why not?' asked Charles in a fretful tone.</p>
+
+<p>'Because, Master Charles, the old doe, its mother, died when Snowball
+was only a week old, and I reared it by feeding it with warm milk and
+bran; and it is now so fond of me that I would not part with it for a
+great deal.'</p>
+
+<p>So saying, he stroked his pretty favourite, who licked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> his hand all
+over, and rubbed her soft white head against his fingers.</p>
+
+<p>Then Giles said: 'My dear Snowball, I would not sell you for the world.'</p>
+
+<p>'But you shall sell Snowball to me,' said Charles, making one of his
+ugly faces. 'I will give you a shilling for her; and if you do not let
+me carry her home this very day, I will tell father of you, and he will
+turn you out of the cottage.'</p>
+
+<p>When Giles's mother heard Charles say so, she came out of the house, and
+said: 'Pray, Giles, let Master Charles have the rabbit.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dear mother,' said Giles, 'Master Charles has a pony and a dog, and a
+great many fine toys to play with, and I have only my pretty Snowball;
+and it will break my heart to part with her.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then,' said his mother, 'would you rather see your mother and sisters
+turned out of doors than part with your rabbit? You know, Giles, that I
+had so many expenses with your poor father's illness and death that I
+have not paid the rent due last quarter-day; and you know it is in our
+landlord's power to turn us into the streets to-morrow.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, mother,' cried Giles, bursting into tears, 'Master Charles must
+have the rabbit. But oh!' continued he, 'he does not love you as I do,
+my pretty Snowball; he will not feed and take care of you as I have
+done, and you will soon die, and I shall never see you again.' And his
+tears fell fast on the white head of his little pet as he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>Clara was quite grieved, and begged her naughty brother not to deprive
+poor Giles of his rabbit; but Charles was a wicked and covetous boy; he
+therefore took Snowball from Giles, and carried her home in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> arms,
+and put her in a box. He went into the fields and gathered some green
+herbs for her to eat, and said: 'I am glad I have got Snowball; now I
+shall be quite happy.'</p>
+
+<p>But how could Charles be happy when he had broken God's holy
+commandment, which says, 'Thou shalt not covet'? Nurse and Clara told
+him so, and begged him to give Snowball back again to Giles. But Charles
+said he would not, for he meant to keep her all his life; but the next
+morning, when he went into the stable to look at her, he found her
+stretched at the bottom of the box. He called her, but Snowball did not
+stir; he then took her out of the box to see what ailed her; but she was
+quite cold and dead.</p>
+
+<p>Oh dear! how Charles did cry! But it was of no use. He had better not
+have taken her away from Giles, for he did not know what to feed her
+with, and had given her among the greens he had gathered a herb called
+hemlock, which is poisonous and will kill whatever eats of it; and it
+had killed poor Snowball.</p>
+
+<p>The coachman told Charles so when he saw how swollen she was, and
+Charles cried the more. Giles cried too when he heard what a sad death
+poor Snowball had died; but he had been a good dutiful boy in parting
+with her when his mother wished it, though it had cost him much pain and
+many tears.</p>
+
+<p>Well, Charles's mother was gone a long time, more than a month, and it
+would quite shock you to be told how naughty Charles was all that time;
+at last a letter came to say she was very ill, and then another to tell
+them she was dead.</p>
+
+<p>What would Charles then have given if he had not grieved her so often
+with his perverse temper and wicked conduct? He now said when he saw her
+again, he would beg her to forgive him; but when Charles did see his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>
+poor mother again she was in her coffin and could not hear him; and he
+cried exceedingly, and wished he had been good. Clara, though she cried
+as much as Charles for her dear mother, was glad she had obeyed her, and
+been so good while she was away.</p>
+
+<p>'And I will always be as good as if dear mother could see me, and love
+me for it too,' said she to nurse the day after her mother was buried.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear young lady,' said nurse, 'your mother <i>will</i> see it, and love
+you for doing your duty.'</p>
+
+<p>'How can dear mother see me? Her eyes are closed, and she is in the dark
+grave,' said Clara.</p>
+
+<p>'But she will see you from heaven, Miss Clara, where she is gone to
+receive the reward of her good conduct in this world; for though her
+body is in the earth, her spirit is in heaven.'</p>
+
+<p>'And shall I never see my own dear mother again?' said Clara.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, Miss Clara; if you are good, you will go to heaven when you die,
+and become an angel like her.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then,' said Clara, 'I will pray to God to make me good, and when I am
+going to do anything wrong I will say to myself, "If I do this, I shall
+never go to heaven, and see my dear mother when I die."'</p>
+
+<p>'I wish,' said nurse, 'that Master Charles was like you, and would try
+to be good.'</p>
+
+<p>But though Charles was sometimes sorry for his bad behaviour, he did not
+try to mend, because he thought it was too much trouble to be good, and
+said he did not care, because he was the son of a gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>Charles did not know that at this very time his father had spent all his
+money, and owed a great many debts to different people; and at last he
+ran away that he might not be put in prison; and the people to whom he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>
+owed so much money came and seized his fine house and gardens, and the
+coach, and all the furniture, and sold them by auction, to raise money
+to pay the debts; so Charles found that, instead of being rich, he was
+now very, very poor.</p>
+
+<p>When the auction was over and all the things were sold, and it was
+getting quite dark (for it was in the month of November), Clara and
+Charles stood in one of the empty parlours, and wondered what they
+should do for supper, and where they should sleep that night; for all
+the beds were sold, and they saw the servants go away one after another.</p>
+
+<p>At last nurse came in with her bonnet and cloak, and said: 'Miss Clara,
+I am going away to my own cottage, and as you have always been a kind,
+good child, you shall go with me, and I will take care of you.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Clara said, 'Thank you; but will you not take Charles also?'</p>
+
+<p>'No,' said nurse; 'he has always been such a proud, bad boy that I will
+not take him. I have very little to spare, for I am a poor woman, and
+what I have is not more than will keep my own children and you, Miss
+Clara.'</p>
+
+<p>Saying this, she got into the cart, and took Clara on her lap, and one
+of the footmen got in after her, and drove away from the door.</p>
+
+<p>Charles stood on the step of the door, and looked after them till they
+were out of sight; and then he began to cry as if his heart would break.
+The servant of the gentleman who had purchased the house came and locked
+the door, so Charles could not get in any more, and he sat down on the
+stone steps, and covered his face with his hands, and cried bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>'Unhappy child that I am,' sobbed he; 'what will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> become of me? Oh, if I
+had but been good like Clara, I should have found a friend, as she has;
+but no one cares what becomes of me, because I have been so wicked. I
+used to despise the poor, and God, to punish me, has made me poor
+indeed.'</p>
+
+<p>It was very cold, and the snow began to fall fast, and it grew quite
+dark. Charles rested his head on his knees, and was afraid to look
+round; his clothes were almost wet through, and his limbs were benumbed
+with cold; he had no place where he could ask shelter, for no one loved
+him; and he thought he should be obliged to stay there all night, and
+perhaps be frozen to death.</p>
+
+<p>Just then someone softly touched his hand, and said: 'Master Charles, I
+have been looking for you for more than an hour.'</p>
+
+<p>Charles looked up; but when he saw it was Giles Bloomfield who had come
+to seek him in his distress, he remembered how ill he had behaved to
+him, so he hid his face, and began to weep afresh.</p>
+
+<p>Then Giles sat down by him on the steps, and said: 'Dear Master Charles,
+you must not stay here. See how fast it snows. You will catch your death
+of cold.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I am very cold and hungry,' sobbed Charles, 'but I have no home
+now; I have nowhere else to go, and must stay here all night.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, Master Charles,' said Giles, 'you shall come home with me, and
+shall share my supper and my bed, though it is not such as you have been
+used to; notwithstanding we are very poor, we will do our best to make
+you comfortable.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Giles!' said Charles, throwing his arms round Giles's neck, 'I do
+not deserve this kindness; I have been such a proud, wicked boy, and
+have treated you so ill. I am sure you can never forgive me for having
+taken your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> pretty Snowball; and if <i>you</i> forgive me, I can never
+forgive myself.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dear Master Charles, do not think of that now,' said Giles, taking both
+Charles's cold hands in his. 'Indeed, Master Charles, I should never
+dare say my prayers if I was so wicked as to bear malice; and, now you
+are in distress, I would do anything in my power to serve you. So pray
+come home with me, and warm yourself, and get some supper.'</p>
+
+<p>But Charles hid his face on Giles's bosom, and cried the more; at last
+he said:</p>
+
+<p>'Giles, I am so ashamed of having behaved so cruelly to you, that I can
+never go to your home, and eat the food that you are obliged to labour
+so hard for.'</p>
+
+<p>'Master Charles,' said Giles, 'that is because you are so proud.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh no, no!' sobbed Charles, 'I am not proud now, and I think I shall
+never be proud again.' So he kissed Giles, and they both went home to
+Dame Bloomfield's cottage together.</p>
+
+<p>When Giles's mother saw Charles, she said: 'Why did did you bring this
+proud, cross young gentleman here, Giles?'</p>
+
+<p>Charles, when he heard her say so, thought he should be turned out again
+into the cold, and began to cry afresh; but Giles said:</p>
+
+<p>'Dear mother, Master Charles has no home to go to now; he is cold and
+hungry; I am sure you will let him stay here, and share my bed and my
+supper.'</p>
+
+<p>'He can stay here if he likes,' said Dame Bloomfield; 'but you know,
+Giles, we are forced to work hard for what food we have, and I am sure
+we cannot afford to maintain Master Charles.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then,' said Giles, 'he shall have my supper to-night;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> he wants it more
+than I do, for he has had no food all day.'</p>
+
+<p>'You may please yourself about that, Giles; but remember, if you give
+your food to Master Charles, you must go without yourself.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well,' said Giles, 'I shall feel more pleasure in giving my supper to
+Master Charles than in eating it myself.'</p>
+
+<p>So he brought a stool, and, placing it in the warmest corner by the
+fire, made Charles sit down, and chafed his cold frozen hands, and tried
+to comfort him; for Charles was greatly afflicted when he saw that
+everyone hated him; but he knew that it was his own fault, and a just
+punishment for his pride and bad conduct.</p>
+
+<p>When Giles brought his basin of hot milk and bread for his supper, he
+could not thank him for crying; and he was ashamed to eat it while Giles
+went without; but he was so hungry, and the milk looked so nice, that he
+did not know how to refuse it; and Giles begged him so earnestly to eat
+that at last he did so, and once more felt warm and comfortable.</p>
+
+<p>Then Giles said to him: 'Now, Master Charles, will you go to bed? Mine
+is but a coarse, hard bed, but it is very clean.' So he took the lamp to
+show Charles the way to the chamber in which he was to sleep.</p>
+
+<p>Charles was surprised at seeing no staircase, but only a ladder. Giles
+laughed when he saw how Charles stared, and he said:</p>
+
+<p>'You have been used to live in a grand house, Master Charles, and know
+nothing of the shifts the poor are forced to make.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Charles climbed up the ladder, and Giles showed him a little room,
+not much larger than a closet, with no furniture in it, but a stump bed
+without any hangings, and covered with a coarse, woollen rug. Charles
+Grant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> had never even seen such a bed before, but he was thankful that
+he could get any place to sleep in, out of the cold and snow.</p>
+
+<p>Giles helped Charles to undress, for Charles was so helpless he did not
+know how to undress himself. When he was going to step into bed, Giles
+exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>'Will you not say your prayers before you go to bed, Master Charles?'</p>
+
+<p>Charles blushed and hung down his head, for he had been so naughty that
+he had not said his prayers for a long time past, and had almost
+forgotten what his dear mother had taught him; and he told Giles so at
+last.</p>
+
+<p>'Dear, dear!' said Giles, 'I never dare go to bed without saying mine.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Charles said: 'I am sorry I have been so naughty as to forget my
+prayers; will you teach me yours, and I will never forget them again?'</p>
+
+<p>Then they both knelt down by the side of the little bed, and Giles
+taught Charles such prayers as he knew, and Charles went to bed much
+happier than he had been for a long time.</p>
+
+<p>Though the bed was hard, and the sheets brown and coarse, Charles was so
+weary that he soon fell asleep, and slept so soundly that he did not
+awake till it was broad day, and Giles was up and gone to work in the
+fields.</p>
+
+<p>When Charles looked round he thought he had never seen such a shabby
+room in his life. There was not so much as a chair or table or carpet in
+it; he could see all the thatch and the rafters in the roof, for the
+chamber was not even ceiled, but showed the thatch and rafters, and, as
+I said before, there was not a single article of furniture in the room,
+except the bed. How different from the pretty little chamber in which
+Charles used to sleep, with the nice white dimity window-curtains and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>
+hangings and mahogany tent-bed, with such comfortable bedding and
+handsome white counterpane! However, he now thought himself very
+fortunate that he had any roof to shelter him, or any bed, however
+homely it might be, on which he could sleep.</p>
+
+<p>He thought he should like to get up and go downstairs, but he had always
+been used to have a servant to dress him, and he did not know how to
+dress himself, so while he was considering what he should do Giles came
+into the chamber. He had returned to get his breakfast, and not seeing
+Charles downstairs he concluded the cause of his absence, and came to
+assist him to dress. Charles observed how this matter was arranged, and
+resolved to do it for himself the next morning.</p>
+
+<p>When he was dressed they both knelt down by the bedside and said their
+prayers, for though Giles had said his at the dawn of day, yet he never
+omitted an opportunity of repeating his thanksgivings and praises to his
+heavenly Father for the mercies and blessings which he enjoyed through
+His grace, for Giles possessed a grateful and contented heart, which
+made him look upon that state of life unto which it had pleased God to
+call him, as that which was meet and fit for him, so he worked hard, and
+ate the bread of labour with cheerfulness and satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>When Charles and Giles joined the family below Dame Bloomfield set a
+porringer of milk and a piece of brown bread for everyone but Charles,
+who looked ready to cry, but Giles put his porringer before him, and
+gave him another spoon, and said: 'Master Charles, we will eat together,
+for there will be enough for both of us.' The tears came into Charles's
+eyes, and he whispered: 'Dear Giles, you are very good.' So these boys
+eat out of the same porringer, and broke of the same bread.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>After breakfast Giles went out to work, and Charles thought it very dull
+till he returned to dinner. When Dame Bloomfield gave her children their
+dinners there was a dumpling for everyone but Charles; then Giles cut
+his dumpling in half, and gave one part to Charles, and eat the other
+half himself. Now this was very good of Giles, for he was very hungry
+himself, but he could not bear to see Charles sad and hungry while he
+was eating, and Giles liked to do good because he knew it was pleasing
+to God.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as dinner was over Giles went out to work again, and Charles was
+as dull as he had been in the morning, for all the family were at work
+in some way or other, and could not spare time to amuse or talk to him,
+and he did nothing but sigh and fret to himself till evening, when Giles
+came home from work.</p>
+
+<p>Giles's eldest sister made a bright fire, and they all sat round it and
+talked and told stories, and Giles nursed the baby, and played with the
+other little ones, and seemed quite happy, and so he was, for he had
+done his duty, and everyone loved him for being so good.</p>
+
+<p>After supper Giles taught those of his sisters who were old enough to
+read and write, and when they had finished learning their tasks Charles
+took up the book, and said: 'Giles, will you teach me to read?' and
+Giles said: 'Certainly, Master Charles, I will, but I am sure you must
+know how to read a great deal better than such a poor boy as I am.'</p>
+
+<p>'I might have done so,' said Charles, 'but, Giles, I was a sad, naughty,
+perverse boy, and hated to learn any thing that was good; but I hope I
+know better now, and if you will only take the trouble of teaching me I
+will try and make up for my lost time.'</p>
+
+<p>So Giles gave Charles a lesson that very night, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> every evening after
+supper he heard him read and spell what he had learned during the day,
+and Charles took such pains that he soon began to read so well that he
+used to amuse himself by reading pretty stories, and by teaching little
+Betty, one of Giles's youngest sisters, to read.</p>
+
+<p>Still Charles used to be exceedingly hungry, for he had not more than
+half the quantity of food he was used to eat, and Giles was hungry too,
+and grew pale and thin.</p>
+
+<p>Then Charles said to himself: 'It is not right for me to eat the bread
+which poor Giles works so hard to earn; I will try and get my own
+living, for why should I not do so, as well as Giles?' So one morning,
+when Giles rose, as usual, at five o'clock, Charles got up too. Then
+Giles said:</p>
+
+<p>'Why do you rise so early this cold morning, Master Charles?'</p>
+
+<p>'Because I am going out to work with you, Giles, if you will permit me,'
+answered Charles.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Master Charles, such work as I do is not fit for a young gentleman
+like you,' said Giles.</p>
+
+<p>'You must not call me a young gentleman <i>now</i>, for I am only a poor boy,
+and poorer than other poor boys, for they can earn their own living,
+while I should have been starved to death had not you given me half of
+the bread you work so hard for. But I will not be a burthen to you any
+longer, but learn to work and get my own living as you do.'</p>
+
+<p>Charles now meant to keep his word, and they both went out into the
+fields, and worked together at picking stones off the young crops of
+wheat and clover, and before breakfast Giles had picked up two bushels
+of stones and Charles one, and the farmer gave them a penny per bushel
+for gathering them up.</p>
+
+<p>Then they made haste back to the cottage, and Giles gave his mother the
+money he had earned, and Charles<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> did the same, and when the dame poured
+out the milk for the family Charles saw that she filled a porringer for
+him also, and they had all a good breakfast that morning, and Charles
+felt quite happy because he had not eaten the bread of idleness. So he
+went out to work with Giles again, and earned twopence before dinner.</p>
+
+<p>When Dame Bloomfield took up the dumplings Charles saw there was one for
+him, and he felt happy that poor Giles had not to deprive himself of
+half his food that he might eat.</p>
+
+<p>Charles went out to work every day with Giles, and in the evening he
+learned to read and write. He became quite good and gentle, and enjoyed
+more happiness than he had experienced in his life before. And why was
+Charles happy? I will tell you, my dear children. Because he was no
+longer a proud, froward boy as he had been, but was kind and
+sweet-tempered to everyone, and did his duty both to God and himself.</p>
+
+<p>The winter passed swiftly away, and the spring came, and the birds began
+to sing, and the trees looked green and gay, and the pretty flowers
+bloomed in the gardens and covered the meadows all over, and scented the
+air with their fragrance, and Charles thought it very pleasant to work
+in the fields, and hear the birds sing as they tended their young, or
+built their nests among the green boughs or in the hedges.</p>
+
+<p>One day Giles said to Charles: 'Master Charles, we cannot work together
+in the fields any more; I have got a new employment.'</p>
+
+<p>'But why cannot I work with you?' asked Charles.</p>
+
+<p>'Because, sir, you will not like to work where I am going,' answered
+Giles. Charles asked where that was. 'In the garden of the great house,
+Master Charles, where you used to live,' said Giles.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Charles looked very sorrowful, and remained silent for some minutes; at
+last he said: 'Well, Giles, I will go with you; my clothes are grown
+shabby now, and nobody will know me, and if they did I hope I am too
+wise to be ashamed of doing my duty, so let us go directly.'</p>
+
+<p>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 eightpence per day.</p>
+
+<p>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.</p>
+
+<p>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.'</p>
+
+<p>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.'</p>
+
+<p>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.'</p>
+
+<p>'How dare you say I am not good?' said this naughty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> child. 'I am a
+great deal better than you, for I am a gentleman, and you are only a
+poor boy.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' said Charles, his eyes filling with tears as he spoke, 'I am,
+indeed, only a poor boy <i>now</i>, 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.'</p>
+
+<p>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.</p>
+
+<p>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.</p>
+
+<p>'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.'</p>
+
+<p>'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.</p>
+
+<p>When Charles saw that it was, indeed, his own dear sister Clara, he
+kissed her and cried with joy.</p>
+
+<p>Then he told Clara all that had happened to him since the day they had
+parted, and how sorry he had been for all his past conduct, and he asked
+her who the gentleman was that had brought her into the garden.</p>
+
+<p>'It is our uncle, dear Charles. You know our dear mother had a brother
+who lived in India that she used frequently to talk about. Well, when he
+came home,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> and heard that mother was dead, and we were in distress, he
+came to nurse's cottage, and took me home to his house, and has now come
+to find you, for he is very good and kind, and loves us both for our
+dear mother's sake.'</p>
+
+<p>'And will he take me home too?' said Charles.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, my boy,' said Charles's uncle, taking him by the hand, 'because
+you are good and kind, and are no longer cross and proud, as I heard you
+used to be. You shall come home with me this very day, if you please,
+and I will teach you everything that a young gentleman should know, and
+you and Clara shall be my children so long as you continue to be
+deserving of my love, and are not unkind, nor despise those who are
+beneath you in situation.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed, uncle,' said Charles, 'I can now feel for the poor, and I would
+rather remain as I am than be rich if I thought I should ever behave as
+I used to do.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear child,' said his uncle, kissing him with great affection,
+'continue to think so, and you will never act amiss. The first and
+greatest step toward amendment is acknowledging our faults. What is
+passed shall be remembered no more, and I doubt not but that we shall
+all be happy for the time to come.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, uncle,' said Charles, laying his hand on his uncle's arm, 'I have
+something to ask of you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, Charles, and what would you have of me?' said his uncle.</p>
+
+<p>Then Charles led Giles to his uncle, and related all he had done for
+him; how he had taken him to his own home, and given him half of his
+food and his bed, and taught him to read and to work; he, likewise, told
+his uncle how ill he had behaved to Giles in depriving him of his pretty
+Snowball, and he said: 'Dear uncle, will you allow Giles to share my
+good fortune, for I cannot be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> happy while he is in want, and he is
+better than me, for he returned good for evil.'</p>
+
+<p>Then his uncle said: 'Charles, I should not have loved you had you
+forgotten your kind friend.' And he asked Giles if he would like to go
+to his house and live with him, and spend his time in learning to read
+and write, and in improving his mind, instead of hard labour.</p>
+
+<p>'I should like it very much indeed, sir,' said Giles, 'but I cannot
+accept your kind offer.'</p>
+
+<p>'And why not, my good little friend?'</p>
+
+<p>'Because, sir,' said Giles, bursting into tears, 'my poor mother and
+sisters must go to the workhouse or starve if I did not stay and work
+for them, and I could not be happy if I lived in a fine house, and knew
+they were in want of a bit of bread to eat.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then,' said the gentleman smiling, 'for your sake they shall never want
+anything, for I will put them into a cottage of my own, and will take
+care of them, and you shall live with me, and I will love you as if you
+were my own child, and remember, Giles, I do this as a reward for your
+kindness to Charles when he was unhappy and in great distress.'</p>
+
+<p>Charles's uncle was as good as his word, and Giles received the
+blessings of a good education, while his mother and sisters were
+maintained by the benevolence of his benefactor.</p>
+
+<p>Charles was so careful not to relapse into his former errors that he
+became as remarkable for his gentleness and the goodness of his heart as
+he had formerly been for his pride and unkindness, and in the diligent
+performance of his duty, both to God and man, he proved to his uncle the
+sincerity of his amendment.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p>
+<h2>Scourhill's Adventures</h2>
+
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i169dc.jpg" width="152" height="150" alt="T" class="cap" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="cap_2">There was a review of a regiment of horse at a small distance from the
+Academy, and several of the boys were allowed to be present. On the road
+they fell in with a man who was walking, and leading a horse with two
+empty panniers suspended on each side of it. Scourhill requested a ride;
+the man consented, and the youth mounted upon the horse.</p>
+
+<p>The animal had long been a dragoon horse, and when it became old it was
+sold to a farmer. But it had not forgot its early habits, for on
+arriving within sight of the cavalry the old charger pricked up its
+ears, and seemed to resume the fire of youth. The young men laughed, and
+complimented Scourhill on the appearance he made upon his war-horse; but
+while they were yet speaking the trumpet sounded, and the animal, roused
+into spirit, set off at a full trot, and fell into the front rank.
+Immediately the signal was given for a charge, and Scourhill and his
+horse, with the baskets dangling by its sides, flew off at full speed,
+amid the shouts and huzzas of the whole crowd. The instant that the
+regiment halted the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> youth slid off the horse, which he delivered to its
+owner, and, completely mortified with his military exhibition, he sunk
+into the crowd, and regained his companions.</p>
+
+<p>The young men, on their return home, as they were about to enter the
+village, saw an ass feeding by the roadside. 'What a fine appearance,'
+said Falsesight to Scourhill, 'you would make upon this noble animal, at
+the head of the regiment!' Saying this, he attempted to leap upon its
+back, but was not able. Scourhill, in order to show his agility, made a
+spring, and easily accomplished what his companion had tried in vain.
+Instantly Falsesight took off his hat, and gave the animal a few slaps,
+and away it cantered into the village, pursued by the young men, urging
+it to full speed, while every boy whom they met joined in the pursuit,
+and every cottage poured out its matrons and children and dogs.</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of this uproar, the Rector entered the village, and was
+coming full upon Scourhill and his retinue when the ass made a sudden
+halt before the door of a tinker, its master, and threw its rider upon a
+large heap of mire. The youth instantly started up, and, without ever
+looking behind him to thank his attendants for the procession, he ran
+home to the Academy.</p>
+
+<p>He retired, and some time after his arrival he wrote a small note to the
+Rector, expressive of sorrow for his conduct, and requesting permission
+to keep his room for the evening. Mr. Macadam granted the request, and
+at the same time desired the servant to say that he was assured that
+Master Scourhill would find himself much fatigued after his brilliant
+display of assmanship, which so much astonished the village.</p>
+
+<p>The errors of a boy must be corrected by corporal punishment, or by the
+deprivation of something which he values, or by his own self-reproach.
+The whole aim of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> Mr. Macadam, in the education of his pupils, was to
+raise them to that dignity of character which renders the last mode of
+punishment efficient for right conduct. To raise youth, however, to such
+a character requires knowledge, vigilance, affectionate severity, and
+prudent indulgence; and if few boys possess it, let us not complain of
+human nature. Will the husbandman who in spring has neglected his fields
+meet with commiseration when he complains that his harvest has failed?</p>
+
+<p>Scourhill received no punishment, excepting what arose from his own
+sense of shame; but next day the Rector spoke to his pupils, and he
+particularly cautioned them against those pursuits which tend to debase
+the character. 'The rich,' said he, 'owe their virtues and talents to
+society as much as the poor man does his industry; and if the former
+fall into low amusements, they do not become useless only; they
+frequently become vicious, and sometimes they make as honourable an
+exhibition as did Master Scourhill on the ass pursued by the boys and
+dogs of the village.'</p>
+
+<p>The youth was advised to make some reparation or apology to the tinker,
+the particular nature of which was left to his own discretion; and for
+this purpose he was permitted to leave the Academy for the evening.</p>
+
+<p>The tinker had a child, and Scourhill thought that an apology to the
+father and a present to the son would amply atone for his imprudence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 413px;">
+<img src="images/i172.jpg" width="413" height="600" alt="Every boy ... joined in the pursuit, and every cottage
+poured out its matrons and children and dogs.&mdash;Page 163." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>Every boy ... joined in the pursuit, and every cottage
+poured out its matrons and children and dogs.&mdash;Page 163.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Before entering the village, Scourhill had to pass a mill. A child
+playing on the margin of the stream that supplied it with water fell in,
+and was floating toward the mill-wheel, when the youth, seeing its
+danger, rushed forward, and caught it by the clothes just as it was on
+the point of destruction. Several people witnessed the event, and the
+report that a child was carried into the mill-wheel flew through the
+village, and every mother came running to the place. The woman to whom
+the child belonged soon heard its name, and, pushing in a frantic manner
+through the crowd, she flew to it, and, taking it in her arms, cried,
+clasping it to her bosom, 'My child, my child!' She then silently gazed
+upon its face, apparently to see whether it was really alive, and,
+shedding tears, she exclaimed, 'Heaven be praised!'</p>
+
+<p>After her mind became somewhat more composed, Scourhill was pointed out
+to her; she in a moment put the child out of her arms, and, hastily
+making up to the youth, she embraced him, and gratefully thanked him for
+rescuing her child.</p>
+
+<p>Scourhill, as soon as the general attention was withdrawn from him,
+retired from the crowd, and went to the cottage of the tinker. He
+entered, and, finding the man at work, he took off his hat, and in an
+obliging manner apologized for his conduct. The tinker said, smiling:
+'To be sure, you had a grand procession, but my ass is nothing the worse
+for it, and I freely forgive you.' The youth politely thanked him, and
+just as he was about to retire, he slipped a little money into the hand
+of the tinker's son.</p>
+
+<p>The child, proud of its present, showed it to its father, who instantly
+threw down his tools and ran out of the house after the youth. The crowd
+were returning from the mill; Scourhill had to pass through it, and the
+matrons were not a little surprised to see the deliverer of the child
+pursued by the mender of kettles. The tinker soon overtook him, and,
+having thanked him for his polite and generous conduct, he turned about
+and satisfied the curiosity of those who surrounded him. Scourhill
+received much applause, and while he continued his course every eye
+pursued him in admiration.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Macadam wrote an account of the preceding adventures to Scourhill's
+father, and the old gentleman returned an answer, in which he says:
+'Your letter rejoices my heart. Make my son Joseph a scholar, but, above
+all, make him an honest man. I know little about your Latin and Greek,
+as being things very much out of my way; but this I know&mdash;that a man, if
+his heart is right, can look a fellow-creature in the face; but without
+being an honest man, why, he had better not live.</p>
+
+<p>'When your letter came to hand, I was sitting at dinner, after a most
+noble chase, in the midst of my friends, all men of the right sort,
+downright hearty good fellows. The cloth was removed, and we had just
+sung, <i>Bright Ph&oelig;bus had mounted his chariot of day</i>, when my servant
+Jonathan came in with your letter.</p>
+
+<p>'But you must know my servant. Jonathan is none of your flighty, bowing
+footmen that whip in upon you with the spring of a fox. No, Jonathan is
+better trained. He opens the door leisurely, and marches slowly to
+within four yards of my chair, and there he halts, his eye resting upon
+me. If the conversation is general, he comes forward, and delivers his
+message; but if I am telling one of my hunting stories, he must neither
+speak nor move till he receives my orders. Well, as I said, Jonathan
+came in with your letter. I was in the middle of one of my best stories,
+and, according to custom, he took his station. I came to a pause and
+looked at him. He made his bow, but I continued my story. I made a
+second pause, and again turned my eye toward him. He bowed. "I see you,
+Jonathan," said I, and went on with my story. At the third pause I took
+a few seconds to breathe. The honest fellow made one of his lowest bows.
+I said to him, "Come hither. A letter you have for me? Let me see it."
+(I know your handwriting.) "Carry it, honest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> Jonathan, to your
+mistress," said I; "for my story is not yet finished. It is from the
+worthy man, the Rector; it is about Joseph; return, and let me know
+whether the youngster continues to behave well."</p>
+
+<p>'One of the company remarked the peculiar manner of Jonathan, and this
+brought on a conversation concerning servants. "I have an Irish one,"
+said Squire Danby, "a fellow with a sly, blunt countenance; but his
+heart is honest and affectionate. Yesterday I sent him with a message;
+he stayed too long, and on his return I was much displeased. 'Where do
+you come from?' I cried in an angry tone. 'From Belfast,' he calmly
+replied. 'What!' exclaimed I, raising my voice, 'you are still the old
+man in your answers!' 'Old man,' replied he, with a blunt but respectful
+air; 'that is just what my father used to say. "Pat," says he, "were you
+to live to the age of Methuselah, you would still be Patrick O'Donnar."'
+I lost all patience. 'Sirrah!' cried I, 'to whom do you speak?' 'Sir,
+did you not know,' answered he, 'I would tell you.' I was extremely
+provoked; I gave him a push from me, and he fell upon a favourite dog,
+which set up a loud howl. Pat leisurely arose, muttering, 'Ay, Towler, I
+see you are ashamed,' and he walked slowly away. He soon returned, and,
+coming up to me, said with a grave countenance that he was determined to
+quit my service. My anger had subsided, and I, smiling, said, 'Why, Pat,
+leave my service?' 'Because, sir,' replied he, 'there is no bearing with
+your anger.' 'Tut, my anger,' I cried, 'it is a mere blast, which is
+quickly over.' 'Yes,' said he, with one of his vacant stares, 'it is a
+blast; but it is the blast of a hurricane which knocks me down.' I
+easily reconciled him to his situation."</p>
+
+<p>'In a short while Jonathan came back, and in a fluttered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> manner said
+that his mistress wanted to speak with me. Immediately I left the table,
+and went to my wife. As I entered the door of the apartment, I saw that
+she was in tears; my heart sunk; my limbs trembled, and, walking up to
+her, I took her hand, and kissed her cheek; for we have ever lived in a
+loving manner, and I cried, "My dear, be comforted. Is our son Joseph
+dead?" She in a hurried tone talked of a dragoon horse, an ass, a child,
+and a tinker. "What!" cried I, "my dear, has our son Joseph to do with
+dragoon asses and horses?" I unwittingly put the asses first. She
+laughed. I stared at her, and, shaking my head, I said to myself, "Ah!
+my poor wife!" For I really thought that she was touched in the brain.</p>
+
+<p>'She then thrust the letter into my hand; I read it, and when I came to
+the last part I felt that I was a father. When I saw my boy catching the
+child, when I saw the mother embracing him, when I saw them all blessing
+him, my heart overflowed with tenderness, and I exclaimed, "He is indeed
+my son Joseph." My wife, who saw that I was affected, wept, and, while I
+was drying my own eyes, I always cried to her, "My dear, do not weep."</p>
+
+<p>'I then descended to the company, with the letter in my hand, and told
+them that I should let them hear a story about my son. I then gave the
+letter to my friend, Squire Sleekface, and requested him to read it. My
+friend, who is almost as broad as long, has a jolly round countenance,
+and when he is merry he shakes the whole house with his laughter. The
+Squire read with decent composure till he came to the old horse at full
+charge, with the paniers dancing by its sides. Here he made a full stop;
+the letter fell upon his knee, and his sides were convulsed with
+laughter. He began again, and got tolerably well through with the ass
+race, till he arrived<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> at the turning-post, where Joseph was laid in the
+mire. At this place my friend, with his immoderate laughter, slid off
+his chair, and fell with his back flat upon the floor, and there he lay
+rolling from one side to another, while we all stood round him shaking
+our sides with laughter. At this moment honest Jonathan stalked in with
+his solemn pace, and took his station waiting my orders. His appearance
+added still more to our mirth.</p>
+
+<p>'At length said I, "Honest Jonathan, lend us a hand." We got the Squire
+placed upon his chair; we all dried our eyes, and again took our seats.
+When the last part of your letter was read, all was silence and
+attention, and at the end of it my friend Sleekface called, "A bumper!"
+He then gave the toast, "May Joseph honour his father by being an honest
+man!" The second toast was, "May we, without being philosophers, embrace
+every man as a brother; and, without being courtiers, may we ever smile
+upon a friend!" We then drank the land o' cakes, and we concluded the
+whole with singing "Rule Britannia."'</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p>
+<h2>The Journal</h2>
+
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i178dc.jpg" width="152" height="150" alt="I" class="cap" />
+
+<p class="cap_2">It was the custom in Mr. Pemberton's family for the children and their
+governess, Miss Lambert, to assemble in the parlour every Saturday
+evening that she might read a journal of their behaviour during the past
+week in the presence of their father and mother. Those who were
+conscious of having acted rightly longed for the time of examination, as
+they were sure not only of receiving applause, but also of being
+admitted as guests to supper, when an agreeable entertainment was
+provided for them.</p></div>
+
+<p>The countenances of the guilty were easily distinguished. Gladly would
+they have avoided the eye of their parents on these occasions, but that
+was not allowed; they were obliged to appear. Indeed, their attendance
+constituted part of their punishment.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. and Mrs. Pemberton always invited company to be present when they
+had received an intimation from Miss Lambert that no faults were
+registered in the journal, which frequently happened, as they were
+children of docile dispositions, though sometimes they acted without
+consideration. Several ladies in the neighbourhood took<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> particular
+pleasure in bringing their sons and daughters to be spectators of those
+joyful evenings.</p>
+
+<p>After the journal was read, rewards were bestowed on those who had
+deserved them. Supper was then served up, which generally consisted of
+dried fruits, milk, with blanc-mange, jellies, etc., placed with great
+taste by Miss Pemberton, who was always required to set out the table on
+those nights.</p>
+
+<p>The repast being over, the time was spent pleasantly, either in cheerful
+conversation, or some amusement suitable to the festivity of the
+occasion.</p>
+
+<p>Charlotte Somenors, one of their intimate companions, was frequently
+invited to partake of their pleasure on a happy Saturday, for so they
+termed those days when none of them had reason to be oppressed by the
+fear of punishment.</p>
+
+<p>The last time she attended one of those meetings I requested her to give
+me an account of the transactions of the evening, with which I was so
+much pleased that I committed it to writing, lest the circumstances
+should escape my memory; and as I suppose it is likely to amuse my young
+readers, and at the same time to furnish them with instructive examples,
+I transcribe it for their use. The company being met, Miss Lambert
+introduced her pupils&mdash;Caroline, Emma, Lucy, and George&mdash;after which she
+sat down and began to read as follows:</p>
+
+<p>'It is with great pleasure I recall the events of the last few days.
+Although they will not present a perfect model of virtue and obedience,
+they at least prove that the dear children entrusted to my care are
+willing to repair the faults which they have inadvertently committed. I
+trust that the errors which this journal records will be considered as
+wholly effaced by the repentance and confessions they have occasioned.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'<i>Monday.</i>&mdash;Morning lessons particularly well attended. George learned a
+hymn of Mrs. Barbauld's at his own request. A dispute arose between the
+two young ladies in the afternoon on the subject of choosing a walk.</p>
+
+<p>'Miss Pemberton was desirous of winding along the banks of the river, as
+far as the church, that she might see the fine new monument raised to
+the memory of Lady Modish. Her sisters insisted on going to the next
+village, as they wanted to buy muslin for a doll's frock. After some
+little altercation on each side Caroline, with affectionate
+condescension, gave way to her sisters' inclination, though, as eldest,
+she had the right of choice, saying she could see the monument another
+time. I thought her conduct deserved a reward; therefore, after
+purchasing the articles her sisters wanted, I indulged her by extending
+our walk to the church.</p>
+
+<p>'<i>Tuesday.</i>&mdash;George came running in out of breath to show me a
+birds'-nest he had just taken. It belonged to the blackbirds that used
+to amuse us with their song in the grove. "Alas! George, you have robbed
+my favourite birds of their eggs. We shall no longer be charmed with
+their warbling; they will droop, and perhaps die of grief."</p>
+
+<p>'"The gardener told me where to find the nest. He lifted me up to take
+it, and I thought there was no harm in it, as the young ones were not
+hatched, and intended to make my sisters a present of the eggs."</p>
+
+<p>'The young ladies cried out with one voice that they never could accept
+a gift procured by such cruelty, and desired him to make haste and
+replace it where he found it.</p>
+
+<p>'At first he was reluctant to comply with this proposal, but after I had
+convinced him of the affection of the old ones, even towards their eggs,
+and the pains it had cost them to build the nest, he repented that he
+had taken it, and was as desirous as any of us that it should be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>
+returned to its former situation. He has now the satisfaction of daily
+watching the solicitude and tenderness of the hen, which sits close, and
+we hope will hatch in a few days.</p>
+
+<p>'<i>Wednesday.</i>&mdash;I was surprised on entering Lucy's apartment to hear her
+command Betty in a very imperious tone to wash out all her doll's linen
+immediately.</p>
+
+<p>'The poor girl remonstrated that she had a great deal of business to do,
+and should have no time; but that she would wash it the first
+opportunity with pleasure. Lucy repeated her commands, and would receive
+no excuse. When she saw me she blushed, conscious that her behaviour
+would not meet my approbation. I sent Betty downstairs, and explained to
+Lucy the impropriety of such conduct. "Gentleness to inferiors," said I,
+"is the mark of a good understanding, as well as of a sweet disposition.
+Servants are our fellow-creatures. Though situated less fortunately than
+ourselves, are we to increase the unhappiness of their lot by the
+tyranny of our treatment towards them? Circumstances may change. Your
+father may become poor, and you may be reduced to the conditions of a
+servant. Consider how unkind harsh words would appear to you, and never
+say that to a domestic which would wound you in their situation. Merit
+is confined to no rank. Betty is a worthy young woman, and entitled to
+your respect as well as tenderness, for the many kind offices she
+performs for you. What a helpless being would you be without her
+assistance! She makes your clothes, and aids you to put them on; she
+nurses you when you are sick, and attends you on all occasions. Can you
+forget the obligations you owe her, and command her with haughtiness?
+There is but one way to repair your fault. You have insulted her; ask
+her forgiveness."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'"That I will do most willingly," replied Lucy. "I love Betty, and
+should be very sorry to have said anything to vex her. I spoke without
+reflection."</p>
+
+<p>'She ran downstairs directly and made a proper apology to Betty, and I
+have the pleasure to add has since bought a pretty ribbon with her
+pocket-money, which she has given her as a token of her regards.</p>
+
+<p>'<i>Thursday.</i>&mdash;Emma is extremely fond of keeping animals of different
+kinds in a domestic state, and I laid no restraint upon this inclination
+whilst I observed her attentive to supply the daily wants of each. On
+Thursday morning I had the mortification to find her bird-cages dirty,
+and the glasses for food and water almost empty. I made no remark, but
+proceeded to the room where she keeps her silk-worms. The trays were
+filled with dead leaves, which the poor insects crawled over, vainly
+endeavouring to find a piece sufficiently moist to satisfy their craving
+appetite. From thence I went to the rabbits, and found them without
+victuals, and so hungry that they had begun to gnaw the belts of the
+hutches. I inquired for Emma, but was some time before I could discover
+where she was. At length I found her very busy in making a garden with
+her brother George, so much taken up with her new employment that she
+had totally forgotten to clean or feed her poor prisoners. When I told
+her the situation they were in she shed tears and reproached herself
+with great neglect. She did not lose a moment in making all the
+reparation in her power, but immediately left the garden that had so
+much engrossed her thoughts and supplied her dumb family with suitable
+food and attendance. This circumstance afforded me an opportunity of
+expressing my sentiments on depriving birds of their liberty, and
+confining them in cages, a custom I cannot approve, as it not only
+subjects them to suffer much when they are first caught, but frequently
+exposes them to a cruel death from the negligence of those who have the
+care of them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 407px;">
+<img src="images/i183.jpg" width="407" height="600" alt="George was despatched to desire one of the servants to
+bring a basket, in which we carried the poor sufferer.&mdash;Page 179." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>George was despatched to desire one of the servants to
+bring a basket, in which we carried the poor sufferer.&mdash;Page 179.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Cowper has written some pleasing lines on a goldfinch starved to death
+in a cage, which Emma has learned by heart, and will repeat when I have
+finished reading. Her concern was so great for her carelessness that she
+offered to let her birds fly, and turn the rabbits out on the common.
+Pleased with her intention to do right, I gave her high commendations;
+but informed her that they were rendered unable to provide for
+themselves by being kept in a state of confinement, and therefore even
+liberty would be a barbarous gift to them now. Punctuality in supplying
+them with everything necessary was the only kindness that can be shown
+to them, since they have forgotten the habits of their state of Nature.
+She has been very exact since this conversation in feeding and cleaning
+them, and does everything in her power to make amends for their loss of
+freedom.</p>
+
+<p>'<i>Friday.</i>&mdash;As we were walking through the meadows Caroline observed
+something white lying near a hedge. Curiosity tempted us to approach it.
+As we drew near we found it was a young lamb almost dead, by some
+accident abandoned by its dam. Its helpless condition called forth our
+pity, and we consulted how we should contrive to carry it home. After
+much deliberation George was despatched to desire one of the servants to
+bring a basket, in which we carried the poor sufferer. Cold and hunger
+were its principal disorders, which were soon relieved by the assiduity
+of my humane companions. We chafed it by the fire, whilst another
+prepared bread and milk, that it might suck through a quill. Caroline
+could not sleep, lest the lamb should suffer for want of food, but rose
+several times in the night to give it nourishment.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> Such kind treatment
+soon restored it to health. It is decorated with a blue ribbon about its
+neck, and is already become a general favourite.</p>
+
+<p>'<i>Saturday.</i>&mdash;George has been so much taken up in playing with the lamb
+this morning that he has suffered himself to be called three times to
+attend Mr. Spicer, his writing-master, before he made any reply, and
+when he did come, I am sorry to say that the blots in his copy-book
+showed that his attention was not fixed upon his employment. After some
+reproof he acknowledged his fault, and wrote another copy in his very
+best manner.</p>
+
+<p>'I have now finished the account of the most remarkable transactions of
+this week, and though I am sensible that it exposes the levity and
+thoughtlessness of my pupils, I flatter myself that there are some marks
+in the disposition of each which promise improvement and more caution
+for the time to come.'</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p>
+<h2>Ellen and George</h2>
+
+<h4>or</h4>
+
+<h3>The Game at Cricket</h3>
+
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i186dc.jpg" width="161" height="150" alt="" class="cap" />
+
+
+<p class="cap_2">Sit down, Ellen,' said Mrs. Danvers to a lovely little girl of seven
+years of age, who was constantly jumping up to the window, instead of
+continuing to look at the book she was holding in her hand, but Ellen
+continued to look anywhere rather than at her book, and her mother began
+to feel angry.</p></div>
+
+<p>The sun shone very brightly; it was a fine day in the month of June, and
+little Ellen thought it very hard that she was obliged to sit in the
+house instead of running about the fields with her brother George.</p>
+
+<p>George was at home for the holidays; he was a fine boy of about nine
+years of age, and very fond of his sister Ellen; he would very often
+leave his companions to play with Ellen at quieter games than such as he
+engaged in with them, and Ellen was delighted when he would thus indulge
+her; but on this morning George was with a party of young lads, somewhat
+older than himself, who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> were engaged in a game of cricket, and poor
+Ellen was obliged to go through her morning's task without him.</p>
+
+<p>'Should you not like to go and see George play by-and-by?' said Mrs.
+Danvers.</p>
+
+<p>'I should like it very much, mother,' replied Ellen in a tone of
+delight.</p>
+
+<p>'Then mind your book now,' said her mother, 'and we will afterwards walk
+down to the cricket-field together. Father will be at home then,
+perhaps, and we shall have a nice walk together.'</p>
+
+<p>For a few minutes Ellen looked in her book; she was very fond of her
+father and of walking out with him, but not even this promised scheme of
+pleasure could prevent her eyes from wandering every five minutes to the
+window, and at length a shout from the boys, who were in the field
+adjoining the house, entirely overcame her resolution, and again she
+made a sudden spring to the window.</p>
+
+<p>The book was a sad drawback to Ellen's happiness, for she never looked
+in it unless obliged, and her mother had always great difficulty in
+fixing her attention on it when she wished to do so.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Danvers rose from her seat, and quietly lowered the venetian blind,
+and Ellen again stole back to her seat. She looked out of the corner of
+one of her little blue eyes to see if her mother was angry, and again
+for a few minutes was very assiduous. Presently the room door opened,
+and a servant entered to say that a poor woman wished to speak to his
+mistress. Mrs. Danvers desired that the woman should be shown into the
+room, and she entered, leading in her hand a little girl about the age
+of Ellen. Ellen's eyes were immediately diverted from her book, but her
+mother on this occasion said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>The poor woman came to entreat assistance for her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> sick husband, who was
+unable to go to his work, and for her little girl, who had cut her
+finger very badly. The child's finger was covered with a piece of rag,
+which was soaked with blood, and tears streaming from her eyes showed
+that she was in pain.</p>
+
+<p>'How was the finger cut?' said Mrs. Danvers.</p>
+
+<p>'In helping father cut a piece of wood to mend Charley's hayfork,'
+replied the child. 'Father fell down in a fit, and let the knife fall
+upon my finger.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is a bad cut,' said Mrs. Danvers. 'Run, Ellen, and ask Sarah for
+some rag, and we will tie it up for her.'</p>
+
+<p>Ellen was out of the room in a minute, for she liked running about and
+waiting upon anyone in distress. Indeed, Ellen was on the whole a good
+little girl, though she could not be made to like either her book or her
+work. She soon returned with the rag, and Mrs. Danvers tied up the
+little girl's finger, and gave her a nice slice of cake to divert her
+attention from the pain she was suffering.</p>
+
+<p>'Is it painful now?' said Mrs. Danvers.</p>
+
+<p>'No, madam,' replied the child, but she still continued to cry.</p>
+
+<p>'Then do not cry any more, and it will be soon well.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mary does not cry so much about the pain, madam,' said the poor woman,
+'as because you see it is her thimble finger;' and she held the little
+girl's hand up.</p>
+
+<p>Ellen thought this could be no very great misfortune, but Ellen was a
+silly little girl to think so, and so she was convinced when the poor
+woman said that Mary did needlework enough to keep her in shoes, and
+with the pennies she got by reading her book well at school she had
+bought two nice pinafores out of her own money.</p>
+
+<p>Ellen looked a little foolish and hung her head. The poor woman and the
+industrious little girl left the room<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> after Mrs. Danvers had promised
+to call on the sick man in the evening, and Ellen again took up her
+book.</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid you will never get any pennies for reading well,' said Mrs.
+Danvers in a few minutes, for again Ellen's eyes were off her book. The
+kitten had frisked into the room; it was playing with a cork under the
+sofa, and Ellen laughed aloud as she saw it turn round, and over and
+over.</p>
+
+<p>'If you like the kitten better than George,' said Mrs. Danvers, 'you may
+continue looking at it, and stay at home and read when your father and I
+go out into the fields by-and-by.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then pray, mother, put the kitten out of the room,' said Ellen. Mrs.
+Danvers did so, and again Ellen seated herself on her little stool with
+her book.</p>
+
+<p>Ellen now really applied to her book, for she was very much afraid of
+being left at home when her father and mother went out for their walk.
+It was very little trouble to her to learn when she gave her attention
+to her lessons, and at length she got over them very creditably and
+without another word of reproof from mother.</p>
+
+<p>'Now, Ellen,' said Mrs. Danvers, when the book was closed, 'if you had
+attended to your lessons at once it would have been over long since, and
+by this time you might have finished your work, and have been running in
+the field or garden. It is twelve o'clock, but I must have this
+handkerchief hemmed before you move.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh dear,' said Ellen, with a most sorrowful look, 'I thought I should
+have gone out now. What a happy boy George is. Oh dear, I wish I was a
+boy, and then I should be running about all day, and should not be
+obliged to work.'</p>
+
+<p>'You would not be obliged to work with your needle,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> Ellen,' said Mrs.
+Danvers, as she turned down the hem of the handkerchief, 'but you would
+have a great many things to learn much harder than you have now, and
+which would take you a great deal of time to get by heart unless you
+were more attentive than you frequently are.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I am sure I could learn them, mother,' answered Ellen; 'besides,
+George has nothing to do&mdash;nothing but to play and amuse himself all day
+long.'</p>
+
+<p>'This is not the case when George is at school, I can tell you, Ellen,'
+replied Mrs. Danvers, 'nor is it always the case, you know, at home, and
+I much question whether the days that George sits down with his father
+for a few hours after breakfast are not happier days generally than
+those which he spends exactly in the manner he himself chooses.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I think he is generally laughing and merry,' said Ellen, 'when he
+sets off after breakfast into the hayfield, or the cricket meadow; much
+more so than when he walks with his grave face and his book under his
+arm into father's study.'</p>
+
+<p>'And I very well remember, Ellen,' replied Mrs. Danvers, 'that this
+merry mood of his, which you think so delightful, has more than once
+ended in a flood of tears before night, while, on the contrary, I think
+the grave study countenance is generally turned into lasting smiles by
+dinner-time. But if you continue chatting the work will never be done.
+Sit quietly, and be industrious for half an hour, and then we will go
+into the garden together, and see if the gardener has any strawberries
+for us; I dare say George's companions will like some strawberries and
+milk after their game.'</p>
+
+<p>While Ellen is attending to her mother's directions, and industriously
+performing the task required of her; we will take a view of George and
+his young companions,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> and see whether or not he is likely to be tired
+of his day of idleness.</p>
+
+<p>George had got up very early in the morning to prepare the wickets for
+the game of cricket, which had been proposed to him by several lads
+living in the neighbourhood. If the young reader is a little girl and
+not a cricket player herself, she must ask her brothers or cousins to
+describe to her what are wickets, and if neither of these are near her
+she must ask her father, who will no doubt be very happy to give her the
+desired information. George had been awake very early indeed, but as he
+had had a strict injunction never to be out of doors before the gardener
+and groom were at their work, he had lain in bed till he heard the
+stable-door opened, and then, hastily jumping up and dressing himself,
+had said his prayers, and was downstairs before the clock struck five.
+He then went to what he called his toolhouse, which was a little shed by
+the side of the greenhouse, where the gardeners kept their
+watering-pots, and where he had a box containing a hammer, a saw, and a
+plane adapted to the use of young hands, and a small box containing
+nails. He had also here a repository of pieces of wood thrown aside by
+the carpenter, and old sides and covers of boxes, which were no longer
+of any service for the uses for which they were designed, and here it
+was that George's day of pleasure commenced. He hammered and chopped and
+sawed like any workman toiling for his bread till eight o'clock, which
+was the hour for breakfast, when, being somewhat hot and tired, he was
+not very sorry to hear the summons to a good plateful of bread and
+butter, and a fine sweet draught of new milk. Young spirits are soon
+refreshed, and George did not sit long at his breakfast; the meal was
+soon despatched, and George again was out of doors and in his toolhouse.
+Hither Ellen had accompanied him for a few minutes to see the wickets
+completed, and, when finished, she had left him, longing to make one of
+the party who were now assembling to their play, and with whom she left
+him to return into the house, and join her mother in the drawing-room.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 413px;">
+<img src="images/i192.jpg" width="413" height="600" alt="Hither Ellen accompanied him to see the wickets
+completed.&mdash;Page 186." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>Hither Ellen accompanied him to see the wickets
+completed.&mdash;Page 186.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The boys soon began to play, and for some time the game went on very
+well&mdash;all was high good humour; but George was the least of the party,
+and not having played so frequently, and not being so strong, did not
+get as many notches as many of his companions. At school he had been
+more accustomed to play with less boys, and perhaps with boys even less
+than himself, where he was the best player of the set, and he could not
+help feeling mortified now that he found himself the worst player, and
+not being able to keep in at all against boys who played with so much
+more skill than he did. Sometimes he would not have minded this, but the
+day was very hot, George had risen early, began to be tired, and, as the
+truth must be told on these occasions, rather cross and pettish. Several
+games had been played, all of which had been won by the set of boys of
+the side opposite to that of George, for as four of the lads with whom
+he played were good players, and the fifth, Tom Fletcher, a much better
+player than George, the consequence was that Tom and his two companions
+were always on the successful side. One of the best players, Charles
+Wilson, then proposed to make an alteration in the sides; he asked
+George to come over to him and his companions, and let Tom Fletcher take
+his place; 'And then we shall see,' he added, 'which plays the best, you
+or Tom.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, you think you know already,' said George, not in the best of
+humours, and throwing down his bat. 'I don't want to play at all, and I
+know I go for nothing.'</p>
+
+<p>'The young man is up,' said Wilson's companion,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> Stevens. 'Never mind,
+let him go; we shall do very well without him,' and he was taking up the
+discarded bat; but Wilson, who was a very good-natured boy, said:</p>
+
+<p>'We do not think you go for nothing, George; but it is not likely you
+should play so well as we do, who are so much bigger than you, or than
+Tom Fletcher, who lives with a bat in his hand, and always plays amongst
+the great boys. I only wanted to make the game more even, for it is very
+tiresome for one party always to win, and the others to lose. Come, let
+us play on again as we were, and perhaps you may be more lucky. Come,
+Tom, take up the bat.'</p>
+
+<p>Stevens looked very angry, and was about to make some provoking reply;
+but the other boys reminded him that they were playing in Mr. Danvers'
+ground, and there was no ground like his in the neighbourhood, so the
+ball was again bowled, and the bat once more sent it whirling back
+through the long field.</p>
+
+<p>'Well done, little fellow!' said Wilson, as George again took the bat,
+and gave a pretty good hit. 'Well done; you'll soon play very well. Tom,
+take care of yourself, and mind your play, or we shall lose a game
+against them now.'</p>
+
+<p>'Not if you mind your play,' replied the sharp Tom Fletcher, who saw
+that Wilson in bowling favoured George, and gave him balls that he could
+hardly help hitting. George exerted himself to the uttermost, and really
+did play better than he had done before; but his party would not have
+got the game but for the good-nature of Wilson, who did not put out his
+best play, and whose party for the first time were losers. Wilson was
+not right in doing this, because, even in a game of cricket, he ought to
+have been true to his side, and played his best. It was practising
+deceit, and deceit is never to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> practised harmlessly. Neither was
+George much gratified by his success, for he felt he had gained it in a
+childish manner, and it would have been more honest to have lost the
+game. Tom Fletcher and Stevens were both extremely angry, and both
+declared they would not be beat in that way to please the humours of any
+young pet. Tom said he would be matched singly against George, and the
+other two boys agreed it would be the fairest way, and also for them to
+be matched against Stevens and Wilson, and then they should see where
+all the strength lay. Everybody agreed to this, and the two younger boys
+were to have the first game. Tom was to give George two notches to begin
+with, to which George had no objection, as Tom was allowed to be a very
+capital player for his age, and the two young antagonists commenced
+their game. For some time they went on pretty evenly. Tom was very cool
+and cautious, and George, who put out all his strength, got several
+notches, and continued ahead of his rival. It almost seemed doubtful
+whether George was not a better player than he had been taken for, and
+as the lads who were looking on cried out, 'Now, George,' 'Now, Tom,'
+George seemed to have as good a chance of the game as Tom. But Tom was
+not fagged as George was, nor was he so hasty in his temper. He was not
+at all moved at the show of adverse fortune against him, while George
+was in a complete agitation, and on the very first reverse so put out
+that he bit his lip with anger, and flung at the bowler with great
+violence the ball which he had missed. It took the direction of Tom
+Fletcher's eyebrow, narrowly escaping his eye, and the boy put up his
+hand in agony to his enlarged forehead.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I am very sorry, Tom,' said George, who had most unintentionally
+done the mischief.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I don't mind a bit,' replied Tom, who was a very hardy boy. 'Stand
+to your bat, man.' And with one hand held to his aching head, he bowled
+sharply with the other, and dashed away the wickets.</p>
+
+<p>'It is hardly fair play, for he was off his guard,' said one of the
+other boys.</p>
+
+<p>'If Tom could bowl with that black eye,' said Stevens, 'I think George
+has no right to complain.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't complain,' said George, throwing down his bat. 'It's my own
+fault; I was in a passion. The game is yours, Tom.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, the game is not mine yet, George,' said Tom, 'even if you go out
+now, for though you sent the ball in a passion, I had no right to take
+you in as I did. I was in a passion, too, or I should not have bowled
+upon you so sharp. Come, give me your hand, and then take up the bat,
+man, and we will see what we can do.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then take back your two notches to set against the black eye,' said
+George, giving his hand. Tom, however, would not agree to this, and it
+was at length settled that they should go on as if nothing had happened.
+George took up the bat, and Tom returned to the bowling place. George's
+notches increased rapidly, but it was evident the cause of this was in
+Tom's eye, which by this time was almost closed, though the spirited boy
+did not once complain of pain. George requested him not to go on, but he
+persisted in bowling till his opponent threw down the bat, declaring it
+was not fair play, and he did not want to beat in that mean way.</p>
+
+<p>All the boys agreed that George was right, and it was determined that
+the two young ones should defer their trial of skill till Tom had
+recovered the use of his eye, and the bigger boys then commenced their
+game.</p>
+
+<p>It was at this period of the day that Mrs. Danvers and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> Ellen, after
+having taken a walk round the garden, and collected plenty of
+strawberries and cherries from the gardener, arrived in the
+cricket-field to inquire if the lads wished for any refreshment. George
+felt ashamed, as he remembered Tom Fletcher's eye, and the good-natured
+boy stepped forwards to speak to Mrs. Danvers, and draw attention from
+Tom to himself. The accident, however, could not be concealed; and
+though Tom declared that it was nothing, Mrs. Danvers was sure that he
+must be suffering great pain, and begged of him to go into the house and
+have his eye bathed. Fletcher replied that he had better go home, for
+his mother had a lotion that cured all sorts of bruises; and saying that
+he would be up in the cricket-field again before the other game was
+over, he bounded over the stile that separated one field from the next,
+and was out of sight in a minute. The other lads, who were just
+beginning their game, took some fruit of Mrs. Danvers, but declined at
+present going into the house; and after standing a few minutes with
+Ellen to look at the players, Mrs. Danvers persuaded George to accompany
+her into the house, for she saw that he was not very comfortable, and
+the day was intensely hot.</p>
+
+<p>As they walked along, Mrs. Danvers said nothing about the black eye, for
+she thought that it had happened through some hastiness of George. She
+found by his manner he was ashamed of himself for something, and she
+knew, as he was an honest boy, that when he was in a little better
+humour than he appeared at present he would relate to her everything
+that had passed. On arriving in the house, Mr. Danvers met them, and
+requested Mrs. Danvers to walk down into the village to see the poor man
+who had fallen down in a fit, and inquire if he wanted any assistance.
+Mrs. Danvers immediately<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> complied, and recommending George to amuse
+himself with his sister during the rest of the morning, she left the
+house, and took the road to the village.</p>
+
+<p>'John has not taken that donkey home,' said Mrs. Danvers, as they passed
+through a small field where there was one picking in the hedges.</p>
+
+<p>'No,' replied Mr. Danvers, 'but I wish he would do so, for the animal
+only destroys the beauty of the hedges, and endeavours to make ugly gaps
+in them. It is not at all fit for the children to ride.' And they
+proceeded in their walk.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as his father and mother were gone, George threw himself upon
+the carpet on his back, for he was very tired, very cross, and very
+stiff.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh dear, what a tiresome day this is!' said he, as he rolled over on
+the carpet. 'I wish it was over and bedtime was come.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, you have done nothing but play all day,' said Ellen. Now Ellen
+felt as brisk and as merry as she had done the very earliest part of the
+morning, and could not help wondering what could be the matter with
+George that he was not equally so.</p>
+
+<p>'It is so hot&mdash;so very hot,' said George. The kind little Ellen took her
+stool, and, standing on tiptoe, and reaching up to the top of the
+blinds, at the risk of her neck, at length succeeded in pulling them
+down, and prevented the sun from shining into George's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, how dark you have made the room, child,' said George.</p>
+
+<p>'I thought you would like to have the sun shut out, George,' said the
+affectionate little Ellen, with a tear starting into her eyes, because
+George <i>would not</i> be pleased with her.</p>
+
+<p>George saw the tear, and was vexed with himself that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> he had caused it;
+but at present he was not sufficiently subdued to say he was sorry, and
+he continued to roll upon the carpet backwards and forwards, till he
+rolled over against a small rose-wood cabinet which stood in one corner
+of the apartment. The slender fabric shook, and down rolled a beautiful
+little vase, which had been sent for Mrs. Danvers by a particular
+friend, and on which both the children knew she set a great value.
+George started up, and he and Ellen looked at each other. The vase was
+broken into twenty pieces. Ellen burst into tears, and George looked
+very sorrowful; but the vase was broken, and could not be restored. At
+this moment the door was opened, and a little favourite terrier dog
+bounded into the room, and began to play amongst the scattered
+fragments. He was followed by a servant, from whom he had made his
+escape, for she had been ordered to wash the dog, and the dog had
+resisted, and ran away from the bath designed for him.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, what a piece of work is here,' said the servant. 'Pompey, you
+little tiresome thing; now to come bouncing in here, and making all this
+mischief. What will mistress say when she sees her china broken, and all
+through you, you little tiresome puppy?'</p>
+
+<p>George and Ellen looked at each other for a moment. Had they not been
+well instructed to abhor a lie, and speak the truth, the temptation was
+a strong one, and they might have yielded to it; but they knew that
+although they might deceive the servant, there was One who could not be
+deceived, and by an instantaneous movement of honesty they both at once
+exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>'It was not poor Pompey, Ann; it was&mdash;&mdash;' Here Ellen stopped, unwilling
+to accuse her brother; but George with great firmness added: 'It was I,
+Ann.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, it's a sad business,' said Ann, 'but I dare say<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> my mistress will
+not be very angry. I am sure I should not have known but what it was
+Pompey;' and in saying this Ann, who was herself a good well-principled
+girl, silently resolved that her mistress should certainly know how the
+young gentleman and lady 'scorned,' as she said, 'to tell a lie.'</p>
+
+<p>Pompey was now removed, and George and Ellen were again left together.
+Ellen picked up the broken pieces, and then asked George if he had not
+better go and dress himself. 'His nice clean trousers,' she said, 'were
+quite green and dirty from rubbing about upon the grass, and the flue of
+the carpet was come off upon his jacket.' George, however, was not yet
+quite himself, though he was very much softened by the last misfortune.
+Ellen then asked him if she should get some quiet play for him&mdash;maps,
+puzzles, or bricks? But nothing would go right with George this day; all
+Ellen's efforts to amuse him were in vain, and at length he resolved
+upon going out of doors again. Ellen reminded him that mother had
+recommended him to stay indoors.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, but she did not order me,' said George; 'besides, I think I ought
+to go down and ask how Tom Fletcher is, for I gave him that horrible
+blow in his face.'</p>
+
+<p>'But you could not help it, I am sure,' said Ellen.</p>
+
+<p>'I did not do it on purpose,' said George, 'but I did it in a passion,
+and that is as bad.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, this unlucky day,' said Ellen, 'and this morning I thought you so
+happy, but I think you had better stay till evening before you go down
+to Mr. Fletcher's. I am sure mother thought you had better stay quiet
+this morning, and mother is always so kind.'</p>
+
+<p>George felt all this, and went out of the room, and returned into it
+several times, from irresolution and dissatisfaction with himself. He
+kissed Ellen, and told her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> not to mind his being cross, upon which she
+threw her arm across his shoulder, and entreated him to sit quietly at
+home, and not to go out and heat himself and make himself uncomfortable
+just as he was beginning to get cool.</p>
+
+<p>George seemed to long to stay with Ellen, and even when he got to steps
+which led from the hall into the pleasure-grounds, he went very slowly
+down, dragging one leg after the other, half inclined to return, but at
+this moment that frisking little Pompey came by looking very bright and
+clean after his washing, and he jumped upon George, and invited him to
+play. George then gave him a call, and they bounded together over the
+fields and hedges, and were very soon lost to the sight of Ellen, who
+returned into the house, and could scarcely refrain from shedding tears.</p>
+
+<p>George passed with his frolicsome companion through the same field where
+Mr. and Mrs. Danvers had noticed the donkey browsing in the hedges, and
+the animal was still browsing, and picking up nettles and flowers, and
+enjoying his freedom. George might just as well have walked quietly
+through the field, and have left the poor donkey to his repast, but he
+was in a very odd sort of a humour still, and thought it would be very
+good fun to have a little scamper round the field upon the donkey's
+back. He had heard his father and mother say that the donkey had never
+been properly broken in, and that he was not fit to be ridden, but
+George thought that if he could ride a pony, which he sometimes did, he
+certainly could ride a donkey, and at any rate he was determined to try.
+He went back to the stable therefore to ask the groom for a halter, but
+the groom was not in the stable, unfortunately, or he would have known
+better, it is to be hoped, than to have encouraged the young gentleman<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>
+in what he knew to be wrong. So George helped himself to an old piece of
+rope which he found under the cartshed, and, taking a small hunting-whip
+of his own, returned to the field with the intention of having a good
+ride. He had some difficulty in catching the animal, which was better
+pleased to graze at liberty than to be confined, and have a burthen put
+upon his back. It must be owned, nevertheless, that it was not a very
+heavy burthen preparing for him, nothing compared to the great weights
+many, many poor donkeys are compelled to toil under, and never stopping
+to rest, perhaps, from morning till night. Still, the donkey had rather
+been left in the hedges, and many a race round and round the field did
+he give George, and many a time did he kick up his hinder legs in
+defiance before George at length succeeded in throwing the halter over
+his head. The mighty feat, however, was, after repeated failures,
+accomplished, and George felt not a little satisfied when he found
+himself safely seated on the animal. He certainly was seated, but as to
+riding, it was what the donkey seemed resolved he should not do, and
+there he continued to sit, perfectly still and quiet, for some minutes,
+for although the animal had shown great fleetness and alacrity when
+George was attempting to stop him, it was very different now George was
+endeavouring to make him go on. George kicked as hard as he could kick
+with both his heels, and flogged with all his might, but the stubborn
+beast would not stir an inch. He then got off his back, and led him into
+the road, which he had some difficulty in accomplishing, and when there
+he would not go a bit better than in the field. He had no preference to
+the turnpike road, and George, after fatiguing himself, and getting into
+a violent heat by beating and thumping the animal's impenetrable skin,
+considered that he had better get him back again into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> the field, and
+there leave him. But here again the stubborn beast perplexed him; he
+would not budge an inch, no, not even when George pulled and dragged him
+by the halter till his arms ached so much he was obliged to desist. Now
+what was to be done? The donkey was not his father's; it was borrowed.
+If he left it on the road it would be lost or stolen, and as to riding
+it or leading it away it seemed entirely impossible. He was standing in
+not a very happy mood, and leaning against the donkey's neck, when a
+butcher's boy came jogging along upon his shaggy and bareboned pony.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you want to get him on, sir?' said the boy.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, but he won't stir,' said George.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, trust me to making him stir,' replied the hatless, greasy-haired
+lad. 'Get upon his back, sir, and I'll send him on for you.'</p>
+
+<p>George was upon his back in a minute, but with all the famed prowess of
+the butcher's boy as a donkey driver, and with all George's renewed
+thumps and kicks, the animal would not move from the spot where he had
+fixed himself. The butcher's boy was quite in a rage, and he was venting
+his spleen upon the stubbornness of all donkeys, and of this donkey in
+particular, when the sudden sound of a horn made both the donkey and the
+pony prick up their ears. In a few moments a stage coach was in sight,
+and in a few more the horn and the rattling wheels approached with great
+velocity towards the two equestrians. George would have jumped off to
+save himself from being run over, but the donkey saved him for the
+present the trouble. All his energies were suddenly roused, and he
+darted forward in a pelting gallop; the butcher's pony did the same.
+Away they both flew before the leaders of the stage, scarcely distancing
+them by a horse's length, and all the passengers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> thought that mischief
+was inevitable. A gentleman on the box begged the coachman to pull in,
+but the coachman seemed to enjoy the fun, and only whipped on his
+horses. The pony and the donkey were still galloping furiously, both
+their riders keeping their seats. Butchers' boys always seem glued to
+their saddles, so that there appeared nothing astonishing in Jem
+Rattle's not getting a fall; but how George, without his saddle, and not
+much accustomed to riding, sat so long was something more remarkable.
+Whether he might have got to the end of his race without accident if his
+father and mother had not now appeared by the side of the road it is
+impossible to say; but certain it is that the sight of them diverted the
+attention which had before been entirely given to keeping his eye
+steadily before him. At the same instant the donkey gave a little curve
+out of the line in which he had been going, and most providential was it
+that he did so, for by this inclination George was thrown sufficiently
+to the right of the road to clear the wheels of the coach. The pony had
+given in some few minutes before, and the donkey, having once checked
+himself, stopped suddenly, and stood quietly by the roadside as if
+nothing had happened. The gentleman on the box now insisted upon the
+coachman's drawing up, to see if the young gentleman had sustained any
+injury; and Mr. and Mrs. Danvers, in a state of harassing alarm, also
+hastened to approach the spot.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. and Mrs. Danvers were more alarmed than George was hurt; he
+certainly got a few bruises, but he received no serious injury. He
+immediately jumped on his legs, and relieved the anxiety of his parents,
+when, after Mr. Danvers had thanked the gentleman for his kind
+interference, and joined with him in condemning the coachman for not
+having before checked his horses, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> coach drove on, and George joined
+his father and mother. The butcher boy was commissioned, with the
+promise of a shilling, to bring back the donkey to Mr. Danvers' field,
+and George looked not a little foolish as he began his walk home by the
+side of his father.</p>
+
+<p>'I thought you had been remaining quietly at home, George,' said Mrs.
+Danvers.</p>
+
+<p>'And certainly, if you had been out,' added Mr. Danvers, 'you had no
+business to have been riding that donkey. You must have heard me say
+that it was not fit to be ridden, for it is always playing tricks of
+some sort. And you may be very thankful that you did not get either a
+broken limb or a severe blow on your head.'</p>
+
+<p>George made no reply, but he burst into tears, for his ill-humour had
+now entirely given way to sorrow; and he continued crying as he walked
+by the side of his father.</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid you have too much indulgence,' said Mr. Danvers, 'and too
+much liberty in disposing of your time; you are not the happier for it,
+you see. When left to yourself to amuse yourself as you please the whole
+day, you almost constantly get into some trouble or other before the day
+is over. In future I shall take care that your time is better employed
+than in riding races with butchers' boys, and trying to tame
+incorrigible donkeys.'</p>
+
+<p>Here George tried to put his father right as to his riding with the
+butcher's boy being entirely accidental; but his sobs prevented his
+speaking articulately, and they had nearly arrived at home before Mr.
+and Mrs. Danvers could exactly understand how the accident had happened.</p>
+
+<p>'And how came Fletcher by his black eye?' said Mr. Danvers.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, that was done in a passion,' replied George.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> 'I was tired before I
+began to play, and I did not like to be beat by a boy so near my own
+size.'</p>
+
+<p>'And how would you have felt,' said Mr. Danvers, 'had you deprived your
+companion of the sight of his eye, which was very near being the case?
+Accidents of this sort have sometimes happened from cricket-balls; but
+this, instead of accidental, would have been the consequence of pettish
+ill-humour. I shall allow no more cricket for some days; indeed, I fear
+it will be some days before Fletcher will be well enough to play; and
+certainly I shall allow no more whole days of play.'</p>
+
+<p>'I wish you would not, father,' said George, 'for they always end
+unhappily; and you have not heard all the unhappiness of this.'</p>
+
+<p>George was endeavouring to commence his relation of the broken vase,
+when the lads from the cricket-field, who had just finished their game,
+approached to bid Mr. and Mrs. Danvers a good-morning, and inquire of
+their young companion why he and Tom Fletcher had not again joined them.
+In pity to the confusion visibly stamped on George's countenance, Mr.
+Danvers undertook to explain the cause of their absence, and begged that
+they themselves would come, whenever it was pleasant to them, to play in
+his field. As to Tom, he thought he would not be able to play again
+within a week; but on that day se'nnight, if his eye was well enough to
+allow of his playing, Mr. Danvers would himself take a part in the game,
+and he invited all the party to take tea and refreshments after its
+conclusion. The boys seemed delighted with this proposition, and took
+their leave, when George accompanied his father and mother into the
+house, where they were joined by little Ellen. The accident of the
+broken vase was related, at which Mrs. Danvers expressed great regret;
+but her vexation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> was accompanied with the pleasing reflection that the
+word of her children might be taken without scruple, for the
+good-natured Ann was not easy till she had informed her mistress of all
+that she knew respecting the accident.</p>
+
+<p>From this day, Ellen never wished that she was a boy to do nothing but
+play from morning till night. She saw, in the example of her brother
+George, that idleness generally leads to mischief, and consequently to
+unhappiness; and she felt how necessary it was to have performed her
+duty well before she could enjoy her play.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p>
+<h2>Waste Not, Want Not</h2>
+
+<h4>or</h4>
+
+<h3>Two Strings to Your Bow</h3>
+
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i208dc.jpg" width="150" height="150" alt="M" class="cap" />
+
+
+<p class="cap_2">Mr. Gresham, a Bristol merchant, who had, by honourable industry and
+economy, accumulated a considerable fortune, retired from business to a
+new house which he had built upon the Downs, near Clifton. Mr. Gresham,
+however, did not imagine that a new house alone could make him happy. He
+did not propose to live in idleness and extravagance; for such a life
+would have been equally incompatible with his habits and his principles.
+He was fond of children; and as he had no sons, he determined to adopt
+one of his relations. He had two nephews, and he invited both of them to
+his house, that he might have an opportunity of judging of their
+dispositions, and of the habits which they had acquired.</p></div>
+
+<p>Hal and Benjamin, Mr. Gresham's nephews, were about ten years old. They
+had been educated very differently. Hal was the son of the elder branch
+of the family. His father was a gentleman, who spent rather more than
+he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> could afford; and Hal, from the example of the servants in his
+father's family, with whom he had passed the first years of his
+childhood, learned to waste more of everything than he used. He had been
+told that 'gentlemen should be above being careful and saving'; and he
+had unfortunately imbibed a notion that extravagance was the sign of a
+generous disposition, and economy of an avaricious one.</p>
+
+<p>Benjamin, on the contrary, had been taught habits of care and foresight.
+His father had but a very small fortune, and was anxious that his son
+should early learn that economy ensures independence, and sometimes puts
+it in the power of those who are not very rich to be very generous.</p>
+
+<p>The morning after these two boys arrived at their uncle's they were
+eager to see all the rooms in the house. Mr. Gresham accompanied them,
+and attended to their remarks and exclamations.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, what an excellent motto!' exclaimed Ben, when he read the following
+words, which were written in large characters over the chimneypiece in
+his uncle's spacious kitchen&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'WASTE NOT, WANT NOT.'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>'"Waste not, want not!"' repeated his cousin Hal, in rather a
+contemptuous tone; 'I think it looks stingy to servants; and no
+gentleman's servants, cooks especially, would like to have such a mean
+motto always staring them in the face.'</p>
+
+<p>Ben, who was not so conversant as his cousin in the ways of cooks and
+gentleman's servants, made no reply to these observations.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Gresham was called away whilst his nephews were looking at the other
+rooms in the house. Some time afterwards he heard their voices in the
+hall.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Boys,' said he, 'what are you doing there?'</p>
+
+<p>'Nothing, sir,' said Hal. 'You were called away from us, and we did not
+know which way to go.'</p>
+
+<p>'And have you nothing to do?' said Mr. Gresham.</p>
+
+<p>'No, sir&mdash;nothing,' answered Hal in a careless tone, like one who was
+well content with the state of habitual idleness.</p>
+
+<p>'No, sir&mdash;nothing,' replied Ben, in a voice of lamentation.</p>
+
+<p>'Come,' said Mr. Gresham, 'if you have nothing to do, lads, will you
+unpack those two parcels for me?'</p>
+
+<p>The two parcels were exactly alike, both of them well tied up with good
+whipcord. Ben took his parcel to a table, and, after breaking off the
+sealing-wax, began carefully to examine the knot, and then to untie it.
+Hal stood still, exactly in the spot where the parcel was put into his
+hands, and tried, first at one corner and then at another, to pull the
+string off by force.</p>
+
+<p>'I wish these people wouldn't tie up their parcels so tight, as if they
+were never to be undone!' cried he, as he tugged at the cord; and he
+pulled the knot closer instead of loosening it. 'Ben! why, how did you
+get yours undone, man? What's in your parcel? I wonder what is in mine.
+I wish I could get this string off. I must cut it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh no,' said Ben, who now had undone the last knot of his parcel, and
+who drew out the length of string with exultation, 'don't cut it, Hal.
+Look what a nice cord this is, and yours is the same. It's a pity to cut
+it. "<i>Waste not, want not!</i>" you know.'</p>
+
+<p>'Pooh!' said Hal, 'what signifies a bit of packthread?'</p>
+
+<p>'It is whipcord,' said Ben.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 419px;">
+<img src="images/i211.jpg" width="419" height="600" alt="&#39;Oh, what an excellent motto!&#39; exclaimed Ben.&mdash;Page
+205." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>&#39;Oh, what an excellent motto!&#39; exclaimed Ben.&mdash;Page
+205.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Well, whipcord. What signifies a bit of whipcord? You can get a bit of
+whipcord twice as long as that for twopence, and who cares for twopence?
+Not I, for one! So here it goes,' cried Hal, drawing out his knife; and
+he cut the cord precipitately in sundry places.</p>
+
+<p>'Lads, have you undone the parcels for me?' said Mr. Gresham, opening
+the parlour door as he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, sir,' cried Hal; and he dragged off his half-cut, half-entangled
+string. 'Here's the parcel.'</p>
+
+<p>'And here's my parcel, uncle; and here's the string,' said Ben.</p>
+
+<p>'You may keep the string for your pains,' said Mr. Gresham.</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you, sir,' said Ben. 'What an excellent whipcord it is!'</p>
+
+<p>'And you, Hal,' continued Mr. Gresham&mdash;'you may keep your string, too,
+if it will be of any use to you.'</p>
+
+<p>'It will be of no use to me, thank you, sir,' said Hal.</p>
+
+<p>'No, I am afraid not, if this be it,' said his uncle, taking up the
+jagged knotted remains of Hal's cord.</p>
+
+<p>A few days after this Mr. Gresham gave to each of his nephews a new top.</p>
+
+<p>'But how's this?' said Hal. 'These tops have no strings. What shall we
+do for strings?'</p>
+
+<p>'I have a string that will do very well for mine,' said Ben; and he
+pulled out of his pocket the fine, long, smooth string which had tied up
+the parcel.</p>
+
+<p>With this he soon set up his top, which spun admirably well.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, how I wish I had but a string!' said Hal. 'What shall I do for a
+string? I'll tell you what: I can use the string that goes round my
+hat!'</p>
+
+<p>'But, then,' said Ben, 'what will you do for a hatband?'</p>
+
+<p>'I'll manage to do without one,' said Hal, and he took the string off
+his hat for his top.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was soon worn through, and he split his top by driving the peg too
+tightly into it. His Cousin Ben let him set up his the next day, but Hal
+was not more fortunate or more careful when he meddled with other
+people's things than when he managed his own. He had scarcely played
+half an hour before he split it by driving the peg too violently.</p>
+
+<p>Ben bore this misfortune with good-humour.</p>
+
+<p>'Come,' said he, 'it can't be helped; but give me the string, because
+<i>that</i> may still be of use for something else.'</p>
+
+<p>It happened some time afterwards that a lady, who had been intimately
+acquainted with Hal's mother at Bath&mdash;that is to say, who had frequently
+met her at the card-table during the winter&mdash;now arrived at Clifton. She
+was informed by his mother that Hal was at Mr. Gresham's, and her sons,
+who were <i>friends</i> of his, came to see him, and invited him to spend the
+next day with them.</p>
+
+<p>Hal joyfully accepted the invitation. He was always glad to go out to
+dine, because it gave him something to do, something to think of, or at
+least something to say. Besides this, he had been educated to think it
+was a fine thing to visit fine people; and Lady Diana Sweepstakes (for
+that was the name of his mother's acquaintance) was a very fine lady,
+and her two sons intended to be very <i>great</i> gentlemen. He was in a
+prodigious hurry when these young gentlemen knocked at his uncle's door
+the next day; but just as he got to the hall door little Patty called to
+him from the top of the stairs, and told him that he had dropped his
+pocket-handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>'Pick it up, then, and bring it to me, quick, can't you, child?' cried
+Hal, 'for Lady Di's sons are waiting for me.'</p>
+
+<p>Little Patty did not know anything about Lady Di's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> sons; but as she was
+very good-natured, and saw that her cousin Hal was, for some reason or
+other, in a desperate hurry, she ran downstairs as fast as she possibly
+could towards the landing-place, where the handkerchief lay; but, alas!
+before she reached the handkerchief, she fell, rolling down a whole
+flight of stairs, and when her fall was at last stopped by the
+landing-place, she did not cry out; she writhed, as if she was in great
+pain.</p>
+
+<p>'Where are you hurt, my love?' said Mr. Gresham, who came instantly on
+hearing the noise of someone falling downstairs. 'Where are you hurt, my
+dear?'</p>
+
+<p>'Here, papa,' said the little girl, touching her ankle, which she had
+decently covered with her gown. 'I believe I am hurt here, but not
+much,' added she, trying to rise; 'only it hurts me when I move.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'll carry you; don't move, then,' said her father, and he took her up
+in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>'My shoe! I've lost one of my shoes,' said she.</p>
+
+<p>Ben looked for it upon the stairs, and he found it sticking in a loop of
+whipcord, which was entangled round one of the banisters. When this cord
+was drawn forth, it appeared that it was the very same jagged, entangled
+piece which Hal had pulled off his parcel. He had diverted himself with
+running up and down stairs, whipping the banisters with it, as he
+thought he could convert it to no better use; and, with his usual
+carelessness, he at last left it hanging just where he happened to throw
+it when the dinner-bell rang. Poor little Patty's ankle was terribly
+strained, and Hal reproached himself for his folly, and would have
+reproached himself longer, perhaps, if Lady Di Sweepstakes' sons had not
+hurried him away.</p>
+
+<p>In the evening, Patty could not run about as she used to do; but she sat
+upon the sofa, and she said that she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> did not feel the pain of her ankle
+<i>so much</i> whilst Ben was so good as to play at <i>Jack Straws</i> with her.</p>
+
+<p>'That's right, Ben; never be ashamed of being good-natured to those who
+are younger and weaker than yourself,' said his uncle, smiling at seeing
+him produce his whipcord to indulge his little cousin with a game at her
+favourite cat's-cradle. 'I shall not think you one bit less manly,
+because I see you playing at cat's-cradle with a little child of six
+years old.'</p>
+
+<p>Hal, however, was not precisely of his uncle's opinion; for when he
+returned in the evening, and saw Ben playing with his little cousin, he
+could not help smiling contemptuously, and asked if he had been playing
+at cat's-cradle all night. In a heedless manner he made some inquiries
+after Patty's sprained ankle, and then he ran on to tell all the news he
+had heard at Lady Diana Sweepstakes'&mdash;news which he thought would make
+him appear a person of vast importance.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you know, uncle&mdash;do you know, Ben,' said he, 'there's to be the most
+<i>famous</i> doings that ever were heard of upon the Downs here, the first
+day of next month, which will be in a fortnight, thank my stars? I wish
+the fortnight was over. I shall think of nothing else, I know, till that
+happy day comes.'</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Gresham inquired why the first of September was to be so much
+happier than any other day in the year.</p>
+
+<p>'Why,' replied Hal, 'Lady Diana Sweepstakes, you know, is a <i>famous</i>
+rider, and archer, and <i>all that</i>&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Very likely,' said Mr. Gresham soberly; 'but what then?'</p>
+
+<p>'Dear uncle,' cried Hal, 'but you shall hear! There's to be a race upon
+the Downs on the first of September, and after the race there's to be an
+archery meeting for the ladies, and Lady Diana Sweepstakes is to be one
+of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> <i>them</i>. And after the ladies have done shooting&mdash;now, Ben, comes the
+best part of it!&mdash;we boys are to have our turn, and Lady Di is to give a
+prize to the best marksman amongst us of a very handsome bow and arrow.
+Do you know, I've been practising already, and I'll show you to-morrow,
+as soon as it comes home, the <i>famous</i> bow and arrow that Lady Diana has
+given me; but perhaps,' added he, with a scornful laugh, 'you like a
+cat's-cradle better than a bow and arrow.'</p>
+
+<p>Ben made no reply to this taunt at the moment; but the next day, when
+Hal's new bow and arrow came home, he convinced him that he knew how to
+use it very well.</p>
+
+<p>'Ben,' said his uncle, 'you seem to be a good marksman, though you have
+not boasted of yourself. I'll give you a bow and arrow, and perhaps, if
+you practise, you may make yourself an archer before the first of
+September; and, in the meantime, you will not wish the fortnight to be
+over, for you will have something to do.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, sir,' interrupted Hal, 'but if you mean that Ben should put in for
+the prize, he must have a uniform.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why <i>must</i> he?' said Mr. Gresham.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, sir, because everybody has&mdash;I mean everybody that's anybody; and
+Lady Diana was talking about the uniform all dinner time, and it's
+settled, all about it, except the buttons. The young Sweepstakes are to
+get theirs made first for patterns. They are to be white, faced with
+green, and they'll look very handsome, I'm sure; and I shall write to
+mother to-night, as Lady Diana bid me, about mine, and I shall tell her
+to be sure to answer my letter without fail by return of post; and then,
+if mother makes no objection&mdash;which I know she won't, because she never
+thinks much about expense, and <i>all that</i>&mdash;then I shall bespeak my
+uniform, and get<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> it made by the same tailor that makes for Lady Diana
+and the young Sweepstakes.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mercy upon us!' said Mr. Gresham, who was almost stunned by the rapid
+vociferation with which this long speech about a uniform was pronounced.
+'I don't pretend to understand these things,' added he, with an air of
+simplicity, 'but we will inquire, Ben, into the necessity of the case;
+and if it is necessary&mdash;or if you think it necessary that you shall have
+a uniform&mdash;why, I'll give you one.'</p>
+
+<p>'<i>You</i>, uncle? Will you, <i>indeed</i>?' exclaimed Hal, with amazement
+painted in his countenance. 'Well, that's the last thing in the world I
+should have expected! You are not at all the sort of person I should
+have thought would care about a uniform; and now I should have supposed
+you'd have thought it extravagant to have a coat on purpose only for one
+day. And I'm sure Lady Diana Sweepstakes thought as I do, for when I
+told her of that motto over your kitchen chimney&mdash;"<span class="smcap">waste not, want
+not</span>"&mdash;she laughed, and said that I had better not talk to you about
+uniforms, and that my mother was the proper person to write to about my
+uniform; but I'll tell Lady Diana, uncle, how good you are, and how much
+she was mistaken.'</p>
+
+<p>'Take care how you do that,' said Mr. Gresham, 'for perhaps the lady was
+not mistaken.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nay, did not you say just now you would give poor Ben a uniform?'</p>
+
+<p>'I said I would if he thought it necessary to have one.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I'll answer for it he'll think it necessary,' said Hal, laughing,
+'because it is necessary.'</p>
+
+<p>'Allow him, at least, to judge for himself,' said Mr. Gresham.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear uncle, but I assure you,' said Hal earnestly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> 'there's no
+judging about the matter, because really, upon my word, Lady Diana said
+distinctly that her sons were to have uniforms&mdash;white, faced with
+green&mdash;and a green and white cockade in their hats.'</p>
+
+<p>'May be so,' said Mr. Gresham, still with the same look of calm
+simplicity. 'Put on your hats, boys, and come with me. I know a
+gentleman whose sons are to be at this archery meeting, and we will
+inquire into all the particulars from him. Then, after we have seen
+him&mdash;it is not eleven o'clock yet&mdash;we shall have time enough to walk on
+to Bristol, and choose the cloth for Ben's uniform if it is necessary.'</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot tell what to make of all he says,' whispered Hal, as he
+reached down his hat. 'Do you think, Ben, he means to give you this
+uniform or not?'</p>
+
+<p>'I think,' said Ben, 'that he means to give me one if it is necessary;
+or, as he said, if I think it is necessary.'</p>
+
+<p>'And that to be sure you will, won't you? or else you'll be a great
+fool, I know, after all I've told you. How can anyone in the world know
+so much about the matter as I, who have dined with Lady Diana
+Sweepstakes but yesterday, and heard all about it from beginning to end?
+And as for this gentleman that we are going to, I'm sure, if he knows
+anything about the matter, he'll say exactly the same as I do.'</p>
+
+<p>'We shall hear,' said Ben, with a degree of composure which Hal could by
+no means comprehend when a uniform was in question.</p>
+
+<p>The gentleman upon whom Mr. Gresham called had three sons who were all
+to be at this archery meeting, and they unanimously assured him, in the
+presence of Hal and Ben, that they had not thought of buying uniforms
+for this grand occasion, and that, amongst the number of their
+acquaintance, they knew of but three<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> boys whose friends intended to be
+at such an <i>unnecessary</i> expense. Hal stood amazed.</p>
+
+<p>'Such are the varieties of opinion upon all the grand affairs of life,'
+said Mr. Gresham, looking at his nephews. 'What amongst one set of
+people you hear asserted to be absolutely necessary, you will hear from
+another set of people is quite unnecessary. All that can be done, my
+dear boys, in these difficult cases, is to judge for yourselves which
+opinions and which people are the most reasonable.'</p>
+
+<p>Hal, who had been more accustomed to think of what was fashionable than
+of what was reasonable, without at all considering the good sense of
+what his uncle said to him, replied with childish petulance:</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed, sir, I don't know what other people think; but I only know what
+Lady Diana Sweepstakes said.'</p>
+
+<p>The name of Lady Diana Sweepstakes, Hal thought, must impress all
+present with respect. He was highly astonished when, as he looked round,
+he saw a smile of contempt upon everyone's countenance; and he was yet
+further bewildered when he heard her spoken of as a very silly,
+extravagant, ridiculous woman, whose opinion no prudent person would ask
+upon any subject, and whose example was to be shunned instead of being
+imitated.</p>
+
+<p>'Ay, my dear Hal,' said his uncle, smiling at his look of amazement,
+'these are some of the things that young people must learn from
+experience. All the world do not agree in opinion about characters. You
+will hear the same person admired in one company and blamed in another;
+so that we must still come round to the same point&mdash;<i>Judge for
+yourself</i>.'</p>
+
+<p>Hal's thoughts were, however, at present too full of the uniform to
+allow his judgment to act with perfect impartiality. As soon as their
+visit was over, and all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> the time they walked down the hill from
+Prince's Buildings towards Bristol, he continued to repeat nearly the
+same arguments which he had formerly used respecting necessity, the
+uniform, and Lady Diana Sweepstakes. To all this Mr. Gresham made no
+reply, and longer had the young gentleman expatiated upon the subject,
+which had so strongly seized upon his imagination, had not his senses
+been forcibly assailed at this instant by the delicious odours and
+tempting sight of certain cakes and jellies in a pastrycook's shop.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, uncle,' said he, as his uncle was going to turn the corner to
+pursue the road to Bristol, 'look at those jellies!' pointing to a
+confectioner's shop. 'I must buy some of those good things, for I have
+got some halfpence in my pocket.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your having halfpence in your pocket is an excellent reason for
+eating,' said Mr. Gresham, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>'But I really am hungry,' said Hal. 'You know, uncle, it is a good while
+since breakfast.'</p>
+
+<p>His uncle, who was desirous to see his nephews act without restraint,
+that he might judge their characters, bid them do as they pleased.</p>
+
+<p>'Come, then, Ben, if you've any halfpence in your pocket.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'm not hungry,' said Ben.</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose <i>that</i> means that you've no halfpence,' said Hal, laughing,
+with the look of superiority which he had been taught to think <i>the
+rich</i> might assume towards those who were convicted either of poverty or
+economy.</p>
+
+<p>'Waste not, want not,' said Ben to himself.</p>
+
+<p>Contrary to his cousin's surmise, he happened to have two pennyworth of
+halfpence actually in his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>At the very moment Hal stepped into the pastrycook's shop a poor,
+industrious man with a wooden leg, who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> usually sweeps the dirty corner
+of the walk which turns at this spot to the Wells, held his hat to Ben,
+who, after glancing his eye at the petitioner's well-worn broom,
+instantly produced his twopence.</p>
+
+<p>'I wish I had more halfpence for you, my good man,' said he; 'but I've
+only twopence.'</p>
+
+<p>Hal came out of Mr. Millar's, the confectioner's shop, with a hatful of
+cakes in his hand. Mr. Millar's dog was sitting on the flags before the
+door, and he looked up with a wistful, begging eye at Hal, who was
+eating a queen-cake. Hal, who was wasteful even in his good-nature,
+threw a whole queen-cake to the dog, who swallowed it at a single
+mouthful.</p>
+
+<p>'There goes twopence in the form of a queen-cake,' said Mr. Gresham.</p>
+
+<p>Hal next offered some of his cakes to his uncle and cousin; but they
+thanked him, and refused to eat any, because, they said, they were not
+hungry; so he ate and ate as he walked along, till at last he stopped
+and said:</p>
+
+<p>'This bun tastes so bad after the queen-cakes, I can't bear it!' and he
+was going to fling it from him into the river.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, it is a pity to waste that good bun; we may be glad of it yet,'
+said Ben. 'Give it me rather than throw it away.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, I thought you said you were not hungry,' said Hal.</p>
+
+<p>'True, I am not hungry now; but that is no reason why I should never be
+hungry again.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, there is the cake for you. Take it, for it has made me sick, and
+I don't care what becomes of it.'</p>
+
+<p>Ben folded the refuse bit of his cousin's bun in a piece of paper, and
+put it into his pocket.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I'm beginning to be exceeding tired or sick or something,' said Hal;
+'and as there is a stand of coaches somewhere hereabouts, had we not
+better take a coach, instead of walking all the way to Bristol?'</p>
+
+<p>'For a stout archer,' said Mr. Gresham, 'you are more easily tired than
+one might have expected. However, with all my heart, let us take a
+coach, for Ben asked me to show him the cathedral yesterday; and I
+believe I should find it rather too much for me to walk so far, though I
+am not sick with eating good things.'</p>
+
+<p>'<i>The cathedral!</i>' said Hal, after he had been seated in the coach about
+a quarter of an hour, and had somewhat recovered from his sickness&mdash;'the
+cathedral! Why, are we only going to Bristol to see the cathedral? I
+thought we came out to see about a uniform.'</p>
+
+<p>There was a dulness and melancholy kind of stupidity in Hal's
+countenance as he pronounced these words, like one wakening from a
+dream, which made both his uncle and his cousin burst out a-laughing.</p>
+
+<p>'Why,' said Hal, who was now piqued, 'I'm sure you <i>did</i> say, uncle, you
+would go to Mr. Hall's to choose the cloth for the uniform.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very true, and so I will,' said Mr. Gresham; 'but we need not make a
+whole morning's work, need we, of looking at a piece of cloth? Cannot we
+see a uniform and a cathedral both in one morning?'</p>
+
+<p>They went first to the cathedral. Hal's head was too full of the uniform
+to take any notice of the painted window, which immediately caught Ben's
+embarrassed attention. He looked at the large stained figures on the
+Gothic window, and he observed their coloured shadows on the floor and
+walls.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Gresham, who perceived that he was eager on all subjects to gain
+information, took this opportunity of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> telling him several things about
+the lost art of painting on glass, Gothic arches, etc., which Hal
+thought extremely tiresome.</p>
+
+<p>'Come, come, we shall be late indeed!' said Hal. 'Surely you've looked
+long enough, Ben, at this blue and red window.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'm only thinking about these coloured shadows,' said Ben.</p>
+
+<p>'I can show you when we go home, Ben,' said his uncle, 'an entertaining
+paper upon such shadows.'<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p>
+
+<p>'Hark!' cried Ben; 'did you hear that noise?'</p>
+
+<p>They all listened, and they heard a bird singing in the cathedral.</p>
+
+<p>'It's our old robin, sir,' said the lad who had opened the cathedral
+door for them.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' said Mr. Gresham, 'there he is, boys&mdash;look&mdash;perched upon the
+organ; he often sits there, and sings whilst the organ is playing.'</p>
+
+<p>'And,' continued the lad who showed the cathedral, 'he has lived here
+these many, many winters. They say he is fifteen years old; and he is so
+tame, poor fellow! that if I had a bit of bread he'd come down and feed
+in my hand.'</p>
+
+<p>'I've a bit of bun here,' cried Ben joyfully, producing the remains of
+the bun which Hal but an hour before would have thrown away. 'Pray, let
+us see the poor robin eat out of your hand.'</p>
+
+<p>The lad crumbled the bun and called to the robin, who fluttered and
+chirped and seemed rejoiced at the sight of the bread; but yet he did
+not come down from his pinnacle on the organ.</p>
+
+<p>'He is afraid of <i>us</i>,' said Ben; 'he is not used to eat before
+strangers, I suppose.'</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span>'Ah, no, sir,' said the young man, with a deep sigh, 'that is not the
+thing. He is used enough to eat afore company. Time was he'd have come
+down for me before ever so many fine folks, and have eat his crumbs out
+of my hand at my first call; but, poor fellow! it's not his fault now.
+He does not know me now, sir, since my <i>accident</i>, because of this great
+black patch.'</p>
+
+<p>The young man put his hand to his right eye, which was covered with a
+huge black patch. Ben asked what <i>accident</i> he meant; and the lad told
+him that, but a few weeks ago, he had lost the sight of his eye by the
+stroke of a stone, which reached him as he was passing under the rocks
+at Clifton, unluckily when the workmen were blasting.</p>
+
+<p>'I don't mind so much for myself, sir,' said the lad; 'but I can't work
+so well now, as I used to do before my accident, for my old mother, who
+has had a <i>stroke</i> of the palsy; and I've a many little brothers and
+sisters not well able yet to get their own livelihood, though they be as
+willing as willing can be.'</p>
+
+<p>'Where does your mother live?' said Mr. Gresham.</p>
+
+<p>'Hard by, sir, just close to the church here. It was <i>her</i> that always
+had the showing of it to strangers, till she lost the use of her poor
+limbs.'</p>
+
+<p>'Shall we, may we, uncle, go that way? This is the house, is it not?'
+said Ben, when they went out of the cathedral.</p>
+
+<p>They went into the house. It was rather a hovel than a house; but, poor
+as it was, it was as neat as misery could make it. The old woman was
+sitting up in her wretched bed, winding worsted; four meagre,
+ill-clothed, pale children were all busy, some of them sticking pins in
+paper for the pin-maker, and others sorting rags for the paper-maker.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'What a horrid place it is!' said Hal, sighing; 'I did not know there
+were such shocking places in the world. I've often seen
+terrible-looking, tumble-down places, as we drove through the town in
+mother's carriage; but then I did not know who lived in them, and I
+never saw the inside of any of them. It is very dreadful, indeed, to
+think that people are forced to live in this way. I wish mother would
+send me some more pocket-money, that I might do something for them. I
+had half a crown; but,' continued he, feeling in his pockets, 'I'm
+afraid I spent the last shilling of it this morning upon those cakes
+that made me sick. I wish I had my shilling now; I'd give it to <i>these
+poor people</i>.'</p>
+
+<p>Ben, though he was all this time silent, was as sorry as his talkative
+cousin for all these poor people. But there was some difference between
+the sorrow of these two boys.</p>
+
+<p>Hal, after he was again seated in the hackney-coach, and had rattled
+through the busy streets of Bristol for a few minutes, quite forgot the
+spectacle of misery which he had seen, and the gay shops in Wine Street
+and the idea of his green and white uniform wholly occupied his
+imagination.</p>
+
+<p>'Now for our uniforms!' cried he, as he jumped eagerly out of the coach,
+when his uncle stopped at the woollen-draper's door.</p>
+
+<p>'Uncle,' said Ben, stopping Mr. Gresham before he got out of the
+carriage, 'I don't think a uniform is at all necessary for me. I'm very
+much obliged to you, but I would rather not have one. I have a very good
+coat, and I think it would be waste.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, let me get out of the carriage, and we will see about it,' said
+Mr. Gresham. 'Perhaps the sight of the beautiful green and white cloth,
+and the epaulette&mdash;have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> you ever considered the epaulettes?&mdash;may tempt
+you to change your mind.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, no,' said Ben, laughing; 'I shall not change my mind.'</p>
+
+<p>The green cloth and the white cloth and the epaulettes were produced, to
+Hal's infinite satisfaction. His uncle took up a pen, and calculated for
+a few minutes. Then showing the back of the letter upon which he was
+writing to his nephews:</p>
+
+<p>'Cast up these sums, boys,' said he, 'and tell me whether I am right.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ben, do you do it,' said Hal, a little embarrassed; 'I am not quick at
+figures.'</p>
+
+<p>Ben <i>was</i>, and he went over his uncle's calculation very expeditiously.</p>
+
+<p>'It is right, is it?' said Mr. Gresham.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, sir, quite right.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then, by this calculation I find I could, for less than half the money
+your uniforms would cost, purchase for each of you boys a warm
+greatcoat, which you will want, I have a notion, this winter upon the
+downs.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, sir,' said Hal with an alarmed look, 'but it is not winter <i>yet</i>;
+it is not cold weather <i>yet</i>. We shan't want greatcoats <i>yet</i>.'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't you remember how cold we were, Hal, the day before yesterday, in
+that sharp wind, when we were flying our kite upon the downs? and winter
+will come, though it is not come yet. I am sure I should like to have a
+good warm greatcoat very much.'</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Gresham took six guineas out of his purse; and he placed three of
+them before Hal and three before Ben.</p>
+
+<p>'Young gentlemen,' said he, 'I believe your uniforms would come to about
+three guineas apiece. Now I will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> lay out this money for you just as you
+please. Hal, what say you?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, sir,' said Hal, 'a greatcoat is a good thing, to be sure; and
+then, after the greatcoat, as you said it would only cost half as much
+as the uniform, there would be some money to spare, would not there?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, my dear, about five-and-twenty shillings.'</p>
+
+<p>'Five-and-twenty shillings? I could buy and do a great many things, to
+be sure, with five-and-twenty shillings; but then, <i>the thing is</i>, I
+must go without the uniform if I have the greatcoat.'</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly,' said his uncle.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah!' said Hal, sighing, as he looked at the epaulette, 'uncle, if you
+would not be displeased if I choose the uniform&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'I shall not be displeased at your choosing whatever you like best,'
+said Mr. Gresham.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, then, thank you, sir,' said Hal, 'I think I had better have the
+uniform, because, if I have not the uniform now directly, it will be of
+no use to me, as the archery meeting is the week after next, you know;
+and as to the greatcoat, perhaps between this time and the very cold
+weather, which perhaps won't be till Christmas, father will buy a
+greatcoat for me; and I'll ask mother to give me some pocket-money to
+give away, and she will, perhaps.'</p>
+
+<p>To all this conclusive, conditional reasoning, which depended upon the
+word <i>perhaps</i>, three times repeated, Mr. Gresham made no reply; but he
+immediately bought the uniform for Hal, and desired that it should be
+sent to Lady Diana Sweepstakes' sons' tailor to be made up. The measure
+of Hal's happiness was now complete.</p>
+
+<p>'And how am I to lay out the three guineas for you,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> Ben?' said Mr.
+Gresham. 'Speak; what do you wish for first?'</p>
+
+<p>'A greatcoat, uncle, if you please.'</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Gresham bought the coat, and after it was paid for five-and-twenty
+shillings of Ben's three guineas remained.</p>
+
+<p>'What next, my boy?' said his uncle.</p>
+
+<p>'Arrows, uncle, if you please&mdash;three arrows.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear, I promised you a bow and arrows.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, uncle, you only said a bow.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I meant a bow and arrows. I'm glad you are so exact, however. It
+is better to claim less than more than what is promised. The three
+arrows you shall have. But go on. How shall I dispose of these
+five-and-twenty shillings for you?'</p>
+
+<p>'In clothes, if you will be so good, uncle, for that poor boy who has
+the great black patch on his eye.'</p>
+
+<p>'I always believed,' said Mr. Gresham, shaking hands with Ben, 'that
+economy and generosity were the best friends, instead of being enemies,
+as some silly, extravagant people would have us think them. Choose the
+poor, blind boy's coat, my dear nephew, and pay for it. There's no
+occasion for my praising you about the matter. Your best reward is in
+your own mind, child; and you want no other, or I'm mistaken. Now jump
+into the coach, boys, and let's be off. We shall be late, I'm afraid,'
+continued he, as the coach drove on; 'but I must let you stop, Ben, with
+your goods, at the poor boy's door.'</p>
+
+<p>When they came to the house, Mr. Gresham opened the coach door, and Ben
+jumped out with his parcel under his arm.</p>
+
+<p>'Stay, stay! you must take me with you,' said his pleased uncle; 'I like
+to see people made happy as well as you do.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'And so do I, too,' said Hal. 'Let me come with you. I almost wish my
+uniform was not gone to the tailor's, so I do.' And when he saw the look
+of delight and gratitude with which the poor boy received the clothes
+which Ben gave him, and when he heard the mother and children thank him,
+Hal sighed, and said: 'Well, I hope mother will give me some more
+pocket-money soon.'</p>
+
+<p>Upon his return home, however, the sight of the <i>famous</i> bow and arrow,
+which Lady Diana Sweepstakes had sent him, recalled to his imagination
+all the joys of his green-and-white uniform, and he no longer wished
+that it had not been sent to the tailor's.</p>
+
+<p>'But I don't understand, Cousin Hal,' said little Patty, 'why you call
+this bow a <i>famous</i> bow. You say <i>famous</i> very often, and I don't know
+exactly what it means&mdash;a <i>famous</i> uniform, <i>famous</i> doings. I remember
+you said there are to be <i>famous</i> doings, the first of September, upon
+the Downs. What does <i>famous</i> mean?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, why <i>famous</i> means&mdash;now, don't you know what <i>famous</i> means? It
+means&mdash;it is a word that people say&mdash;it is the fashion to say it&mdash;it
+means&mdash;it means <i>famous</i>.'</p>
+
+<p>Patty laughed, and said:</p>
+
+<p>'<i>This</i> does not explain it to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'No,' said Hal, 'nor can it be explained. If you don't understand it,
+that's not my fault. Everybody but little children, I suppose,
+understands it; but there's no explaining <i>those sort</i> of words, if you
+don't <i>take them</i> at once. There's to be <i>famous</i> doings upon the Downs,
+the first of September&mdash;that is grand, fine. In short, what does it
+signify talking any longer, Patty, about the matter? Give me my bow, for
+I must go out upon the Downs and practise.'</p>
+
+<p>Ben accompanied him with the bow and the three arrows which his uncle
+had now given to him, and every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> day these two boys went out upon the
+Downs and practised shooting with indefatigable perseverance. Where
+equal pains are taken, success is usually found to be pretty nearly
+equal. Our two archers, by constant practice, became expert marksmen;
+and before the day of trial they were so exactly matched in point of
+dexterity that it was scarcely possible to decide which was superior.</p>
+
+<p>The long-expected first of September at length arrived. 'What sort of a
+day is it?' was the first question that was asked by Hal and Ben the
+moment that they awakened. The sun shone bright, but there was a sharp
+and high wind.</p>
+
+<p>'Ha!' said Ben, 'I shall be glad of my good greatcoat to-day, for I've a
+notion it will be rather cold upon the Downs, especially when we are
+standing still, as we must, whilst all the people are shooting.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, never mind. I don't think I shall feel it cold at all,' said Hal,
+as he dressed himself in his new green-and-white uniform; and he viewed
+himself with much complacency. 'Good-morning to you, uncle. How do you
+do?' said he, in a voice of exultation, when he entered the
+breakfast-room.</p>
+
+<p>'How do you do?' seemed rather to mean, 'How do you like me in my
+uniform?' and his uncle's cool, 'Very well, I thank you, Hal,'
+disappointed him, as it seemed only to say, 'Your uniform makes no
+difference in my opinion of you.'</p>
+
+<p>Even little Patty went on eating her breakfast much as usual, and talked
+of the pleasure of walking with her father to the Downs, and of all the
+little things which interested her, so that Hal's epaulettes were not
+the principal object in anyone's imagination but his own.</p>
+
+<p>'Father,' said Patty, 'as we go up the hill where there is so much red
+mud I must take care to pick my way<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> nicely, and I must hold up my
+frock, as you desired me, and perhaps you will be so good, if I am not
+troublesome, to lift me over the very bad place where are no
+stepping-stones. My ankle is entirely well, and I'm glad of that, or
+else I should not be able to walk so far as the Downs. How good you were
+to me, Ben, when I was in pain the day I sprained my ankle! You played
+at jack straws and at cat's-cradle with me. Oh, that puts me in mind!
+Here are your gloves which I asked you that night to let me mend. I've
+been a great while about them, but are not they very neatly mended,
+father? Look at the sewing.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am not a very good judge of sewing, my dear little girl,' said Mr.
+Gresham, examining the work with a close and scrupulous eye; 'but, in my
+opinion, here is one stitch that is rather too long. The white teeth are
+not quite even.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, father, I'll take out that long tooth in a minute,' said Patty,
+laughing. 'I did not think that you would observe it so soon.'</p>
+
+<p>'I would not have you trust to my blindness,' said her father, stroking
+her head fondly; 'I observe everything. I observe, for instance, that
+you are a grateful little girl, and that you are glad to be of use to
+those who have been kind to you, and for this I forgive you the long
+stitch.'</p>
+
+<p>'But it's out&mdash;it's out, father,' said Patty; 'and the next time your
+gloves want mending, Ben, I'll mend them better.'</p>
+
+<p>'They are very nice, I think,' said Ben, drawing them on, 'and I am much
+obliged to you. I was just wishing I had a pair of gloves to keep my
+fingers warm to-day, for I never can shoot well when my hands are
+benumbed. Look, Hal; you know how ragged these gloves were.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> You said
+they were good for nothing but to throw away. Now look, there's not a
+hole in them,' said he, spreading his fingers.</p>
+
+<p>'Now, is it not very extraordinary,' said Hal to himself, 'that they
+should go on so long talking about an old pair of gloves, without saying
+scarcely a word about my new uniform? Well, the young Sweepstakes and
+Lady Diana will talk enough about it, that's one comfort. Is not it time
+to think of setting out, sir?' said Hal to his uncle. 'The company, you
+know, are to meet at the Ostrich at twelve, and the race to begin at
+one, and Lady Diana's horses, I know, were ordered to be at the door at
+ten.'</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Stephen, the butler, here interrupted the hurrying young gentleman
+in his calculations.</p>
+
+<p>'There's a poor lad, sir, below, with a great black patch on his right
+eye, who is come from Bristol, and wants to speak a word with the young
+<i>gentlemen</i>, if you please. I told him they were just going out with
+you, but he says he won't detain them more than half a minute.'</p>
+
+<p>'Show him up&mdash;show him up,' said Mr. Gresham.</p>
+
+<p>'But I suppose,' said Hal, with a sigh, 'that Stephen mistook when he
+said the young <i>gentlemen</i>. He only wants to see Ben, I dare say. I'm
+sure he has no reason to want to see me. Here he comes. Oh, Ben, he is
+dressed in the new coat you gave him,' whispered Hal, who was really a
+good-natured boy, though extravagant. 'How much better he looks than he
+did in the ragged coat! Ah, he looked at you first, Ben, and well he
+may!'</p>
+
+<p>The boy bowed, without any cringing civility, but with an open, decent
+freedom in his manner, which expressed that he had been obliged, but
+that he knew his young<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> benefactor was not thinking of the obligation.
+He made as little distinction as possible between his bows to the two
+cousins.</p>
+
+<p>'As I was sent with a message by the clerk of our parish to Redland
+Chapel out on the Downs to-day, sir,' said he to Mr. Gresham, 'knowing
+your house lay in my way, my mother, sir, bid me call, and make bold to
+offer the young gentlemen two little worsted balls that she has worked
+for them,' continued the lad, pulling out of his pocket two worsted
+balls worked in green and orange-coloured stripes. 'They are but poor
+things, sir, she bid me say, to look at; but, considering she has but
+one hand to work with, and <i>that</i> her left hand, you'll not despise 'em,
+we hopes.' He held the balls to Ben and Hal. 'They are both alike,
+gentlemen,' said he. 'If you'll be pleased to take 'em. They're better
+than they look, for they bound higher than your head. I cut the cork
+round for the inside myself, which was all I could do.'</p>
+
+<p>'They are nice balls, indeed. We are much obliged to you,' said the boys
+as they received them, and they proved them immediately.</p>
+
+<p>The balls struck the floor with a delightful sound, and rebounded higher
+than Mr. Gresham's head. Little Patty clapped her hands joyfully. But
+now a thundering double rap at the door was heard.</p>
+
+<p>'The Master Sweepstakes, sir,' said Stephen, 'are come for Master Hal.
+They say that all the young gentlemen who have archery uniforms are to
+walk together in a body, I think they say, sir; and they are to parade
+along the Well Walk, they desired me to say, sir, with a drum and fife,
+and so up the hill by Prince's Place, and all to go upon the Downs
+together to the place of meeting. I am not sure I'm right, sir, for both
+the young gentlemen spoke at once, and the wind is very high at the
+street<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> door, so that I could not well make out all they said, but I
+believe this is the sense of it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, yes,' said Hal eagerly, 'it's all right. I know that is just what
+was settled the day I dined at Lady Diana's, and Lady Diana and a great
+party of gentlemen are to ride&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, that is nothing to the purpose,' interrupted Mr. Gresham. 'Don't
+keep these Master Sweepstakes waiting. Decide. Do you choose to go with
+them or with us?'</p>
+
+<p>'Sir&mdash;uncle&mdash;sir, you know, since all the <i>uniforms</i> agreed to go
+together&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Off with you, then, Mr. Uniform, if you mean to go,' said Mr. Gresham.</p>
+
+<p>Hal ran downstairs in such a hurry that he forgot his bow and arrows.
+Ben discovered this when he went to fetch his own, and the lad from
+Bristol, who had been ordered by Mr. Gresham to eat his breakfast before
+he proceeded to Redland Chapel, heard Ben talking about his cousin's bow
+and arrows.</p>
+
+<p>'I know,' said Ben, 'he will be sorry not to have his bow with him,
+because here are the green knots tied to it to match his cockade; and he
+said that the boys were all to carry their bows as part of the show.'</p>
+
+<p>'If you'll give me leave, sir,' said the poor Bristol lad, 'I shall have
+plenty of time, and I'll run down to the Well Walk after the young
+gentleman, and take him his bow and arrows.'</p>
+
+<p>'Will you? I shall be much obliged to you,' said Ben; and away went the
+boy with the bow that was ornamented with green ribands.</p>
+
+<p>The public walk leading to the Wells was full of company. The windows of
+all the houses in St. Vincent's Parade were crowded with well-dressed
+ladies, who were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> looking out in expectation of the archery procession.
+Parties of gentlemen and ladies, and a motley crowd of spectators, were
+seen moving backwards and forwards under the rocks on the opposite side
+of the water. A barge, with coloured streamers flying, was waiting to
+take up a party who were going upon the water. The bargemen rested upon
+their oars, and gazed with broad faces of curiosity upon the busy scene
+that appeared upon the public walk.</p>
+
+<p>The archers and archeresses were now drawn up on the flags under the
+semicircular piazza just before Mrs. Yearsley's library. A little band
+of children, who had been mustered by Lady Diana Sweepstakes' <i>spirited
+exertions</i>, closed the procession. They were now all in readiness. The
+drummer only waited for her ladyship's signal, and the archers' corps
+only waited for her ladyship's word of command to march.</p>
+
+<p>'Where are your bow and arrows, my little man?' said her ladyship to
+Hal, as she reviewed her Lilliputian regiment. 'You can't march, man,
+without your arms.'</p>
+
+<p>Hal had despatched a messenger for his forgotten bow, but the messenger
+returned not. He looked from side to side in great distress.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, there's my bow coming, I declare!' cried he. 'Look, I see the bow
+and the ribands. Look now, between the trees, Charles Sweepstakes, on
+the Hotwell Walk&mdash;it is coming!'</p>
+
+<p>'But you've kept us all waiting a confounded time!' said his impatient
+friend.</p>
+
+<p>'It is that good-natured poor fellow from Bristol, I protest, that has
+brought it me. I'm sure I don't deserve it from him,' said Hal to
+himself, when he saw the lad with the black patch on his eye running,
+quite out of breath, towards him with his bow and arrows.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Fall back, my good friend&mdash;fall back,' said the military lady, as soon
+as he had delivered the bow to Hal; 'I mean, stand out of the way, for
+your great patch cuts no figure amongst us. Don't follow so close, now,
+as if you belonged to us, pray.'</p>
+
+<p>The poor boy had no ambition to partake the triumph; he <i>fell back</i> as
+soon as he understand the meaning of the lady's words. The drum beat,
+the fife played, the archers marched, the spectators admired. Hal
+stepped proudly, and felt as if the eyes of the whole universe were upon
+his epaulettes, or upon the facings of his uniform; whilst all the time
+he was considered only as part of a show.</p>
+
+<p>The walk appeared much shorter than usual, and he was extremely sorry
+that Lady Diana, when they were half-way up the hill leading to Prince's
+Place, mounted her horse because the road was dirty, and all the
+gentlemen and ladies who accompanied her followed her example.</p>
+
+<p>'We can leave the children to walk, you know,' said she to the gentleman
+who helped her to mount her horse. 'I must call to some of them, though,
+and leave orders where they are to <i>join</i>.'</p>
+
+<p>She beckoned, and Hal, who was foremost, and proud to show his alacrity,
+ran on to receive her ladyship's orders. Now, as we have before
+observed, it was a sharp and windy day; and though Lady Diana
+Sweepstakes was actually speaking to him, and looking at him, he could
+not prevent his nose from wanting to be blowed. He pulled out his
+handkerchief, and out rolled the new ball which had been given to him
+just before he left home, and which, according to his usual careless
+habits, he had stuffed into his pocket in his hurry.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, my new ball!' cried he, as he ran after it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>As he stopped to pick it up, he let go his hat, which he had hitherto
+held on with anxious care; for the hat, though it had a fine green and
+white cockade, had no band or string round it. The string, as we may
+recollect, our wasteful hero had used in spinning his top. The hat was
+too large for his head without this band; a sudden gust of wind blew it
+off. Lady Diana's horse started and reared. She was a <i>famous</i>
+horsewoman, and sat him to the admiration of all beholders; but there
+was a puddle of red clay and water in this spot, and her ladyship's
+uniform habit was a sufferer by the accident.</p>
+
+<p>'Careless brat!' said she; 'why can't he keep his hat upon his head?'</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, the wind blew the hat down the hill, and Hal ran after
+it amidst the laughter of his kind friends, the young Sweepstakes, and
+the rest of the little regiment. The hat was lodged at length upon a
+bank. Hal pursued it; he thought this bank was hard, but, alas! the
+moment he set his foot upon it the foot sank. He tried to draw it back;
+his other foot slipped, and he fell prostrate, in his green and white
+uniform, into the treacherous bed of red mud. His companions, who had
+halted upon the top of the hill, stood laughing spectators of his
+misfortune.</p>
+
+<p>It happened that the poor boy with the black patch upon his eye, who had
+been ordered by Lady Diana to '<i>fall back</i>,' and to '<i>keep at a
+distance</i>,' was now coming up the hill, and the moment he saw our fallen
+hero he hastened to his assistance. He dragged poor Hal, who was a
+deplorable spectacle, out of the red mud. The obliging mistress of a
+lodging-house, as soon as she understood that the young gentleman was
+nephew to Mr. Gresham, to whom she had formerly let her house, received
+Hal, covered as he was with dirt.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The poor Bristol lad hastened to Mr. Gresham's for clean stockings and
+shoes for Hal. He was willing to give up his uniform. It was rubbed and
+rubbed, and a spot here and there was washed out; and he kept
+continually repeating: 'When it's dry it will all brush off; when it's
+dry it will all brush off, won't it?' But soon the fear of being too
+late at the archery meeting began to balance the dread of appearing in
+his stained habiliments; and now he as anxiously repeated, whilst the
+woman held the wet coat to the fire: 'Oh, I shall be too late! indeed, I
+shall be too late! Make haste; it will never dry! Hold it nearer&mdash;nearer
+to the fire. I shall lose my turn to shoot. Oh, give me the coat! I
+don't mind how it is, if I can but get it on.'</p>
+
+<p>Holding it nearer and nearer to the fire dried it quickly, to be sure;
+but it shrank it also, so that it was no easy matter to get the coat on
+again. However, Hal, who did not see the red splashes which, in spite of
+all these operations, were too visible upon his shoulders and upon the
+skirts of his white coat behind, was pretty well satisfied to observe
+that there was not one spot upon the facings.</p>
+
+<p>'Nobody,' said he, 'will take notice of my coat behind, I dare say. I
+think it looks as smart almost as ever!' and under this persuasion our
+young archer resumed his bow&mdash;his bow with green ribands now no
+more&mdash;and he pursued his way to the Downs.</p>
+
+<p>All his companions were far out of sight.</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose,' said he to his friend with the black patch&mdash;'I suppose my
+uncle and Ben had left home before you went for the shoes and stockings
+for me?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, yes, sir; the butler said they had been gone to the Downs the
+matter of a good half-hour or more.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Hal trudged on as fast as he possibly could. When he got upon the Downs,
+he saw numbers of carriages and crowds of people all going towards the
+place of meeting at the Ostrich. He pressed forwards. He was at first so
+much afraid of being late that he did not take notice of the mirth his
+motley appearance excited in all beholders. At length he reached the
+appointed spot. There was a great crowd of people. In the midst he heard
+Lady Diana's loud voice betting upon some one who was just going to
+shoot at the mark.</p>
+
+<p>'So then the shooting is begun, is it?' said Hal. 'Oh, let me in! pray
+let me in to the circle! I'm one of the archers&mdash;I am indeed; don't you
+see my green and white uniform?'</p>
+
+<p>'Your red and white uniform, you mean,' said the man to whom he
+addressed himself; and the people, as they opened a passage for him,
+could not refrain laughing at the mixture of dirt and finery which it
+exhibited. In vain, when he got into the midst of the formidable circle,
+he looked to his friends, the young Sweepstakes, for their countenance
+and support. They were amongst the most unmerciful of the laughers. Lady
+Diana also seemed more to enjoy than to pity his confusion.</p>
+
+<p>'Why could you not keep your hat upon your head, man?' said she in her
+masculine tone. 'You have been almost the ruin of my poor uniform habit;
+but I've escaped rather better than you have. Don't stand there, in the
+middle of the circle, or you'll have an arrow in your eyes just now,
+I've a notion.'</p>
+
+<p>Hal looked round in search of better friends.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, where's my uncle? Where's Ben?' said he.</p>
+
+<p>He was in such confusion that, amongst the number of faces, he could
+scarcely distinguish one from another; but he felt somebody at this
+moment pull his elbow, and,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> to his great relief, he heard the friendly
+voice and saw the good-natured face of his cousin Ben.</p>
+
+<p>'Come back&mdash;come behind these people,' said Ben, 'and put on my
+greatcoat; here it is for you.'</p>
+
+<p>Right glad was Hal to cover his disgraced uniform with the rough
+greatcoat which he had formerly despised. He pulled the stained,
+drooping cockade out of his unfortunate hat; and he was now sufficiently
+recovered from his vexation to give an intelligible account of his
+accident to his uncle and Patty, who anxiously inquired what had
+detained him so long, and what had been the matter. In the midst of the
+history of his disaster, he was just proving to Patty that his taking
+the hatband to spin his top had nothing to do with his misfortune, and
+he was at the same time endeavouring to refute his uncle's opinion that
+the waste of the whipcord that tied the parcel was the original cause of
+all his evils, when he was summoned to try his skill with his <i>famous</i>
+bow.</p>
+
+<p>'My hands are benumbed; I can scarcely feel,' said he, rubbing them and
+blowing upon the ends of his fingers.</p>
+
+<p>'Come, come,' cried young Sweepstakes, 'I'm within one inch of the mark;
+who'll go nearer? I shall like to see. Shoot away, Hal! But first
+understand our laws; we settled them before you came upon the green. You
+are to have three shots with your own bow and your own arrows; and
+nobody's to borrow or lend under pretence of other's bows being better
+or worse, or under under any pretence. Do you hear, Hal?'</p>
+
+<p>This young gentleman had good reasons for being so strict in these laws,
+as he had observed that none of his companions had such an excellent bow
+as he had provided for himself. Some of the boys had forgotten to bring
+more than one arrow with them, and by his cunning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> regulation that each
+person should shoot with his own arrows, many had lost one or two of
+their shots.</p>
+
+<p>'You are a lucky fellow; you have your three arrows,' said young
+Sweepstakes. 'Come, we can't wait whilst you rub your fingers, man;
+shoot away.'</p>
+
+<p>Hal was rather surprised at the asperity with which his friend spoke. He
+little knew how easily acquaintance who call themselves friends can
+change when their interest comes in the slightest degree in competition
+with their friendship. Hurried by his impatient rival, and with his
+hands so much benumbed that he could scarcely feel how to fix the arrow
+in the string, he drew the bow. The arrow was within a quarter of an
+inch of Master Sweepstakes' mark, which was the nearest that had yet
+been hit. Hal seized his second arrow.</p>
+
+<p>'If I have any luck&mdash;&mdash;' said he.</p>
+
+<p>But just as he pronounced the word <i>luck</i>, and as he bent his bow, the
+string broke in two, and the bow fell from his hands.</p>
+
+<p>'There, it's all over with you!' cried Master Sweepstakes, with a
+triumphant laugh.</p>
+
+<p>'Here's my bow for him, and welcome,' said Ben.</p>
+
+<p>'No, no, sir,' said Master Sweepstakes, 'that is not fair; that's
+against the regulations. You may shoot with your own bow, if you choose
+it, or you may not, just as you think proper; but you must not lend it,
+sir.'</p>
+
+<p>It was now Ben's turn to make his trial. His first arrow was not
+successful. His second was exactly as near as Hal's first.</p>
+
+<p>'You have but one more,' said Master Sweepstakes; 'now for it!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 413px;">
+<img src="images/i242.jpg" width="413" height="600" alt="&#39;The everlasting whipcord, I declare.&#39;&mdash;Page 241." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>&#39;The everlasting whipcord, I declare.&#39;&mdash;Page 241.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Ben, before he ventured his last arrow, prudently examined the string of
+his bow; and, as he pulled it to try its strength, it cracked. Master
+Sweepstakes clapped his hands, with loud exultations and insulting
+laughter. But his laughter ceased when our provident hero calmly drew
+from his pocket an excellent piece of whipcord.</p>
+
+<p>'The everlasting whipcord, I declare!' exclaimed Hal, when he saw that
+it was the very same that had tied up the parcel.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' said Ben, as he fastened it to his bow, 'I put it into my pocket
+to-day on purpose, because I thought I might happen to want it.'</p>
+
+<p>He drew his bow the third and last time.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, father,' cried little Patty, as his arrow hit the mark, 'it's the
+nearest! Is it not the nearest?'</p>
+
+<p>Master Sweepstakes with anxiety examined the hit. There could be no
+doubt. Ben was victorious! The bow, the prize bow, was now delivered to
+him; and Hal, as he looked at the whipcord, exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>'How <i>lucky</i> this whipcord has been to you, Ben!'</p>
+
+<p>'It is <i>lucky</i>, perhaps, you mean, that he took care of it,' said Mr.
+Gresham.</p>
+
+<p>'Ay,' said Hal, 'very true; he might well say, "Waste not, want not." It
+is a good thing to have two strings to one's bow.'</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> <i>Vide</i> Priestley's 'History of Vision,' chapter on coloured
+shadows.</p></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span></p>
+<h2>The Bunch of Cherries</h2>
+
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i244dc.jpg" width="154" height="150" alt="O" class="cap" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="cap_2">On the first day of May, Madame de Clinville, the widow of a Notary of
+Paris, conducted her daughter, fourteen years of age, to the delightful
+garden of the Tuileries, there to breathe the pure air of spring and the
+sweet perfumes from its flowers. In passing through the walks leading to
+the royal palace, the young lady's attention was attracted by one of the
+shops, supplied with the choicest and most rare fruits; among which was
+a bunch of cherries, arranged with so much taste, and so prettily
+intermixed with fresh green leaves, that she could not forbear
+expressing to her mother her anxious desire to have those cherries,
+notwithstanding she could foresee at that season they must be
+extravagantly dear. Madame de Clinville, who never denied her daughter
+anything, and who was in general very plain and moderate in her
+inclinations, purchased the bunch of cherries, although dear, and
+proceeded with her dear Emmelina&mdash;her daughter's name&mdash;to the Tuileries.</p>
+
+<p>Having surveyed the beautiful walks of this truly enchanted place, they
+seated themselves on chairs under<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> the shade of a large chestnut tree.
+It was scarcely ten o'clock in the morning, the hour most agreeable for
+walking, and frequently the most retired, as the fashionables of Paris
+seldom make their appearance before three or four o'clock, and in a
+<i>d&eacute;shabille</i> that bespeaks them just arisen from their beds, as if to
+behold the sun for the first time. As such, Madame de Clinville and her
+daughter met with very little company.</p>
+
+<p>The only object that struck their attention was a lady with the remains
+of beauty, whose external appearance indicated a person of quality,
+accompanied by a young lady, nearly Emmelina's age, dressed in white and
+a small green hat ornamented with a wreath of white pearls, which shaded
+the most amiable countenance. They both came and seated themselves near
+Madame and Miss de Clinville, when the young stranger could not keep her
+eyes from the bunch of cherries, and remarked to the lady who was with
+her: 'How fresh and beautiful they are!' Anxiety was depicted in her
+eyes and in every action, and at length, slowly advancing towards
+Emmelina, with the most affable condescension, she said: 'What a
+delicious nosegay you have there, miss! The freshness of it can only be
+compared with your complexion.'</p>
+
+<p>'It would be a better comparison with your own,' answered Madame de
+Clinville; 'for, with your pretty green hat, one might justly say:
+"Behold the cherry under the leaf."'</p>
+
+<p>'It is surprising to me,' added the young stranger, 'that miss does not
+eat these fine cherries, no less gratifying to the taste than sight.'</p>
+
+<p>'They are my mother's gift,' modestly answered Emmelina, 'and, being so
+rare, I really cannot enjoy them alone. If you, miss, will condescend to
+divide<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> them with me!&mdash;<i>the happiness of sharing with others that which
+we possess enhances the value of its enjoyment</i>.'</p>
+
+<p>'These last words, which Emmelina pronounced in the most expressive
+manner, made a lively impression on the young lady.</p>
+
+<p>'How can you withstand a favour said with feelings and sentiments so
+interesting?' demanded the handsome lady who escorted her; at whose
+advice, attended with a sign of approbation, the young stranger accepted
+the first cherry from the delightful bunch.</p>
+
+<p>Emmelina presented the second to her mother, and the stranger offered
+the third to her charming companion; and the two young folks ate of them
+by turns till there remained only the leaves. They entered into
+conversation, when Madame de Clinville endeavoured by several judicious
+and direct questions to ascertain the name of the pretty green hat; but,
+perceiving the lady make a sign of caution to the unknown, she ceased
+further interrogatories, and they mutually adhered to the customary
+civilities, and separated with assurances of the pleasure so agreeable
+an interview had excited.</p>
+
+<p>On returning home, Madame de Clinville and her daughter observed that a
+servant in red livery had followed them, who appeared to examine very
+minutely the number of the house in which they lived, and from that
+circumstance concluded the strange lady wished to learn their place of
+residence, notwithstanding she had taken every precaution to conceal her
+own, or the most distant knowledge of the young person in the green hat.</p>
+
+<p>Several months having elapsed, Madame de Clinville thought no longer of
+the Tuileries adventure, when one morning, while at breakfast with
+Emmelina and Gustavus, her only son&mdash;a pupil at the Imperial Academy,
+seventeen years of age&mdash;the porter of the lodge entered the apartment,
+holding in one hand a ripe pineapple, and in the other a note, directed
+to Mademoiselle de Clinville, the contents as follows:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 409px;">
+<img src="images/i247.jpg" width="409" height="600" alt="The happiness of sharing with others that which we
+possess enhances the value of its enjoyment.&mdash;Page 244." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>The happiness of sharing with others that which we
+possess enhances the value of its enjoyment.&mdash;Page 244</i>.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'Having been presented with two pineapples, permit me to offer
+you one of them, and to recall to mind your own impressive
+sentiment&mdash;<i>The happiness of sharing with others that which we
+possess enhances the value of its enjoyment.</i></p>
+
+<p class="right">'<span class="smcap">The Little Green Hat</span>.'</p></div>
+
+<p>In vain did Madame de Clinville and her children question the porter to
+know who brought this note. He answered:</p>
+
+<p>'It was a messenger, who, upon leaving the parcel, went away without
+saying a word.'</p>
+
+<p>Emmelina at once decided upon sharing the pineapple with her mother and
+brother, which they regarded but as a return for the bunch of cherries;
+but were still the more perplexed from a desire to know the two
+strangers. In a short time the porter again entered Madame de
+Clinville's house with a rich china vase, in which was an orange tree of
+an uncommon size in full bloom, with a second letter, which was, as
+usual, directed to Emmelina, and contained these words:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'I received yesterday for my birthday f&ecirc;te, <i>Ste Clotilde</i>, two
+orange trees like the one sent you; condescend to accept of
+one. <i>The happiness of sharing with others that which we
+possess enhances the value of its enjoyment.</i>'</p></div>
+
+<p>The porter informed them it was conveyed by the same person, to whom he
+had put several useless questions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'What!' said Emmelina, 'am I never to know who this charming Clotilde
+is, with the green hat?'</p>
+
+<p>'Let me try,' said Gustavus; 'I will undertake to find her out. Describe
+her as exactly as you can.'</p>
+
+<p>'She is about my size,' answered his sister, 'but a much better figure
+than I am. Her grace displays a prepossessing <i>je ne sais quoi</i>; her
+regular and noble features are enlivened by an air of sweetness and
+gaiety that attracts and at the same time interests you; fine auburn
+hair flows in ringlets on her lovely neck; and the whiteness of her skin
+adds still greater beauty to her fine large blue eyes, the vivacity and
+expression of which seem to penetrate to the bottom of your heart, and
+to guess every thought.'</p>
+
+<p>'From this picture,' said Gustavus, 'I foresee that, if I discover the
+unknown belle, I shall be repaid for my trouble on beholding her. Rely
+upon my wish to serve thee, no less than the person in whom I already
+sensibly feel so many charms are blended to admire.'</p>
+
+<p>Gustavus exerted every effort to meet with the beauty in the green hat,
+the description of whom was engraven on his heart no less than on his
+memory. He sought her at all the public walks, theatres, balls,
+concerts, and, in short, every private society in Paris, yet could not
+possibly discover the slightest or most distant trace of her.</p>
+
+<p>A month had elapsed when Emmelina, on her return from taking a walk,
+found upon her work-table a white silk basket, ornamented with
+embroidery, which, she was informed by her waiting-maid, was brought by
+a careful person. Not doubting it came from the amiable Clotilde, she
+opened the basket in her mother's presence, and found it contained every
+species of sweetmeat accompanied by a polite note, wherein the stranger<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span>
+mentioned having been a god-mother, and, loaded with presents, she had
+adopted Emmelina's maxim, which never was obliterated from her
+remembrance, and which she had actually worked in golden letters in
+front of the basket, with a bunch of cherries, ornamented with leaves,
+in embroidery&mdash;viz.: '<i>The happiness of sharing with others that which
+we possess enhances the value of its enjoyment.</i>'</p>
+
+<p>This tasty specimen of ingenuity created the most pleasing and grateful
+sensations in the breasts of the Clinville family, who, though
+distressed beyond measure at receiving so many anonymous gifts, by the
+manner in which they were offered were obliged to accept them. Emmelina
+and Gustavus therefore hesitated not to partake of the various and
+delicious confectionery with which the basket seemed entirely filled,
+but great was their surprise to discover underneath the sweetmeats
+half-a-dozen elegant fans, six dozen pairs of gloves, and, lastly, a
+beautiful white cashmere shawl with a broad border highly and elegantly
+finished.</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot,' said Emmelina, 'think of wearing these rich articles without
+knowing from whom they come; simple cherries, offered with a truly
+hearty welcome, do not merit such considerable presents.'</p>
+
+<p>'I commend thy discretion,' said Madame de Clinville to her; 'every
+instance denotes the rank and fortune of these charming strangers, and
+denies us the power to make them amends, as an exchange of presents can
+only be made with our equals; we must, therefore, take care of the
+handsome shawl till we can discover the person who has sent it.' Also
+the gloves and fans were carefully preserved in the elegant basket, and
+they contented themselves with doing justice to the delicacies.</p>
+
+<p>Gustavus, although one of the first pupils at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> Imperial Academy,
+frequently shared them with his sister, and daily repeated, while eating
+them: 'Oh, generous and charming green hat, I will find thee. Who would
+not, even the most callous, aspire to the honour and happiness of
+knowing thee? Yes, yes, I will discover thee....'</p>
+
+<p>But, alas, his renewed researches were as unsuccessful as the former. In
+vain did he pursue every green hat he perceived at a distance in Paris,
+but could not find that similarity of grace, youth, beauty, and
+expression of which his sister had drawn so faithful and prepossessing a
+picture.</p>
+
+<p>Emmelina, being no less desirous than her brother to gain a knowledge of
+the person with whom she had divided her cherries, prepared a note for
+the porter to deliver, at the same time giving him strict orders to send
+it by the next person that came, which note was directed <i>To the
+charming Green Hat</i> ... as follows:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'If the sensibility of your heart correspond with the charms of
+your countenance, you must approve of the resolution I have
+taken not to make use of all the presents with which you have
+favoured me. I therefore assure you they are placed under my
+mother's care, who suffers no less than myself from the cruel
+secrecy in which you persist.</p>
+<p class="right">'<span class="smcap">Emmelina de Clinville.</span>'</p></div>
+
+<p>The porter, faithful to the execution of his orders, was not long the
+holder of the note. Two days after the same messenger presented himself
+at the lodge, and was preparing to go away as usual, after having left
+the parcel, when the porter, formerly a soldier, and still full of
+vigour, seized him by the collar, and called loudly for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> Gustavus, who,
+followed by his mother and sister, quickly descended to know from whence
+he came, but neither entreaties, threats, nor the promise of reward
+could prevail with this good man, who merely said the parcel was
+delivered to him by an old servant in red livery, who had given him a
+crown for his trouble, and being well recompensed he would not betray
+the trust reposed in him.</p>
+
+<p>'Since you are so discreet,' said Emmelina, 'I am sure you must be
+obliging. Do me the favour to deliver this note to the same servant from
+whom you received the parcel; that will not bring your discretion, for
+which I commend you, into question, and I shall be obliged by your
+compliance.'</p>
+
+<p>'If you only require me to give the note,' answered the porter, 'I will
+do it willingly, and you may rely on my punctuality. You need not follow
+me, for you will lose both your time and trouble....' At these words he
+speedily departed with Emmelina's note.</p>
+
+<p>Anxious to know the contents of the newly-arrived parcel, which appeared
+much heavier than any hitherto, Gustavus was himself eager to open the
+envelope, and found a handsome uniform for an artillery officer, with an
+elegant sabre, to which was attached a green morocco portfolio that
+contained this writing:</p>
+
+<p>'My relation, the Minister at War, according to annual custom, on my
+birthday presents me with an officer's commission, for those of my
+family or friends who merit it. I beg you to accept it for your brother
+as a due reward for his success at the Imperial Academy. If, as I doubt
+not, he should signalize himself in his military career, and become a
+hero, all I request of him is to follow your maxim: <i>The happiness of
+sharing with others that which we possess enhances the value of its
+enjoyment.</i>'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>To the above was added a lieutenant's commission of artillery, with
+orders to join the appointed regiment in eight days. Gustavus conceived
+it a dream, for that which he so ardently desired and least expected to
+be provided by the generosity of a beautiful young stranger, whose
+delicacy redoubled the value of the gift. 'And,' said he, 'shall I take
+my departure without knowing, seeing, or thanking her?'</p>
+
+<p>'There is a mode,' exclaimed Madame de Clinville, with her eyes beaming
+with recollection and delight. 'We must introduce ourselves this day to
+the Minister at War, and request an interview; we may then learn from
+him to whom we are indebted for this happy event....'</p>
+
+<p>'You are right,' replied Gustavus; 'let us go to him directly.' He
+dressed himself in the regimentals, which to his great surprise exactly
+fitted him. Emmelina and her mother dressed themselves elegantly, and in
+an hour's time all three arrived at the Minister's house, who received
+them with most polite affability, and, conceiving they were acquainted
+with their young benefactress, said: 'In acceding to the anxious
+solicitations of Miss de St. Leon I am only doing justice to her
+deserving prot&eacute;g&eacute; as I can trace in M. de Clinville's countenance a
+goodness that will render him worthy all the interest I can devote to
+him, and which I promise you he shall ever experience.'</p>
+
+<p>'Miss de St. Leon! Miss de St. Leon!' repeated Gustavus.</p>
+
+<p>'Most likely,' added Madame de Clinville, 'she is the daughter of the
+general who, by his great exploits, has attained one of the highest
+posts under Government, and is one of the Emperor's greatest favourites.
+We must learn where he lives, and go to him directly.'</p>
+
+<p>'Let us,' said Emmelina, 'enter the first library and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> examine the Court
+calendar, and we shall find this so much desired address.' Upon which
+they discovered the general resided at the village St. Honor&eacute;, near the
+Elys&eacute;e, and thither speedily repaired.</p>
+
+<p>Emmelina desired the porter to announce that M. de Clinville, an
+artillery officer, and his family requested a moment's interview with
+Miss de St. Leon. The porter shortly returned with a footman, who had
+orders to introduce the ladies and the newly-appointed officer to the
+great hall where Miss de St. Leon delayed not to attend them.</p>
+
+<p>She was in the same dress and green hat, ornamented with white pearls,
+which she wore on meeting her in the Tuileries, accompanied by the same
+lady, whom she called her aunt. She advanced precipitately to Emmelina,
+and, embracing her, said: 'Forgive me for having deceived you with
+secrecy, and wounded your delicacy.' She then added, with sensible
+emotion: 'I wished gradually to give you a proof of those sentiments you
+inspired me with on our first meeting, and convinced, by the inquiries I
+made, that your greatest ambition was to obtain a commission for your
+brother, and from the high character given of him by the head masters of
+the academy my aunt and I have (in the absence of my father with the
+army), without difficulty obtained him that which will add to the
+country's service another brave soldier, and to your worthy family the
+completion of your wishes, and, lastly, to myself the happiness of
+proving to you the high value I set on your delicious bunch of cherries
+which you obliged me to partake of, and how strong an impression the
+sentiment which accompanied them has made upon my remembrance.' To which
+at first Emmelina made no reply, but affectionately embraced and saluted
+her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Madame de Clinville could not forbear requesting permission for the same
+indulgence.</p>
+
+<p>Gustavus, with all the vivacity of a young French officer, and eager to
+realize the good opinion formed of him, exclaimed with an heroic accent:
+'How long the time seems ere I shall take my station under the Imperial
+Eagles. If I do not in a year merit the cross of honour His Majesty
+shall be welcome to erase me from the list of the brave....' As soon as
+he found his amiable benefactress had carried her goodness so far as to
+find out his tailor, to whom she gave the order for his first
+regimentals, his surprise ceased that they fitted so well.</p>
+
+<p>'To complete this day of joy,' said Miss de St. Leon's aunt, 'I hope
+these ladies and the young lieutenant will dine with us, so that we may
+enjoy as long as possible the felicities they have been the means of
+promoting.'</p>
+
+<p>Madame de Clinville readily accepted the invitation, but requested leave
+to return home, when herself and children departed, and at the
+dinner-hour made their appearance dressed in the clothes they wore at
+the Tuileries meeting, but in addition to Emmelina's simple dress was
+displayed the rich cashmere shawl, one of the fans, and a pair of gloves
+received from the green hat, who sensibly felt this mark of attention.</p>
+
+<p>They seated themselves at table, when Miss de St. Leon discovered, on
+unfolding her napkin, a small case containing a ring set with three
+brilliants. Underneath the mounting was engraved: <i>A token of lasting
+gratitude....</i></p>
+
+<p>She immediately put the ring on her finger, and declared she never would
+part from it. In Emmelina she found a constant and sincere friend, in
+Gustavus an officer of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> exalted rank by his important services to his
+country. Miss de St. Leon and Emmelina, in their frequent interviews and
+the participations of their sweetest endearments, repeated together:
+'<i>The happiness of sharing with others that which we possess enhances
+the value of its enjoyment.</i>'</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p>
+<h2>The Fugitive</h2>
+
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i257dc.jpg" width="149" height="150" alt="O" class="cap" />
+
+
+<p class="cap_2">On the evening of the day which succeeded that of the visit to the Fairy
+Island the baronet and his family were seated in the drawing-room, and
+Lady Clairmont was arranging with her husband their plans for the
+reception of their uncle, Mr. Geoffrey Clairmont, from whom a letter had
+been just received intimating his intention of being with them the next
+day to a late dinner, but requesting they would not make any material
+addition to their table, as a white soup, a turbot, a little venison,
+and a pheasant would be all he should require, or if his fancy stood for
+any <i>bonnes bouches</i>, his factotum, Monsieur Melange (his valet, cook,
+and occasional secretary) would bring materials for preparing them.</p></div>
+
+<p>The party were amusing themselves with admiring the modest simplicity of
+the old gentleman's bill of fare when Denton, the house-steward, ran in,
+and, staring wildly around, exclaimed: 'Thank goodness everybody is
+here!' then, darting forward to an open door which looked upon the lawn,
+he shut and locked it, and slammed down the sashes with the greatest
+precipitation, then,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> turning to Sir William, said: 'Pray, sir, please
+to come out of the room with me this moment.'</p>
+
+<p>The baronet followed him outside the door, while the careful servant,
+still holding it ajar, added: 'Pray, ladies and gentlemen, don't stir
+out of this room, pray don't.' He then shut and locked the door.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, what ails you, Denton; what is all this about?' said the baronet.
+'One would think you had been bit by a mad dog.'</p>
+
+<p>'Not exactly that, Sir William,' replied the man, quivering in every
+limb, 'but I fear we may all be bit, before an hour is over our heads,
+by something quite as bad.'</p>
+
+<p>He then informed his master that the keeper of a caravan of wild beasts
+had just come to the castle, and stated that in going through the
+nearest market-town his vehicle had been upset, and the damage which
+ensued had given an opportunity for one of his most valuable animals, a
+Bengal tiger, to make its escape, that he and two of the keepers had
+tracked it as far as the Warren on the Clairmont estate, and he had come
+to beg assistance from the castle, while the other two stood armed on
+each side a gap in the Warren where they thought it was hid, and from
+whence, should it attempt to issue, they hoped, by help from Sir
+William, to intercept its free egress.</p>
+
+<p>'They want ropes and blankets and coverlets from the servants' beds,'
+added Denton, 'to spread over the gap, which things they mean to fasten
+down on each side, and then lure the beast to the entrance by the scent
+of his usual food, when he will try to force himself through the
+coverings; then they can lay hold of his smothered head without fear,
+and easily slipping a noose round his neck convey him in this manner
+back to his old quarters.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'By all means let them have what is necessary,' said the baronet, 'and
+tell the grooms to keep the stable-door locked, and get in the horses.
+It is not likely that the creature will come near the house till he is
+starved into a visitation, but let the gamekeeper and his men be ready,
+and muster what arms you have.'</p>
+
+<p>'To be sure, Sir William, it shall be done,' said the frightened
+steward, as he walked cautiously across the hall, looking on every side
+as he advanced.</p>
+
+<p>'Well,' said the baronet laughing, as he returned to the drawing-room,
+'two such <i>gourmands</i> in one four-and-twenty hours is one too many sure
+enough. Here's a tiger come amongst us to-day by way of <i>avant-courier</i>
+to Uncle Geoffrey.'</p>
+
+<p>'A tiger!' cried both the boys. 'Oh, where, father? But you are joking?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; 'tis a plain fact, according to Denton,' said Sir William, whose
+information he then gave, and added: 'Though I have no apprehension of
+the animal coming here I must beg you all to move upstairs, and keep in
+the house till it is secured.'</p>
+
+<p>'Secured; how can that be? it must be shot,' said William, adding: 'Pray
+don't let Fred and me go upstairs with the misses, father. We can load a
+gun, and take aim now as well as we shall do at five-and-twenty.'</p>
+
+<p>'Pray let us go, father,' said Frederick; 'it would be such a thing for
+me to say in India that I had shot a tiger in England.'</p>
+
+<p>'But,' said Mr. Stanhope, 'do you not think it would be better if the
+poor creature's life could be preserved? Its death must be a great loss
+to its owner, and life is, no doubt, happiness to the creature itself.
+Why terminate the existence of any animal by which we are not annoyed,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span>
+and which is not necessary to our subsistence? We certainly have no
+right to do so.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then you would not even kill a moth, Mr. Stanhope?' said Julia.</p>
+
+<p>'No, that he would not, I dare say,' said Agnes; 'dear little
+silver-wings. Mr. Stanhope knows that clippings of Russia leather and
+cedar-shavings will keep the little creatures off our shawls and muffs,
+and why should not the pretty things live and be happy?'</p>
+
+<p>'Are you the patroness of the spiders too, little girl?' said William.</p>
+
+<p>'I would put one out of my room,' said Agnes, 'if I found one there, but
+certainly I would not kill it, for you know it does me no harm, and
+surely it was intended that spiders should have some place to live in,
+or they would not have been made.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are a very considerate miss,' said William; 'but, at all events, we
+cannot afford any free place for tigers in this country. So come, dear
+father, let us have guns, and go with you and Mr. Stanhope, for I am
+sure neither of you intend to stay cooped up here. I promise to be under
+orders, and not move an inch in any way without permission.'</p>
+
+<p>'And I make the same promise,' said Frederick eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>'And I can answer for both,' said Mr. Stanhope warmly, 'that neither of
+those young gentlemen will fail to keep his word.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you, dear sir,' said the youths in the same breath.</p>
+
+<p>'Mother, grandmother, you don't wish us to stay here,' said William;
+'you would not like to see us milk-sops?'</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly not, my dears,' said the dowager. 'While you move under your
+father's directions your mother<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> and I can have nothing to fear. Courage
+is a virtue indispensible in a man and a gentleman, and like other
+virtues is confirmed by exercise. You need not walk into the tiger's
+mouth, you know; but if you find him likely to do mischief, and you can
+prevent it, I hope you will retain your self-possession so as to make
+sure aim, and pull your trigger firmly.'</p>
+
+<p>'Never fear, grandmother; never fear, dear mother,' cried the youths.</p>
+
+<p>'Good-bye, Bill; good-bye, Freddy,' said all the sisters.</p>
+
+<p>'Now, father, shall we go?'</p>
+
+<p>'What say you, Mr. Stanhope,' asked the baronet, 'will you make a sortie
+with us.'</p>
+
+<p>'Most willingly,' replied the tutor. 'I have a brace of trusty pistols
+in prime condition, and with a gun shall feel well equipped.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, then, ladies, adieu for the present,' said Sir William; 'you had
+better go up to the observatory; you may see all our movements from
+thence.'</p>
+
+<p>'An excellent thought,' replied Lady Clairmont; and away went the female
+party to their high station, while the gentlemen, well furnished with
+arms, walked out into the park, looking with keen inquiring eyes on
+every side as they went on. No enemy, however, appeared, but in about
+ten minutes, having taken the direction of the western lodge, they were
+surprised by the sight of a coach-and-four coming rapidly along.</p>
+
+<p>'By Jove, 'tis the Clairmont livery! 'tis Uncle Geoffrey, as I am
+alive!' exclaimed Sir William. 'What day of the month is this?'</p>
+
+<p>'The seventeenth,' said Frederick.</p>
+
+<p>'His letter says he shall be here on the eighteenth,' rejoined the
+baronet. 'Well, he must put up with what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> he can get for his dinner, and
+thank his own want of punctuality for his bad fare.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, poor Sheldon, what a fuss he will be in,' said Frederick laughing.
+'The turbot is taking his pastime in the waters, and the pheasant in the
+woods. Unfortunate Uncle Geff!'</p>
+
+<p>At this moment a tremendous shout or rather yell was heard in the
+direction of the Warren on the left, and at a considerable distance, but
+it grew louder and approached nearer every moment.</p>
+
+<p>'There is certainly something in the wind now,' said the gentlemen.
+Every eye was upon the alert, and the carriage within two hundred paces
+of our party.</p>
+
+<p>'Ha, there he goes!' said William.</p>
+
+<p>'There he goes!' cried Frederick, as the tiger darted across the park
+towards the carriage. 'He'll make at the horses. See! see! he has
+actually fastened upon poor Culina! No, 'tis Apicius, uncle's grand
+favourite. Look at the horses, how they rear and tear away!'</p>
+
+<p>'Now,' said Sir William, 'a little in this direction to be out of his
+side-sight. Remember we must act in concert, and all fire at his head at
+the same moment. A single bullet would but interrupt his attentions to
+poor Apicius, and call them to ourselves, but two brace must surely
+disable him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, father,' cried William, 'how terrified the horses are! See how they
+plunge and rear, first on one side the road, then on the other; they
+will upset poor Uncle Geff to a certainty. Look, the footman leaps off
+like lightning, and now the coachman follows him. See, they are climbing
+up into the old oak, and leave the horses to their fate, the cowards!
+The poor beasts are perfectly mad. Now they have done it. The fore-wheel
+has struck against the curbstone and flown off, and now the hind-wheel
+on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> same side is off too, and down goes the carriage. I'm sure I
+heard poor Uncle Geff cry out, but the tiger still keeps hold on the
+horse's shoulders.'</p>
+
+<p>'Now there's a moment's pause,' said the baronet. 'Fire at his head!'
+They did so, and their aim was so just that the creature fell instantly,
+but his efforts to rise, in which he nearly succeeded two or three
+times, filled the crowd which was now assembling with dismay.</p>
+
+<p>'Mr. Stanhope will lend you his pistols, boys,' said Sir William. 'Go
+nearer, if you like, and share the honour of giving the beast his
+quietus.'</p>
+
+<p>The youths took the arms exultingly, and advancing boldly towards the
+animal, who still writhed in fearful strength, they fired again at his
+head, and he then sunk to rise no more. It seems he had actually taken
+refuge in a hollow of the Warren, but the keepers had secured the
+entrance so imperfectly that he easily effected his escape.</p>
+
+<p>A loud cry of 'Victory! victory!' was uttered by the surrounding
+multitude, and the words 'Brave boys!' 'True Clairmonts!' were many
+times repeated by the crowd.</p>
+
+<p>'And now let us see after poor Mr. Clairmont,' said Sir William, going
+up to the carriage, which lay on its side. The two <i>stout gentlemen</i> who
+had clambered up into the oak, seeing the enemy breathless, had summoned
+courage to descend, and were trying to pacify and unharness the
+trembling horses.</p>
+
+<p>'How are you, my dear sir? how are you, Mr. Clairmont?' said the
+baronet, speaking aloud, not being able to see into the carriage.</p>
+
+<p>'<i>What</i> am I, you mean, nephew,' roared out the old gentleman. 'Why I am
+a perfect mass of blanc-mange, bruised to a universal pulp.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 411px;">
+<img src="images/i264.jpg" width="411" height="600" alt="&#39;There he goes!&#39;&mdash;Page 261." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>&#39;There he goes!&#39;&mdash;Page 261.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I hope not,' replied the baronet; 'no bones broken, I trust?'</p>
+
+<p>'Bones! I don't think I've such a thing as a bone belonging to me no
+more than if I had been hermetically sealed in a register-boiler. I tell
+you I'm nothing but a huge fricandeau; you may cut me in slices, and
+take me out piecemeal.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am happy to hear you are in a state to make merry with your
+misfortunes, my dear sir,' rejoined Sir William; 'but, seriously, how
+shall we manage to get you out?'</p>
+
+<p>'The tiger is dead as Napoleon, uncle, and lies at the feet of your
+favourite Apicius,' said William.</p>
+
+<p>'And the horses are taken off,' added the baronet; 'but I fear the
+raising of the carriage to assist your descending cannot be effected
+without giving you some more severe jolting. Where is your valet?
+Perhaps he can help you if the coach-door be got open. Melange,' cried
+Mr. Clairmont, 'are you dead or stupid?'</p>
+
+<p>'Ni l'un ni l'autre, monsieur,' replied the servant doggedly.</p>
+
+<p>'Then pray bestir yourself, and get me out of this miserable ruin. Don't
+you hear them say the tiger is killed? Why do you stay sprawling here
+looking as ghastly as if he were grinning at you in all his glory?'</p>
+
+<p>Melange began to move.</p>
+
+<p>'There now,' said his master, 'you have set your foot on the bottle in
+the side-pocket; there it goes&mdash;a bottle of my finest claret!'</p>
+
+<p>Melange popped his head over the perpendicular floor of the carriage,
+and seeing the tiger positively dead he sprang out with great facility,
+and appeared to have received no other injury than certain indications
+of culinary luxuries which besprinkled his habit so plentifully<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> as to
+give his tailor (had he seen it) hopes of an ample order for a refit.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, Melange,' said Sir William, 'what measure are you about to take
+for your master's relief?'</p>
+
+<p>'The carriage must be unpacked, Sir William,' said the valet
+consequentially, 'and then monsieur may be raised so gently as not to
+suffer any farther inconvenience.'</p>
+
+<p>He then, with the assistance of his two fellow-servants, removed all the
+packages from the boot, etc., etc., and by the help of the numerous
+bystanders propped up the carriage, and assisted his master to descend,
+the skirts of whose coat bore evident marks of the course the claret had
+taken when it escaped from its imprisonment in the flask, while his
+trousers and stockings appeared to have been liberally complimented with
+Ude's delicious <i>consomm&eacute;</i> at the moment of the grand squash.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Clairmont, having seen all from the observatory, had sent a sofa
+and pillows for her uncle's accommodation, which arrived at this moment,
+and the baronet, with Mr. Stanhope's aid, placed the old gentleman upon
+it in a state of comparative comfort, the boys trying to arrange the
+cushions and pillows for him, while an air of good-humoured contempt
+mingled with their assiduities.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, my poor friend, Apicius,' he exclaimed on seeing the dying horse
+panting beside the prostrate destroyer, 'nothing can be done for you, I
+see. Lead him away if possible, and put him out of his pain as
+mercifully as you can. Fine creature. I cannot bear to look at him; he
+little thought, when he pranced off so stately yesterday morning, that
+he was coming to feed the hounds at Clairmont, and a tit-bit they will
+find him; he's in capital condition. Pray let him be taken away.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think we had better take care of you first, dear sir,' said his
+nephew, 'but I fear you will not find a dinner<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> to your taste this
+evening. There will be two dishes minus at least, for we did not expect
+you till to-morrow, the eighteenth&mdash;the day you named.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ha, that was an unlucky mistake of Melange which we found out too late.
+He put the paper before me and dated the letter; but, however, as things
+have turned out it is of no consequence. I shall take no dinner to-day,
+but some pearl-sago, enriched with a good dash of old Jamaica. You must
+let me have a warm bath, nephew, and bid them put me to bed directly,
+and in two or three days, perhaps, all will be set to rights. Hope Lady
+Clairmont and all your family are well. How do you do, Mr. Stanhope?
+Excuse me, I can't pretend to see anybody for the next eight-and-forty
+hours. By this management I, perhaps, may escape a fit of the gout,
+which has certainly received a most pressing invitation to take intire
+possession of me, even on the very heels of the dog-days. Ha, William,
+how are you, my boy? and dear Freddy, how are you? How wonderfully you
+are both grown. No need to inquire if you are well; you must have been
+playing a capital knife and fork this last year, young gentlemen, but
+that's not surprising; you live in clover here at old Clairmont as
+usual. Fat Scotch cattle and black-faced sheep in the meadows, and a
+crowd of noble bucks in the park.'</p>
+
+<p>'Et les poissons,' said Melange, edging in his remark as he stood making
+some arrangement required by his master. 'Les jolis poissons qui
+s'&eacute;l&egrave;veront de temps hors l'eau, pour dire &agrave; leur fa&ccedil;on vous &ecirc;tes les
+bienvenus, Messieurs, nous aurons l'honneur de vous r&eacute;galer. Ah, c'etait
+un coup d'&oelig;il ravissant.'</p>
+
+<p>The boys laughed aloud, and Mr. Stanhope could hardly preserve his
+gravity, but Sir William gave Melange a look that seemed a deathblow to
+his flippancy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> for he moved off directly to the care of his jars and
+hampers.</p>
+
+<p>'And your pheasants, how are they? Suppose you have had grouse this
+fortnight? However, for fear of the worst, I've brought a few brace. Are
+your partridges lovable? But I forgot; you never disturb them till next
+month. But I should not dare to touch them if you could set me down to a
+covey just now; my stomach would take it fearfully amiss if I were to
+call upon it for any service at present, after all the bumpings and
+thumpings it has just suffered. But stay, before they carry me off I
+should like to ascertain the extent of the mischief we have sustained.
+Melange, get into the carriage and examine the contents of the
+sword-case and all the little private recesses. What a ruin it is!'</p>
+
+<p>The valet skipped in.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, is the <i>cura&ccedil;oa</i> safe?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, sir, the bottle is smashed to atoms.'</p>
+
+<p>'Not a drop left?'</p>
+
+<p>'Not a drop, monsieur.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, it was a liquor fit for the gods, and George the Fourth&mdash;made
+after old Goddard's recipe. His late Majesty used to say he never tasted
+any so excellent. And my "Treatise on the Wines of the Ancients," where
+is it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Here, sir'&mdash;holding it up outside the coach-door.</p>
+
+<p>'Actually seasoned with sardines; not a page legible, I fear. And
+there's the "Cook's Oracle," dumb as a fish, drowned in claret, and a
+new edition of "Ude" soaked, I'm aware, in one of his own delicious
+<i>consomm&eacute;s</i>. This is sad work, indeed! And the glaze?'</p>
+
+<p>'Smashed, monsieur.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, ruin upon ruin! Best portable soup in the kingdom! Only three men
+in England can make it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> However, Melange is one of the three. The
+edible nests<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> and the Strasburg livers?'</p>
+
+<p>'Quite safe, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>'The potted char, and the Scotch laver? The limes, and the olives, and
+the dravolinas?'</p>
+
+<p>'Tout est &agrave; merveille, monsieur.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then how have my medicines fared?'</p>
+
+<p>'They were put in the boot with the ginger, the parmesan, the Westphalia
+hams, and the reindeer tongues,' said Melange.</p>
+
+<p>'Now then, come down and see if the colchicum sherry, l'eau m&eacute;dicinale,
+gout mixture, cogniac, vespetro, noyau, and old Jamaica are safe.'</p>
+
+<p>Melange examined, and reported, 'Perfectly safe, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>'And the lachryma christi, Hermitage hock, and tokay, with the West
+India sweetmeats?'</p>
+
+<p>'All right.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, 'tis an untoward business enough, but it might have been worse,
+nephew,' said Mr. Clairmont, consoled to think all his hampers were in a
+sound state.</p>
+
+<p>'True, sir,' replied Sir William, 'infinitely worse. You have escaped
+broken bones, and out of four horses have lost only one.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then are all the rest safe and sound, coachman?' asked his master.</p>
+
+<p>'Quite well, sir, only terribly frightened, like some of us,' replied
+the man, smiling on one side of his face, and blushing as well as he
+could on the other, 'but life is sweet to us all, and who would not have
+run away from that frightful beast?' looking at the tiger.</p>
+
+<p>'What a beautiful animal it was!' said Mr. Stanhope to William.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>'Very beautiful indeed, sir,' replied William, 'and if I were rich I
+would buy its coat, and make a present of it to mother for a hearthrug.'</p>
+
+<p>'A very good thought, my boy,' said Mr. Clairmont, 'and you shall have
+it, if it is to be sold.'</p>
+
+<p>'Are you the proprietor of this unfortunate animal?' said the baronet.</p>
+
+<p>'I am, sir,' said one of the three men who were standing guard over the
+dead tiger, and waiting for an opportunity to ask the baronet for the
+loan of a cart to convey it to the town where their caravan was waiting.</p>
+
+<p>'What do you ask for the skin?' demanded Mr. Clairmont.</p>
+
+<p>The man named his price, and the demand, though somewhat exorbitant, was
+complied with, greatly to the satisfaction of the two youths, who were
+anxious to have it in the family as a memento of this, to them,
+important day. Sir William then ordered the tiger to be conveyed to the
+butchery, and uncoated preparatory to the operation the currier would
+have to perform on the skin previous to its exhibition in the
+dining-room.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, now, my good Melange,' said Mr. Clairmont, beckoning him to come
+near, and whispering coaxingly, 'you will see all our valuables safe
+before you leave them.'</p>
+
+<p>'Sans doute, monsieur, n'ayez pas peur, I have sent Foster on to the
+house for a cart, and shall have everything conveyed to that apartment
+you are accustomed to occupy. Of course we shall be there?'</p>
+
+<p>'Are we to have our old lodgings, nephew?' said Mr. Clairmont.</p>
+
+<p>'If you please, sir,' replied the baronet; 'your bedroom is as usual in
+the west angle, on the ground floor, close to the bath, which is the
+situation you have always preferred.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Ha, thank you, that is comfortable. You hear, Melange?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oui, monsieur.'</p>
+
+<p>'And now, nephew, if your carriers be ready say the word, and let us be
+moving, for I begin to feel terribly stiff and awkward in the sinews,
+and shall be right glad to find myself in a steaming bath. Don't
+forget,' added he to his servant, 'the gout-stool and the moxa, and all
+necessary for a good shampooing, and remember to have the sago ready for
+me on coming out of the bath. Now make haste, for here comes the cart.
+Be alive, Foster, as you were when you clambered up the oak like a
+squirrel.'</p>
+
+<p>'My valet shall attend you till Melange has made his arrangements,' said
+Sir William. 'No doubt your apartments are in perfect order by this
+time; so come, chairmen, take up the sofa, and go gently.'</p>
+
+<p>The men began their march, and the baronet walked on at a brisk pace to
+apprise Lady Clairmont that the whole family had a respite of
+eight-and-forty hours.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Stanhope and his pupils lingered behind, walking on very slowly till
+the men were out of hearing with their burden, and William then
+exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>'Go, you genuine sybarite! Uncle of mine, I would not accept the gift of
+all your estates if your gourmandizing be entailed on them.'</p>
+
+<p>'Neither would I,' said his brother. 'It is impossible for a man to be a
+more devoted slave to his appetite than our great-uncle Geff. The slave
+of the ring in the Arabian Nights' Entertainments had a holiday life of
+it in comparison. Perhaps it is wrong to say it, but really I feel quite
+disgusted with him. As father truly says, "All his conversation has
+reference to the sustenation of his insatiable maw," and we shall all be
+glad when this animal infliction is over.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Gourmandizing,' said Mr. Stanhope, 'is indeed a vice which fearfully
+degrades a man from the rank he was born to hold as a rational being,
+and I trust you will never either of you be under the dominion of such a
+tyrant.'</p>
+
+<p>'We should both of us,' said William, 'revolt at the idea of being an
+object of contempt to others, such as Uncle Geff is now to us.'</p>
+
+<p>'That's plain English,' replied Frederick, 'but not the most polite
+thing to say of one's venerable great uncle, brother Bill, and who has,
+moreover, just now given you that superb tiger's skin.'</p>
+
+<p>'The fear of the world's contempt,' said Mr. Stanhope, 'though salutary,
+ought not to influence our conduct so much as the consciousness that,
+while excess clogs our intellects, we become incapable of the virtuous
+exertions we might otherwise make, and that of the talents we have thus
+smothered we must one day render an account.'</p>
+
+<p>'And yet there are, I have heard, some men of great abilities and
+eminent virtue who are said to eat enormously,' said Frederick.</p>
+
+<p>'True,' replied the tutor, 'extreme hunger is, in some constitutions, a
+rapid effect of intense study, and the appetite may be innocently
+gratified while it rather adds to the impetus of thought than checks its
+advance. Excess begins when the perceptions become weak and indistinct
+by indulgence. Every person is able to judge for himself when he
+approaches that point, and, if he respect himself, he will stop short of
+it. Such men as those to whom you allude feel renovated by their meal,
+and return to their intellectual pursuits with increased alacrity, but
+the <i>veritable gourmand</i> divides his existence between the contemplation
+of what his dinner shall be, the pleasure of eating, and the labour of
+digesting it.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'It is very odd in Uncle Geff to bring his eatables and his cook to
+Clairmont. I wonder father will suffer it. What a larder this modern
+Lucullus carries about with him!' said Frederick.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, father has indulged him in the practice so many years that I
+suppose he does not think it worth his while to set his face against it
+now,' replied William. 'Besides, Melange is a superb cook. Sheldon finds
+it his interest to keep well with him, and gets into many of his
+culinary mysteries, of which father reaps the benefit when he is obliged
+to give great dinners. As to the Frenchman himself, it is easy to see he
+is the master of his master, and holds him fast by the stomach, as it
+were, by a talisman.'</p>
+
+<p>'What an honourable bondage for a man who is proud of his descent from
+men who were hand and glove with the conqueror,' said Frederick,
+laughing.</p>
+
+<p>A servant now came out upon the lawn to say tea had been waiting some
+time. The youths and their tutor hastened to the drawing-room, when
+William and his brother were congratulated on the fortunate issue of
+their rencounter with the tiger. Their gentle mother shed a tear of joy
+as she kissed the cheek of each darling child, and the dowager expressed
+herself happy at seeing they had proved themselves worthy descendants of
+the Clairmonts.</p>
+
+<p>'Emily,' said she to her grand-daughter in the joy of her heart, 'what
+do you think of your brothers now? Do you not think they will indeed
+prove an honour to the family, and realize in their manhood all the
+anticipations of youth? For my part, I feel so much obliged to our
+grand-dame Cicely Dewberry at the present moment, that I can hardly find
+words to express myself in due terms; that task I shall, therefore,
+leave to you.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Emily coloured at this remark, but, after a pause, replied:</p>
+
+<p>'I am so much pleased that my brothers have acquitted themselves with
+honour that I am equally at a loss for words with your ladyship.'</p>
+
+<p>The evening passed most agreeably, and the conversation was animated and
+interesting from the topics the occurrences of the day gave birth to. As
+for Lady Clairmont, she was, indeed, greatly pleased with the present of
+her new hearthrug, and Sir William ordered the body of the tiger to be
+deposited under the oak in which the servants had found shelter, saying
+that, some time or other, he might probably put down on that spot some
+solid memento of the event.</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> The nest of a bird found in the southern latitudes,
+considered a delicacy by the natives, particularly by European
+epicures.</p></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p>
+<h2>The Butcher's Tournament</h2>
+
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i275dc.jpg" width="153" height="150" alt="M" class="cap" />
+
+<p class="cap_2">Marmaduke Mumbles was the son of a worthy butcher in the village town of
+Scrambles.</p></div>
+
+<p>He was an only son, and as such, of course, petted by his father and
+spoiled by his mother.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mumbles had been in early life a lady's-maid, and, while in her
+waiting upon the Honourable Miss Languish, was employed not so much in
+millinery as novel reading, which she used to read to her young lady
+from morning till night, and from night till morning.</p>
+
+<p>The tales which took the fancy of the Honourable Miss Languish, and
+which were echoed from the mouth and mind of Miss Squeamish were those
+of 'high romance,' as it is termed. Young, handsome, virtuous, and
+valiant heroes going through more wonderful adventures than our poor
+Mosette in her nine lives, and poor Neddy Bray in his, I do not know how
+many.</p>
+
+<p>Then there must be, to please these novel readers, extraordinary
+situations, wonderful incidents, perplexing difficulties, overwhelming
+disasters, strange providences, and miraculous escapes, together with a
+proper assemblage of old castles, ruined tombs, yawning cloisters, grim<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span>
+vaults, mouldering coffins, unearthly sounds, awful visitations,
+spiritual appearances; ghosts in white sheets, with bleeding bosoms:
+hobgoblins with saucer eyes, fierce claws, and long tails; and
+catastrophes so tremendous as to set the hair on end, and convulse the
+whole frame with the delight of tenor, and the tenor of delight.</p>
+
+<p>Such was the food of Miss Squeamish, afterwards Mrs. Mumbles, in her
+early days.</p>
+
+<p>And she used to read and read and read till she looked upon the world in
+which she had to get her living as no world of hers, but a sort of
+common sphere made on purpose for tradespeople, washer-women, and
+cart-driving. She revelled in a world of the romances, where everything
+was made as it <i>ought to be</i>, where the virtuous were always rewarded
+and the wicked always punished, where high and noble sentiments met with
+the reception they deserved, and disinterestedness was duly appreciated,
+where passion and impulse, unmixed with the care of consequences, were
+held as the glory of both sexes, and everything that was fair and bright
+and beautiful, and free and elegant and good, shone triumphantly to the
+glory of the heroes and heroines who figured always so splendidly in
+these romantic pages.</p>
+
+<p>But at last all these bright visions were to end. Miss Languish died of
+a consumption brought on from lying in bed night and morning to read
+novels. And Miss Squeamish, afterwards Mrs. Mumbles, was forced to turn
+out into the world to seek her living&mdash;into that very world which was so
+odious to her. But there was no resource, and so the lady who had been
+identified with so many heroines was obliged to set up as a milliner and
+dressmaker in the little town of Scrambles.</p>
+
+<p>But the poor young woman soon found out that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> things were carried on in
+this world in a manner radically different from that in which the
+romances pictured. She soon found out that mutton was eightpence
+halfpenny a pound, and that if she did not look well after her butcher
+she would find her pound and a half of mutton chops weighing not quite a
+pound and a quarter; that bread was ten-pence a loaf, and that the baker
+was no more romantic than the butcher, and would, unless he was checked
+every day, find means to put down a 'dead one'; and that the milkman's
+chalk had got a notch in it, and would make two strokes instead of one.
+In short, that there was at the bottom of this best of all possible
+worlds a vast amount of sheer roguery.</p>
+
+<p>The consequence of Miss Squeamish's want of a knowledge of all this was
+that she soon found out the impossibility of being able to make things
+come together&mdash;'to make ends meet'&mdash;as the saying is.</p>
+
+<p>She floundered about in her business for a year or two, but grew poorer
+and poorer, got in debt largely with her grocer, baker, and butcher, and
+at last was obliged to stop for want of funds.</p>
+
+<p>But it is an old proverb that 'when one door shuts another opens,' and
+this was the only part of Miss Squeamish's philosophy which had ever
+come true. No sooner was her shop shut up than the bills came in, and
+with Mrs. Shambles' bill the copy of a writ, so that Miss Squeamish was
+on the high road to a prison. But fortune sometimes favours those who
+will not favour themselves, and it somehow or other happened that Miss
+Squeamish pleaded so eloquently for herself and her destitute situation
+with Mr. Mumbles, the very fat butcher and her principal creditor, that
+he agreed to cancel his debt and pay the others on condition that Miss
+Squeamish would become Mrs. Mumbles.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>And Mrs. Mumbles she did become. For Mr. Mumbles was very rich, and
+although in person he was not very imposing he made up in quantity for
+what he wanted in quality, and the prospect of plenty of meat and a good
+name to one destitute of either had such an effect on Miss Squeamish as
+to put to flight all her visionary ideas of perfection&mdash;love in a
+cottage and platonic affection&mdash;and she settled down, in appearance at
+least, as a very spruce butcher's wife, and took to caps, aprons, and
+blue ribands.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Mumbles was a thrifty man, and had been so all his life. He was
+about fifty years of age, and not disposed to alter his habits, but he
+required Mrs. Mumbles to alter hers. He proceeded, therefore, to give
+his worthy spouse some initiatory instructions in the art of jointing a
+scrag of mutton, cutting out a pluck, or chinning a whole sheep upon an
+occasion. This was very different from novel reading. She had, indeed,
+read of knights cleaving their adversaries from the 'chaps to the
+chine,' and of 'sticking to the heart,' and sometimes fancied, as she
+made a blow upon some unfortunate leg of mutton, which required
+shanking, that this would she do to the Knight of the Black Visage, or
+the cruel Tyrant of the Bloody Tower, or the Renegades of the Cross, or
+any other anti-hero, so that it might be said romance was <i>scotched</i> in
+her, not killed, as we shall hear in the sequel.</p>
+
+<p>After Miss Squeamish became Mrs. Mumbles she determined to endeavour to
+'civilize' her husband, as she called it. It did not follow because he
+was a butcher that he was to have butchering ideas for ever, or that he
+was to know nothing of 'literature,' as she termed it&mdash;that is, novels.
+Mr. Mumbles had read 'Puss in Boots,' 'Jack the Giant Killer,' 'Tom
+Thumb,' 'Jack and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> Bean Stalk,' 'Whittington and his Cat,' and
+'Mother Goose' in his childhood. In his boyhood he had gone through
+'Robinson Crusoe,' 'The Pilgrim's Progress,' and 'The Seven Champions of
+Christendom,' and therefore knew there was something in the world
+besides scrags of mutton.</p>
+
+<p>Having made these discoveries Mrs. Mumbles was determined to put her
+husband under regular training, to win him, by degrees, from his boorish
+estate to that of poetry and refinement. She looked at his unwieldy
+bulk&mdash;it was not exactly the size for a hero, but then she thought of
+bluff Harry the Eighth, who was both stout and romantic, and the Field
+of the Cloth of Gold, and so as Mr. Mumbles became romantic she made up
+her mind to put up with his stoutness.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Mumbles had no other relaxation on a summer's evening than a game of
+bowls, but as his fat increased so did his difficulty of playing this
+noble game. He used to think that once down it would require something
+more than the levers of his legs to lift him up again. So just as Mr.
+Mumbles had made up his mind within himself to leave off bowls did Mrs.
+Mumbles think of making him a hero outright. But she went cautiously
+about her work. She knew that to change the man she must first change
+the mind, and therefore she commenced her operations upon the mental
+part of Mr. Mumbles.</p>
+
+<p>Her first thought was as to the kind of hero she was to train him into.
+She would not like him to be a 'Jack Sheppard,' for fear he might break
+into some lady's heart with a crowbar of his impudence. Nor would she
+like him to be a 'Eugene Aram,' for fear he should make a mistake and
+hang her some night instead of himself. He seemed fitter for a 'Jack
+Falstaff' than anything else. But Falstaff was too witty for a hero, and
+she thought,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> perhaps, that if he laughed any more he would be only so
+much the fatter.</p>
+
+<p>She therefore put into his hands the most sentimental exotics of the
+publishing firms. There was the 'Elegant Maniac; or, the Snuff-coloured
+Rose and the Field of Silver,' a beautiful romance. Then there was the
+'Sentimental Footpad; or, Honour among Thieves.' And 'Syngenesia,' the
+last of the melancholies; with the 'Knight of the Snorting Palfrey; or,
+the Silken Fetlock.' These works she read to Mr. Mumbles on evenings
+instead of suffering him to repair to his bowls, and after a short time
+had the satisfaction to find him a ready and an eager listener. She read
+and read and read, and he became more and more interested, till at last
+he could scarcely find time to serve a customer if one happened to come
+in when the hero was in some 'interesting situation.'</p>
+
+<p>And so Mr. Mumbles began to find his business decline, for at last he
+would have his novel in his hand on a Saturday night, and would ask his
+customers concerning this or that book, which he happened to have been
+reading during the week. He would forget to joint the loins of mutton,
+to pickle the stale beef, to send out his orders; in short, his
+customers were treated with such neglect that his trade, long
+vacillating between going on and going off, suddenly stopped.</p>
+
+<p>Nor did Mr. Mumbles care a whit for it, as he was rich when his father
+died, had grown richer since, and was worth at least ten thousand pounds
+in houses, lands, and money. He would soon have given up his business
+had it not given up him, and therefore when somebody told him it was
+time to 'shut up shop,' he said: 'Yes, and I intend to do it.'</p>
+
+<p>Suiting the action to the word he forthwith began to retire. All the
+beasts and beastesses were sold off with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> the goodwill of the shop, the
+blocks, cleavers, hooks, and jemmies. And Mr. Mumbles planned out a
+house in a secluded spot about a mile from the town. It was to be called
+Mumbles Castle, and was to be built in the old English or baronial
+style, with turrets, low doors, battlements, arch windows, and gothic
+mouldings. The grand hall was twenty feet by fifteen, the armoury half
+the size, the refectory fourteen by fourteen. A long passage leading to
+the adjacent pigsties was called the corridor, and the bedchambers, four
+in number, were dignified with the names of the griffin room, the
+martlet, the rampant lion, and the wild boar, such being a part of the
+newly-formed armorial bearing of the Mumbles.</p>
+
+<p>The adjacent grounds were also laid out in a style corresponding with
+the castle. There was, among other arrangements for the comfort and
+delight of visitors, a tournament court, an archery ground, and a
+hawking mound. Certainly they were not of very extraordinary dimensions,
+but they were rather beyond the general scale of the other parts of the
+building. Mrs. Mumbles had in contemplation to give a grand f&ecirc;te of some
+kind or other. Mumbles talked of the house-warming, but that was vulgar.
+But at last, to ease all difficulties on this score, Master Marmaduke
+Tristram St. George Mumbles was born.</p>
+
+<p>When it was ascertained that provision for a baby was necessary Mr.
+Mumbles determined that everything should be conducted according to the
+established laws of chivalry. But having searched in vain among romances
+to find how such matters were managed, he gave up the matter in despair.
+He found that all romances having come to a marriage suddenly stopped.
+This was very perplexing, but there was no help for it, and as Master
+Marmaduke was in a hurry to come into the world he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> born before his
+father and mother could arrange the solemn order of the proceedings.</p>
+
+<p>But both Mr. and Mrs. Mumbles were determined that the christening
+should be conducted upon a scale of all conceivable splendour. There was
+no precedent for it, but then there was less likelihood of any mistake
+or more room for the fancy. But a gothic christening it was to be&mdash;a
+gothic christening it should be&mdash;a gothic christening it must be.</p>
+
+<p>And what would redound to the glory of so mighty an event? This was the
+consideration, this was the feat to be achieved. Mr. and Mrs. Mumbles
+had many a discourse upon the subject at breakfast, dinner, and supper,
+at morning, noon, and night, but still the happy idea was too good to
+strike them suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>At last Mrs. Mumbles had a dream. She dreamed of a tournament, and of
+all the glory of such an event. Polished helms, furbished arms, clang of
+trumpets, waving of banners and plumes, clouds of dust, clash of swords,
+unhorsing of knights, and outcry of heralds. When she awoke, she said
+emphatically to Mr. Mumbles, as he was beginning to take his morning
+yawn: 'I've hit it'; and gave him a sharp stroke on his wigless pate.</p>
+
+<p>'I think you have,' said Mr. Mumbles, 'and I would thank you not to hit
+quite so hard. But what do you mean, my dear Celestia?'</p>
+
+<p>'Mean,' replied the delighted spouse&mdash;'mean that I have hit upon a plan
+for doing honour to the birth of our son and heir, of the propagator of
+the glory of our house, and of the renowned name of Mumbles.'</p>
+
+<p>'Have you, by gowls?' said Mr. Mumbles. 'What is it?'</p>
+
+<p>'A tournament,' said she, 'a tournament, that glory of the chivalric
+ages; will it not be gloriously delightful to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> see once more "the light
+of other days" upon us? To see those battlements decked with the banners
+of the house of Mumbles, to hear the clarion ring, to listen to the
+strains of martial music, to see the lounge and thrust and anvil blow,
+knights unhorsed, armour riven, helms cloven.'</p>
+
+<p>'It would be a good go,' said Mr. Mumbles.</p>
+
+<p>'A good go; it would be a go and three-quarters&mdash;at least, according to
+your own phraseology. I think myself truly happy at having been blessed
+with such a revelation, and pray that I may be strengthened to perform
+my part of the ceremony.'</p>
+
+<p>'And what may that be?' said Mr. Mumbles.</p>
+
+<p>'Why of course I must be the queen of beauty, and you must be my king
+consort. The knights, having arranged themselves, must, first of all,
+pay their respects to me, and then the victor must kneel before me, and
+receive from my hands the richly-embroidered scarf and the crowning
+garland.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, it will be a grand day&mdash;an epoch in my existence&mdash;a sort of hera.
+I think they call it a <i>hera</i>. And if we could get the band of the
+Scrambles Volunteer Company it would be excellent; if not, I think I
+know some music that would suit.'</p>
+
+<p>'What is that?' inquired Mrs. Mumbles.</p>
+
+<p>'The marrow-bones and cleavers; they are very pretty music, and I should
+like <i>them</i>, band or no band.'</p>
+
+<p>'The marrow-bones and cleavers,' said Mrs. Mumbles in astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' said Mr. Mumbles, 'it was my glory when I was a boy, and we used
+to have them all rung at christenings and weddings. I have heard say
+that at my christening and at my mother's marriage they rang a treble
+bob-major.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'And pray, what is a bob-major?' inquired Mrs. Mumbles. 'I have heard of
+a serjeant-major and a drum-major, but never heard of a bob-major.'</p>
+
+<p>'A bob-major,' rejoined the elated butcher, 'is a long tune, that
+puzzles you to know when you will get to the end of it, and so you stand
+and wait and wait, till at last, all of a sudden, it stops.'</p>
+
+<p>'And how does it go, my dear? Is it a pretty tune?'</p>
+
+<p>'I should think it <i>was</i> a pretty tune&mdash;like the church bells, only more
+cutting, as it might be expected, from its coming from cleavers. It has
+made me cry like a child, Mrs. Mumbles.'</p>
+
+<p>'I hope it won't make baby cry.'</p>
+
+<p>'I hope not; but, cry or no cry, we must have it, and any other music
+you like.'</p>
+
+<p>This point being settled the ardent pair began to prepare, with the
+greatest alacrity, for the forthcoming f&ecirc;te.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mumbles declared that no expense should be spared to make the
+proceedings go off with &eacute;clat, and Mr. Mumbles began to fidget himself
+concerning the tournament laws, rules, and regulations.</p>
+
+<p>The principal difficulty was, however, in inducing others to take a part
+in this strange whim. Had it been bull-baiting or badger-drawing or
+cock-throwing or horse and donkey racing, hundreds would have been found
+ready to engage in the sport. But for a tournament! Most people did not
+even know the name of it, and Mr. Mumbles' description was in no way
+calculated to elucidate its mysteries, so that few seemed to care about
+lending themselves to the f&ecirc;te.</p>
+
+<p>There was, however, in the town of Scrambles a sharp dapper lawyer's
+clerk, who saw at once into the affair and what a frolic it might be
+made. He therefore<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> wrote a civil note to Mr. Mumbles, in which he
+expressed his delight at the forthcoming novelty, and offered himself as
+a candidate for the white silken scarf which was to be the reward of the
+victor in the field.</p>
+
+<p>The letter being couched in chivalric language, and ornamented with
+armorial bearings, delighted Mr. and Mrs. Mumbles above all things. They
+now felt a prospect of the realization of their fondest hopes, and began
+to prepare accordingly. The lawyer's clerk, whose name was Quiddity,
+also set about publishing the whole of the matter abroad. He soon
+succeeded in inducing a number of young men and maidens to favour the
+joke, and to lend themselves to it. He explained the insane folly of
+this worthy pair with such irresistible drollery that everyone was eager
+to be one of the favoured company.</p>
+
+<p>On the next interview Mr. Mumbles, delighted with the report of
+Quiddity, addressed him with truly dignified solemnity.</p>
+
+<p>'Sir Knight,' said he, 'thou hast done thy spirit gently. Thy wondrous
+works have found favour in mine eyes; be thou our warden from this time,
+and for evermore.'</p>
+
+<p>'With leave to thrust or lance,' said Quiddity; 'for I would not forego
+a rencontre for the lord-wardenship of the cinque ports.'</p>
+
+<p>'Sink me if you shall not tilt with me rather than that you should not
+display your prowess. On the morning of that auspicious day will I
+dissolve thee from the wardenship, and give thee freedom to thy
+knighthood. I will, with my own hands, buckle on thy armour, with my
+right hand place a spear in thy grasp, and with my left salute thee.'</p>
+
+<p>'And for me,' said Mrs. Mumbles, 'I will choose thee<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> for my own dear
+knight, and thou shalt fight under my banner, and be victorious; and
+then, when thou resist from the field of glory, will I embrace thee, and
+thou shalt be the envy of all beholders.'</p>
+
+<p>'We'll <i>stow</i> that,' said Mr. Mumbles, who did not appear to like the
+embracing part of the ceremony. 'But let us now form a committee of ways
+and means&mdash;that is to say, let us concoct the thing in a regular
+manner.'</p>
+
+<p>And so the three concoctors sat down to arrange the order of the
+proceedings.</p>
+
+<p>'And, first and foremost,' said Mr. Mumbles, 'we must have seats raised
+round the tilting coast, and a platform built at one end. Then at the
+other end must be a barrier for the knights to come in at; and then we
+must have a long pole <i>straight across</i> the ground, to prevent the
+horses <i>falling foul</i> of each other; and then we must have flags at
+different stations, charged with the armorial bearings of the knights,
+with their crests on the top of them.'</p>
+
+<p>'And then,' said Mrs. Mumbles, taking up the same strain, 'we must begin
+to think of dresses. For my part, I shall wear a white satin robe,
+trimmed with silver lilies, and a scarf of azure blue, richly
+embroidered with gold. Seven ostrich plumes shall wave from my brow; a
+lion's skin shall be spread for my feet; all my jewels shall be
+displayed to the best advantage; and I think I shall, upon the whole, be
+pretty considerably imposing. As to Mr. Mumbles, I intend to have him
+dressed in a manner which shall be unique, imposing, and captivating.'</p>
+
+<p>'We will first draw out a programme of the proceedings,' said Quiddity,
+'and then we can select the various personages who are to be honoured
+with having a part in the ceremony.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good,' said Mr. Mumbles.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'And I shall head it the "Mumblonian Tournament," and publish a
+challenge to all the world to deny the peerless beauty of Mrs. Mumbles.'</p>
+
+<p>'But won't that be coming it rather strong? I should like you to draw it
+pretty mild,' ejaculated Mr. Mumbles.</p>
+
+<p>'Not a bit too strong,' said Mrs. Mumbles, with a toss of her head. 'Go
+on, pray, Mr. Quiddity.'</p>
+
+<p>So Mr. Quiddity went on:</p>
+
+<p>'And then, of course, we should find persons sending in their defiance,
+and extolling other dames, and therefore we should have all our knights,
+squires, horses, armour, and so on.'</p>
+
+<p>'But must we not publish regulations afterwards?' observed Mumbles.</p>
+
+<p>'Of course we must. That is to say, every knight who professes his
+readiness to break a lance must provide himself with horse, weapons, and
+esquire, and send in his certificate of noble blood and knightly
+bearing.'</p>
+
+<p>'But where shall we place the proclamation?'</p>
+
+<p>'On the doors of the church, certainly; upon the "cage"; upon the
+"pound"; and other public institutions of our country.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good,' said Mr. Mumbles; 'I like to honour the institutions of my
+country, and therefore I would not have forgotten the parish pump.'</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly not, my dear sir. Well, then, we must apply to the
+schoolmaster to let us have, on hire, the boys and girls of the national
+schools to walk in order before the procession, with silver wands in
+their hands and blue ribands in their hats, while the girls should be
+dressed all in white like nymphs, and strew flowers.'</p>
+
+<p>'Capital,' said Mr. Mumbles; 'and then we can give them a tuck-out with
+rolls and treacle; won't the boys like it&mdash;ay, and the girls too! Lawks!
+how I did laugh<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> once to see girls eat rolls and treacle! They beat the
+boys out and out at that fun. They dabbed the treacle into each other's
+eyes, and roped it over each other's shoulders, and swung it into each
+other's faces, like good 'uns. There is nothing like girls for a spree;
+when they do begin, they beat the boys hollow.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, then,' continued Quiddity, 'I thought of hiring for a day the old
+workhouse women, to act as matrons or sibyls, as the case may be. They
+will be a pretty contrast to the "gals." And, that they may not cry out,
+we will treat them all to a pound of snuff apiece, and a new dress.'</p>
+
+<p>'And a red brocade petticoat each, and a Margaret of Anjou cap or hat.'</p>
+
+<p>'What, one of those with a long poke behind like a rolling-pin, and a
+veil at the end of it?' said Mr. Mumbles.</p>
+
+<p>'Just so, my dear,' replied the lady; 'and they must have one stocking
+red and the other blue.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ay, ay,' rejoined Mumbles, with an arch look, 'I know the reason of
+that; you fancy but for this expedient that in the <i>crowd</i> the old
+ladies would not otherwise know one leg from the other.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are quite wrong, my dear; but we must follow the ancient costume,
+you know, or else we shall be laughed at.'</p>
+
+<p>'What shall be next?' said Mr. Quiddity.</p>
+
+<p>'Ay, what next, my dear?' said Mrs. Mumbles, who seemed herself to be
+got to her wits' end.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, <i>I</i> was thinking, love, that after the old women we should have a
+bullock, dressed with blue ribands, and garnished with flowers, roasted
+whole.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, upon the green, after the sports,' said Mrs. Mumbles; 'and, as I
+should like the whole of the ceremony to conclude with a bonfire and a
+discharge of fireworks,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> the fire that is to roast the bullock can be
+kept up, which will be killing two birds with one stone, you know.'</p>
+
+<p>And thus the preliminaries for the grand entertainment were settled by
+the three who were to be chief actors in it. Quiddity, in the very
+frolicsomeness of his heart, now canvassed the town, and, with little
+difficulty, succeeded in bringing a number of persons into the plot or
+joke; and banners were prepared, armour was provided, and arms of every
+description brought into requisition.</p>
+
+<p>At last the important day arrived. It was ushered in by a discharge of
+firearms from the back of the butcher's premises. A squadron of horsemen
+next paraded the town on horses, ponies, and donkeys, with the
+marrow-bones and cleavers, and rung most dolorous music. Mr. Mumbles
+arose from his bed at earliest dawn, and, having breakfasted, set to
+enrobing himself as a grand grandee of the first order. His dress was of
+the time of Louis XIV. of France, frilled and furbelowed; and, when
+fully arranged, Mr. Mumbles looked like a real Prince, and Mrs. Mumbles
+held up her hands in astonishment and delight.</p>
+
+<p>The back premises of Mr. Mumbles had been already prepared; a rude
+scaffolding, with seats, skirted three sides of a quadrangle, to which
+admission was to be obtained for the small charge of one penny, the
+whole of the proceeds to go to the Institution for the Cure of
+Rheumatism. The people mustered in large numbers, and, although the
+tournament joust did not boast of many lords and ladies, or persons of
+high ancestral lineage, yet everyone was, according to Adamic heraldry,
+a perfect gentleman or lady in their own right; for they all bore
+<i>arms</i>, with the exception of Jack Sprat, the bellman, who could only
+muster one, with which he rang his bell.</p>
+
+<p>In the centre of the platform, at the upper end, was a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> raised seat, and
+a canopy over it. The seat was covered with yellow baize, and the canopy
+was formed of the hangings of Mr. Mumbles' best spare bed. It was red,
+bordered with yellow, which hung in fanciful festoons, and a
+richly-carved bed-foot on each gave the whole a very imposing
+appearance. On this raised seat, which was made to hold two, were placed
+two armchairs, richly gilt, and around these were other chairs for
+persons of distinction, who now began to arrive in pretty considerable
+numbers. First, there was the Grand Master of the Odd Fellows, with a
+numerous retinue, with their emblematical tools, flags, banners, and
+devices. He entered the arena amid the clang of trumpets and the roll of
+drums, and proceeded to the place assigned him. Then came the President
+of the Anti-Lie-a-Bed Society, with a whole troop of boys and girls who
+had been cured of this great sin by drinking half a pint of yeast
+overnight, which made them <i>rise early</i> in the morning. They were
+received by 'artificial cock-crowing' by the gallant showman, who had a
+place assigned him as underwarden. Then came a batch of young damsels,
+all in white, being chimney-sweepers' daughters; and after them a
+flourish of trumpets&mdash;that is, <i>cow-horns</i>&mdash;a squadron of costermongers'
+donkey-lads mounted, with their pocket-handkerchiefs floating from the
+vulnerable point of 'bean-sticks.'</p>
+
+<p>Next came the redoubtable Mr. Mumbles himself, leading Mrs. Mumbles by
+the hand, preceded by the young lawyer Quiddity. He ascended the throne
+provided for him with extraordinary dignity, and, having made a bow to
+the company by putting his hand to one of his curls, as if to pull his
+head down, and giving a scrape with his foot behind, the whole assembly
+burst out with a simultaneous cheer&mdash;'Mumbles for ever! Mumbles for
+ever!'</p>
+
+<p>Soon after Mr. Mumbles had seated himself the clang<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> of trumpets was
+heard, and Quiddity appeared on a splendid pony, richly caparisoned,
+with a hearthrug under his saddle as a saddle-cloth, having in one hand
+his baton of office, and in the other a banner. After making his
+obeisance to the king and queen of the tournament, Mrs. and Mr. Mumbles,
+he took his place in the centre. Immediately the horns were blown, the
+mob shouted, and Quiddity read the following proclamation:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'<i>To all whom it may concern, and to our beloved Neighbours, greeting,</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>'With a view to do away with and put down the cowardly, dastardly, and
+<i>ungenteel</i> sports of bull-baiting, badger-baiting, fox-hunting,
+pigeon-shooting, and other wicked and cruel amusements, we, John Mumbles
+and Co., King of Chivalry, Grand Master of this Tournament, invite all
+persons, gentlemen born, to engage in, and others to <i>witness</i>, trials
+of skill, might, prowess, and magnanimity by means of tilt, combat, or
+archery, and all those knights who have been enrolled as true knights,
+worthy to try their prowess in the tilts, are hereby invited to do so
+without fee or reward, fear or distinction.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'<span class="smcap">God Save the Queen.</span>'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>'Hurrah! hurrah!' said everybody, and then arose the flapping of white
+pocket-handkerchiefs, the waving of flags, the sounding of horns, and
+the beating of drums. The arena was cleared by Sam Swipes with a long
+cart-whip, and opposite to each other, by separate entrances, appeared
+the first two knights who were to engage&mdash;(1) The Knight of the Boiling
+Fish-kettle, (2) The Knight of the Red-hot Copper. The Knight of the
+Boiling Fish-kettle was armed with a splendid helmet of polished metal,
+something resembling a double block-tin dish-cover,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> No. 3 on the
+bottom; at the top was inverted a red-boiled lobster for a crest, over
+which hung in graceful curves three black cats' tails duly charged with
+electricity. A large pewter-dish formed the breast-plate of this knight,
+while his arms and thighs were plated with bands of tin, which had an
+exceedingly martial appearance. The shield of the knight was the lid of
+the fish-kettle, a broad oblong defence, upon which was painted the
+device of a leg of pork, with the motto 'Porkus est miceabus.' The
+lance-pole of this knight was a clothes-prop, at the end of which a
+pepper-box was duly fixed instead of a lance.</p>
+
+<p>The Knight of the Copper was also mounted on a steed; it was of a
+reddish-brown, and for his saddle-cloth he had chosen a rich damask
+table-cover, which nearly covered the whole body of the animal. He had
+on his head a copper cake-mould in the shape of a porcupine. His
+breast-plate was a richly-figured japanned waiter. His armour consisted
+of muffin-tins fixed over his arms and legs, his crest was a 'scalded
+cat,' and his shield a copper-lid of wood. The copper-lid was painted
+green, and it had for its device a calve's head, with a lemon in its
+mouth, with the motto, 'Calve's head is best hot.'</p>
+
+<p>The knights being set in due array and in proper position, at the sound
+of the herald's trumpets spurred their nags, and went towards each other
+with the velocity of lightning. At the first assault the pepper-box was
+dashed to pieces against the copper-lid, and the fractured fragments
+clattered about the combatants. The next charge upset the Knight of the
+Boiling Fish-kettle and his Rosinante at the same time, and both lay
+wallowing on the ground. Mr. Mumbles on this rose from his seat, and the
+Knight of the Red-hot Copper made his appearance on the throne or
+platform, where, kneeling down, he received at the hands of Mrs. Mumbles
+a beautiful white silken scarf, while the assembly shouted, the drums
+beat, and the trumpets sounded.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 413px;">
+<img src="images/i293.jpg" width="413" height="600" alt="Knights in armour tumbled over their own steeds, donkeys
+ran snorting about, ladies shrieked.&mdash;Page 295." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>Knights in armour tumbled over their own steeds, donkeys
+ran snorting about, ladies shrieked.&mdash;Page 295.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>How long this foolery would have gone on I know not, but just as the
+ceremony was being performed of investing the conqueror knight with the
+silken scarf a loud cracking was heard under the platform. Mr. Mumbles
+looked red, Mrs. Mumbles looked pale, the company stood aghast, the
+music ceased, the uproar was quelled, and the applause subsided. Crack,
+snap, bang! What was the matter? The fireworks placed underneath the
+scaffolding, and which were to have concluded the evening's
+entertainments, had by some means or other ignited. Presently a rocket
+with a loud roar made a sweep in a slanting direction through the canvas
+at the top of the canopy, to the consternation of all. Before the alarm
+subsided, and before anyone could make his or her escape by flight,
+another and another rocket rushed from beneath the scaffolding with
+prodigious roar and flame. The alarm became general; Mrs. Mumbles
+fainted; Mr. Mumbles roared out 'Fire, fire!' as loud as he was able.
+But now the indiscriminate ignition of rockets, crackers, squibs,
+Catherines, fiery fountains, flaming cascades, sparkling arbours, and
+gunpowder and nitre pillars, and suns, stars, and comets enveloped the
+whole throne and its appurtenances in a blaze of fiery splendour.
+Rockets shot out on every side, fiery squibs ran along the ground,
+Catherine wheels danced on every shoulder, and crackers banged at every
+heel. Such a scene of confusion followed as is seldom witnessed. Knights
+in armour tumbled over their own steeds, donkeys ran snorting about,
+ladies shrieked, and fell over gentlemen, and gentlemen tumbled over
+ladies in pell-mell havoc and confusion, amid smoke and steam and
+hissing and cracking and banging and roaring.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was with the greatest difficulty that Mr. and Mrs. Mumbles were
+extricated from the danger that threatened them&mdash;namely, being burnt
+alive. But Mrs. Mumbles was carried home in a wheelbarrow in a state of
+insensibility, while Mr. Mumbles had the same attention bestowed upon
+him through the intervention of a well-disposed hurdle and four of the
+marrow-bone and cleaver musicians.</p>
+
+<p>Such was the untoward end of the Mumblonian tournament, an event not to
+be easily forgotten in the locality in which it took place. It was
+subsequently found out, as it ought to have been discovered before, that
+both Mr. and Mrs. Mumbles had driven themselves mad by novel and romance
+reading, and they were both obliged to be sent to a madhouse for some
+time before they could be cured of their egregious folly. But as they
+<i>were cured</i>, it may be said that the circumstances which I have related
+were 'all for the best.'</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span></p>
+<h2>Malleville's Night of Adventure</h2>
+
+
+<h3>I</h3>
+
+<h3>The Story of Agnes</h3>
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i296dc.jpg" width="144" height="150" alt="I" class="cap" />
+
+
+<p class="cap_2">In a few minutes Beechnut returned with a large rocking-chair, which he
+placed by the fire, on one side. He then took Malleville in his arms,
+and carried her to the chair, and sat down. Next he asked Phonny to go
+out into the entry, and look by the side of the door, and to bring in
+what he should find there.</p></div>
+
+<p>'What is it?' said Malleville.</p>
+
+<p>'You will see,' replied Beechnut. So saying, he placed Malleville in his
+lap in such a position that she could see the door and the fire. Her
+head rested upon a small pillow which Beechnut had laid upon his
+shoulder. By the time that Malleville was thus placed, Phonny came back.
+He had in his hand a small sheet-iron pan, with three large and rosy
+apples in it. Beechnut directed Phonny to put this pan down upon the
+hearth where the apples would roast.</p>
+
+<p>'Who are they for?' asked Malleville.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'One is for you,' replied Beechnut, 'one for Phonny, and one for me. But
+we are not going to eat them till to-morrow morning.'</p>
+
+<p>'There ought to be one for Hepzibah,' said Malleville.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, Hepzibah can get as many apples as she wants,' said Beechnut, 'and
+roast them whenever she pleases. Only,' he continued, after a moment's
+pause, 'perhaps it would please her to have us remember her, and roast
+her one together with ours.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' said Phonny. 'I think it would.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then,' said Beechnut, 'you may go, Phonny, and get her an apple. You
+can make room for one more upon the pan.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well,' said Phonny, 'but you must not begin the story until I come
+back.'</p>
+
+<p>So Phonny went away to get an apple for Hepzibah. In a short time he
+returned, bringing with him a very large and beautiful apple, which he
+put upon the pan with the rest. There was just room for it. He then set
+the pan down before the fire, and took his own seat in the little
+rocking-chair, which still stood in its place by the side of the
+light-stand.</p>
+
+<p>'Now, Beechnut,' said he, as soon as he was seated, 'now for the story.'</p>
+
+<p>'What sort of story shall I tell you, Malleville?' asked Beechnut.
+'Shall it be the plain truth, or shall it be embellished?'</p>
+
+<p>'Embellished,' said Malleville. 'I wish you would embellish it as much
+as ever you can.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well,' said Beechnut, 'I will tell you about Agnes.'</p>
+
+<p>'Agnes!' repeated Phonny. 'Who was she?'</p>
+
+<p>'You must not speak, Phonny,' said Malleville. 'Beechnut is going to
+tell this story to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' said Beechnut, 'it is altogether for Malleville,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> and you must
+not say a word about it from beginning to end.'</p>
+
+<p>'One night,' continued Beechnut, 'about three weeks ago, I sat up very
+late in my room, writing. It was just after I had got well from my hurt,
+and as I had been kept away from my desk for a long time, I was very
+glad to get back to it again, and I used to sit up quite late in the
+evenings, writing and reading. The night that I am now speaking of, I
+sat up even later than usual. It had been a very warm day, and the
+evening air, as it came into my open window, was cool and delightful.
+Besides, there was a bright moon, and it shone very brilliantly upon the
+garden, and upon the fields and mountains beyond, as I looked upon them
+from my window.</p>
+
+<p>'At last I finished my writing just as the clock struck twelve, and as I
+still did not feel sleepy, notwithstanding that it was so late, and as
+the night was so magnificent, I thought that I would go out and take a
+little walk. So I put my books and papers away, took my cap, and put it
+upon my head, and then stepped out of the window upon the roof of the
+shed, which, you know, is just below it. I thought it better to go out
+that way rather than to go down the stairs, as by going down the stairs
+I might possibly have disturbed somebody in the house.</p>
+
+<p>'I walked along the roof of the shed, without meeting anybody or seeing
+anybody except Moma. She was lying down asleep behind one of the
+chimneys.'</p>
+
+<p>Moma was a large black cat belonging to Malleville.</p>
+
+<p>'Poor Moma!' said Malleville. 'Has not she got any better place to sleep
+in than that? I mean to make her a bed as soon as I get well.'</p>
+
+<p>'When I reached the end of the shed,' continued Beechnut, 'I climbed
+down by the great trellis to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> fence, and from the fence to the
+ground. I went along the yard to the steps of the south platform, and
+sat down there. It looked very pleasant in the garden, and I went in
+there. I walked through the garden, and out at the back gate into the
+woods, and so up the glen. I rambled along different glens and valleys
+for half an hour, until at last I came to a most beautiful place among
+groves and thickets where there was a large spring boiling out from
+under some mossy rocks. This spring was in a deep shady place, and was
+overhung with beautiful trees. In front of the spring was a large basin
+of water, half as large as this room. The water was very clear, and as
+the moonlight shone upon it through the interstices of the trees, I
+could see that the bottom was covered with yellow sands, while beautiful
+shells and pebbles lined the shore.</p>
+
+<p>'The water fell down into the basin from the spring in a beautiful
+cascade. All around there were a great many tall wild flowers growing.
+It seemed to me the most beautiful place I ever saw. I sat down upon a
+large round stone which projected out from a grassy bank just below this
+little dell, where I could see the basin of water and the spring, and
+the flowers upon its banks, and could hear the sound of the water
+falling over the cascade.</p>
+
+<p>'There was a very large oak-tree growing near the basin on the one side.
+I could only see the lower part of the stem of it. The top was high in
+the air, and was concealed from view by the foliage of the thickets. The
+stem of the tree was very large indeed, and it had a very ancient and
+venerable appearance. There was a hollow place in this tree very near
+the ground, which had in some degree the appearance of a door, arched
+above. The sides of this opening were fringed with beautiful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> green
+moss, which hung down within like a curtain, and there were a great many
+beautiful flowers growing upon each side of it. Another thing which
+attracted my attention and excited my curiosity very strongly, was that
+there seemed to be a little path leading from this door down to the
+margin of the water.</p>
+
+<p>'While I was wondering what this could mean, I suddenly observed that
+there was a waving motion in the long moss which hung down within the
+opening in the trunk of the tree, and presently I saw a beautiful little
+face peeping out. I was, of course, very much astonished, but I
+determined to sit perfectly still, and see what would happen.</p>
+
+<p>'I was in such a place that the person to whom the face belonged could
+not see me, though I could see her perfectly. After looking about for a
+minute or two timidly, she came out. She was very beautiful indeed, with
+her dark hair hanging in curls upon her neck and shoulders. Her dress
+was very simple, and yet it was very rich and beautiful.'</p>
+
+<p>'What did she have on?' asked Malleville.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, I don't know that I can describe it very well,' said Beechnut. 'I
+am not much accustomed to describe ladies' dresses. It was, however, the
+dress of a child. She had in her hand a very long feather, like a
+peacock's feather, only, instead of being of many colours, it was white,
+like silver, and had the lustre of silver. I verily believe it must have
+been made of silver.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't believe it would be possible,' said Phonny, 'to make a feather
+of silver.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why not?' asked Beechnut, 'as well as to make a tassel of glass?
+However, it <i>looked</i> like silver, and it was extremely graceful and
+brilliant as she held it in her hands waving in the moonbeams.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'After looking about for a minute or two, and seeing nobody, she began
+to dance down the little path to the brink of the basin, and when she
+reached it she began to speak. "Now," said she, "I'll freeze the
+fountain, and then I'll have a dance."</p>
+
+<p>'As she said this, she stood upon the pebbles of the shore, and began
+gently to draw the tip of her long feather over the surface of the
+water, and I saw, to my amazement, that wherever the feather passed it
+changed the surface of the water into ice. Long feathery crystals began
+to shoot in every direction over the basin wherever Agnes moved her
+wand.'</p>
+
+<p>'Was her name Agnes?' asked Malleville.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' said Beechnut.</p>
+
+<p>'How do you know?' asked Malleville.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, she told me afterwards,' replied Beechnut. 'You will hear how
+presently. When she had got the surface of the water frozen, she stepped
+cautiously upon it to see if it would bear.'</p>
+
+<p>'Would it?' asked Malleville.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' replied Beechnut, 'it bore her perfectly. She advanced to the
+middle of it, springing up and down upon her feet to try the strength of
+the ice as she proceeded. She found that it was very strong.</p>
+
+<p>'"Now," said she, "for the cascade."</p>
+
+<p>'So saying, she began to draw her silver feather down the cascade, and
+immediately the same effect was produced which I had observed upon the
+water. The noise of the waterfall was immediately hushed. Beautiful
+stalactites and icicles were formed in the place of the pouring and
+foaming water. I should have thought that the cascade had been wholly
+congealed were it not that I could see in some places by the moonlight
+that the water was still gurgling down behind the ice, just as it
+usually does when cascades and waterfalls are frozen by natural cold.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 409px;">
+<img src="images/i302.jpg" width="409" height="600" alt="Wherever the feather passed it changed the surface of
+the water.&mdash;Page 302." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>Wherever the feather passed it changed the surface of
+the water.&mdash;Page 302.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' said Phonny, 'I have watched it very often on the brook.'</p>
+
+<p>'On what brook?' asked Malleville.</p>
+
+<p>'On the pasture brook,' said Phonny.</p>
+
+<p>Beechnut took no notice of Phonny's remark, but went on with his
+narrative as follows:</p>
+
+<p>'Agnes then walked back and forth upon the ice, and began to draw the
+tip of her long silver feather over the branches of the trees that
+overhung the basin, and over the mossy banks and the tall grass and
+flowers. Everything that she touched turned into the most beautiful
+frost-work. The branches of the trees were loaded with snow, the banks
+hung with icicles, and the tall grass and flowers seemed to turn white
+and transparent, and they glittered in the moonbeams as if they were
+encrusted with diamonds. I never saw anything so resplendent and
+beautiful.</p>
+
+<p>'At last she looked round upon it all and said: "There, that will do. I
+wonder now if the ice is strong enough."</p>
+
+<p>'Then she went into the middle of the ice, and standing upon it on
+tiptoe, she sprang up into the air, and then came down upon it again, as
+if she were trying its strength. At the same instant she said or sung in
+a beautiful silvery voice, like a bird, the word, "Peep!"</p>
+
+<p>'When she had done this, she stopped for a moment to listen. I sat
+perfectly still, so as not to let her know that I was near. Presently
+she leaped up again twice in succession, singing, "Peep! Peep!"</p>
+
+<p>'Then, after pausing a moment more, she began to dance away with the
+utmost agility and grace, singing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> all the time a little song, the music
+of which kept time with her dancing. This was the song:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'"<i>Peep! peep! chippeda dee,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Playing in the moonlight&mdash;nobody to see;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The boys and girls are gone away,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>They've had their playtime in the day,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And now the night is left to me.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Peep! peep! chippeda dee!</i>"'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>'That's a pretty song,' said Malleville.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' said Beechnut, 'and you cannot imagine how beautifully she sang
+it, and how gracefully she danced upon the ice while she was singing. I
+was so delighted that I could not sit perfectly still, but made some
+movement that caused a little rustling. Agnes stopped a moment to
+listen. I was very much afraid that she would see me. She did not see
+me, however, and so she began the second verse of her song:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'"<i>Peep! peep! chippeda dee!</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The moon is for the mountains, the sun is for the sea!</i>"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>'When she had got so far,' continued Beechnut, 'she suddenly stopped.
+She saw me. The fact was, I was trying to move back a little farther, so
+as to be out of sight, and I made a little rustling, which she heard.
+The instant she saw me, she ran off the ice, and up her little path to
+the opening in the oak, and in a moment disappeared. Presently, however,
+I saw the fringe of moss moving again, and she began to peep out.</p>
+
+<p>'"Beechnut," said she, "how came you here?"</p>
+
+<p>'"Why, I was taking a walk," said I, "and I came along this path. Don't
+you want me to be here?"</p>
+
+<p>'"No," said she.</p>
+
+<p>'"Oh, then I will go away," said I. "But how came you to know me?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'"Oh, I know you very well," said she. "Your name is Beechnut."</p>
+
+<p>'"And do you know Malleville?" said I.</p>
+
+<p>'"Yes," said she. "I know her very well. I like Malleville very much. I
+like her better than I do you."</p>
+
+<p>'"Ah," said I; "I am sorry for that. Why do you like her better than you
+do me?"</p>
+
+<p>'"Because she is a girl," said Agnes.</p>
+
+<p>'"That is a good reason," said I, "I confess. I like girls myself better
+than I do boys. But how came you to know Malleville?"</p>
+
+<p>'"Oh, I have seen her a great many times," said she, "peeping into her
+windows by moonlight, when she was asleep."</p>
+
+<p>'"Well," said I, "I will tell Malleville about you, and she will want to
+come and see you."</p>
+
+<p>'"No," said Agnes, "she must not come and see me; but she may write me a
+letter."</p>
+
+<p>'"But she is not old enough to write letters," said I.</p>
+
+<p>'"Then," said she, "she must tell <i>you</i> what to write, and you must
+write it for her."'</p>
+
+<p>Beechnut observed that, though Phonny and Malleville neither of them
+spoke, they were both extremely interested, and somewhat excited by the
+story, and that he was far from accomplishing the object which he had in
+view at first in telling a story, namely, lulling Malleville to sleep.
+He therefore said to Malleville that, though he had a great deal more to
+tell her about Agnes, he thought it would be better not to tell her any
+more then; but that he would sing Agnes's song to her, to the same tune
+that Agnes herself sung it. He would sing it several times, he said, and
+she might listen, laying her head upon his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>Malleville said that she should like very much to hear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> Beechnut sing
+the song, but that after he had sung it, she hoped he would tell her a
+<i>little</i> more about Agnes that night. She liked to hear about her, she
+said, very much indeed.</p>
+
+<p>So Beechnut changed Malleville's position, placing her in such a manner
+that her head reclined upon his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>'Shut your eyes now,' said he, 'and form in your mind a picture of the
+little dell and fountain, with the frost-work beaming in the moonlight,
+and Agnes dancing on the ice while I sing.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Beechnut began to sing the first verse of the song to a very lively
+and a pretty tune. He could not sing the second verse, he said, because
+he had not heard it all. But the first verse he sung over and over
+again.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'<i>Peep! peep! chippeda dee!</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Playing in the moonlight, nobody to see;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The boys and girls have gone away.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>They've had their playtime in the day,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And now the night is left for me.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Peep! peep! chippeda dee!</i>'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Malleville lay very still, listening to the song for about five minutes,
+and then Beechnut found that she was fast asleep. He then rose very
+gently, and carried her to her bed. He laid her in the bed, and Phonny,
+who stood by, covered her with the clothes. He and Phonny then crept
+softly out of the room.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>II</h3>
+
+<h3>A Sound Sleeper</h3>
+
+<p>About nine o'clock, Hepzibah, having finished her work for the day,
+covered up the kitchen fire, and fastened the outer doors. Beechnut had
+gone to bed, and so had Phonny. Hepzibah went into Phonny's room to see
+if all was safe, and to get the light. She then went into Malleville's
+room.</p>
+
+<p>The room had a very pleasant aspect, although the fire had nearly gone
+down. The lamp was burning on the stand at the foot of the bed where
+Phonny had left it. Hepzibah advanced softly to the bedside. Malleville
+was lying asleep there, with her cheek upon her hand.</p>
+
+<p>'Poor child!' said Hepzibah to herself. 'She has gone to sleep. What a
+pity that I have got to wake her up by-and-by, and give her some
+medicine.'</p>
+
+<p>Hepzibah then looked at a clock which stood upon the mantel-shelf, and
+saw that it was a little past nine. It was an hour or more before it
+would be time to give Malleville the drops. Hepzibah thought that if she
+went to bed, she should fall asleep, and not wake up again until
+morning, for she always slept very soundly. She determined, therefore,
+that she would sit up until half-past ten, and then, after giving
+Malleville the medicine, go to bed. She accordingly went and got her
+knitting-work, intending to keep herself awake while she sat up by
+knitting. When she came back into the room, she began to look for a
+comfortable seat. She finally decided on taking the sofa.</p>
+
+<p>Mary Bell, after using the sofa for Malleville while she was making the
+bed, had put it back into its place by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> the side of the room. Hepzibah,
+however, easily brought it forward again, for it trundled very smooth
+and noiselessly upon its castors. Hepzibah brought the sofa up to the
+fire, placing one end of it near to the stand, in order that she might
+have the benefit of the lamp in case of dropping a stitch. She prepared
+the medicine for Malleville by mixing it properly with water in a little
+cup, and put it upon the stand, so that it should be all ready to be
+administered when the time should come, and then sat down upon the sofa,
+next to the sofa cushions, which were upon the end of the sofa, between
+herself and the light.</p>
+
+<p>Things went on very well for almost half an hour, but then Hepzibah,
+being pretty tired in consequence of her long day's work, and of her
+want of rest the night before, began to grow sleepy. Twice her
+knitting-work dropped out of her hands. The dropping of the
+knitting-work waked her the first and second time that it occurred. But
+the third time it did not wake her. After falling half over and
+recovering herself two or three times, she at length sank down upon the
+cushions, with her head upon the uppermost of them, and there in a short
+time she was fast asleep.</p>
+
+<p>She remained in this condition for nearly two hours, Malleville in her
+bed sleeping all the time quietly too. When Malleville went to sleep,
+she did so resolving not to wake up for her medicine. She did not
+resolve not to <i>take</i> it, if any one else waked her up for it, but she
+determined not to wake up for it of her own accord. Whether this had any
+influence in prolonging her sleep it would be difficult to say. She did,
+however, sleep very soundly, and without changing her position at all,
+until a little after eleven o'clock, when she began to move her head and
+her arms a little, and presently she opened her eyes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She looked around the room and saw nobody. The light was burning, though
+rather dimly, and the fire had nearly gone out. She sat up in the bed,
+and after a few minutes' pause, she said in a gentle voice, as if
+speaking to herself:</p>
+
+<p>'I wish there was somebody here to give me a drink of water.' Then,
+after waiting for a moment, she added, 'but I can just as well get down
+and find it myself.'</p>
+
+<p>So saying, she climbed down from the bed, and put on her shoes and
+stockings, singing gently all the time, 'Peep! peep! chippeda dee!'</p>
+
+<p>This was all of Agnes's song that she could remember.</p>
+
+<p>She went toward the fire, wondering who had drawn out the sofa and what
+for, and on passing round before it, her wonder was changed into
+amazement at finding Hepzibah asleep upon it.</p>
+
+<p>'Why,' she exclaimed, in a very low and gentle tone, just above a
+whisper, 'here is Hepzibah. I suppose she is sitting up to watch with
+me. How tired she is.'</p>
+
+<p>She stood looking at Hepzibah a minute or two in silence, and then said,
+speaking in the same tone and manner as before:</p>
+
+<p>'She is not comfortable. I mean to put her feet upon the sofa.'</p>
+
+<p>So saying, Malleville stooped down, and clasping Hepzibah's feet with
+both her arms, she lifted them up as gently as she could, and put them
+upon the sofa. Hepzibah's sound sleep was not at all disturbed by this.
+In fact, her position being now much more easy than before, she sank
+away soon into a slumber deeper and more profound than ever.</p>
+
+<p>Malleville, finding that her first attempt to render Hepzibah a service
+was so successful, immediately began to feel a strong interest in taking
+care of her, and, observing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> that her feet were not very well covered as
+she lay upon the sofa, she thought it would be a good plan to go and
+find something to cover them up. So she went to a bureau which was
+standing in the room, and began to open one drawer after another, in
+search of a small blanket which was sometimes used for such a purpose.
+She found the blanket at length in the lowermost drawer of the bureau.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! here it is,' said she. 'I knew it was somewhere in this bureau.'</p>
+
+<p>Saying this, she took out the blanket, and carried it to the sofa, doing
+everything in as noiseless a manner as possible. She spread the blanket
+over Hepzibah's feet, tucking the edges under very gently and carefully
+all around.</p>
+
+<p>'Now,' said Malleville to herself, 'I will make up the fire a little, so
+that she shall not catch cold.'</p>
+
+<p>There were two sticks remaining of those which Beechnut had brought up,
+and they were lying upon the carpet by the side of the fire, near the
+rocking-chair in which Beechnut had rocked Malleville to sleep. The wood
+which had been put upon the fire had burned entirely down, nothing being
+left of them but a few brands in the corners. Malleville took up the two
+sticks, one after another, and laid them upon the andirons, one for a
+back-stick and the other for a fore-stick, as she had often seen Phonny
+do. She then brought up a little cricket in front of the andirons, and
+sitting down upon it there, she took the tongs and began to pick up the
+brands and coals, and to put them into the interstice which was left
+between the two sticks. She did all this in a very noiseless and gentle
+manner, so as not to disturb Hepzibah; and she stopped very frequently
+to look round and see if Hepzibah was still sleeping.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The air soon began to draw up through the coals which Malleville had
+placed between the sticks of wood, and thus fanning them, it brightened
+them into a glow. The brands began to smoke, and presently there
+appeared in one part a small flickering flame.</p>
+
+<p>'There!' said Malleville, in a tone of great satisfaction, 'it is
+burning. Phonny said that I could not make a fire, but I knew that I
+could.'</p>
+
+<p>Malleville had been very careful all the time not to allow her
+night-dress to get near the fire, and now, as the fire was beginning to
+burn, she thought that she must move still further away. She accordingly
+rose, and moved the cricket back. The fire burned more and more
+brightly, and Malleville observed that the light of it was flashing upon
+Hepzibah's face.</p>
+
+<p>'I must make a screen for her,' said she, 'or the flashes will wake her
+up.'</p>
+
+<p>So she went to the bureau again, and brought forth a shawl, one which
+she had often seen her aunt Henry use for this purpose. Then, putting a
+chair between the sofa and the fire, she spread the shawl upon the back
+of it, and found that it produced the effect of keeping the flashes of
+light from Hepzibah's face entirely to her satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>Malleville then began to wonder whether it was not time for her to take
+her medicine. She looked at the clock, to see if she could tell what
+o'clock it was. She could not, of course, for she had never learned to
+tell the time by the clock. Accordingly, after looking at the hands and
+figures a few minutes in silence, and listening to the ticking, she
+said:</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot tell what o'clock it is, but it looks pretty late. I have a
+great mind to take my medicine myself.'</p>
+
+<p>She then turned to the table, where the lamp and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> medicines were
+standing. The cup was there in which Hepzibah had prepared Malleville's
+medicine. Malleville took it up, looked at it, and stirred it a little
+with the spoon.</p>
+
+<p>'I wonder if this is my medicine,' said she. 'I have a great mind to
+take it. But, then perhaps, it is not my medicine. Perhaps it is
+poison.'</p>
+
+<p>So she put the cup down upon the table again, glad, in fact, of a
+plausible excuse for not taking the draught.</p>
+
+<p>'I'll sit down in this rocking-chair,' he said, 'and wait till Hepzibah
+wakes up. She will wake up pretty soon.'</p>
+
+<p>So she went to the rocking-chair and sat down. She began to rock herself
+to and fro, watching the little flames and the curling smoke that were
+ascending from the fire. She remained thus for nearly a quarter of an
+hour, and then she began to be a little tired.</p>
+
+<p>'What a long night!' said she. 'I did not know that nights were so long.
+I wish that Hepzibah would wake up. But I suppose she is very tired. I
+mean to go and look out of the window, and see if the morning is not
+coming. Beechnut said that we could always see it coming in the east, at
+the end of the night.'</p>
+
+<p>Malleville did not know which the east was, but she thought she would at
+any rate go and look out of the window. She accordingly went to the
+window, and pushing the curtains aside and opening the shutters, she
+looked out. She saw the moon in the sky, and several stars, but there
+were no appearances of morning.</p>
+
+<p>There was a bronze ink-stand upon the table near the window, and some
+pens upon it. The idea occurred to Malleville that perhaps she might
+write a little while, to occupy the time till Hepzibah should wake up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'If I only had some paper,' said she, 'I would write a letter to Agnes.'</p>
+
+<p>Malleville carried the lamp now to the table by the window, and taking
+great care to put it down in a place where it would not be at all in
+danger of setting fire to the curtain, she took the pen and began her
+writing. She worked patiently upon the task for half an hour. The letter
+was then completed. Of course, it is impossible to give any idea in a
+printed book of the appearance of the writing, but the letter itself, as
+Malleville intended to express it, was as follows:</p>
+
+
+<p class="right"><i>Wednesday, midnight.</i></p>
+
+<p>'<span class="smcap">Dear Agnes,</span></p>
+
+<p>'I like you because Beechnut says you like me. Please to answer this
+letter.</p>
+
+
+<p class="right">'Your affectionate friend,<br />
+
+M.</p>
+
+
+<p>Malleville only wrote M. instead of her whole name, Malleville, at the
+bottom of her letter, because, just as she was finishing her work, the
+lamp began to burn very dim. She was afraid that it was going out. So
+she stopped with the M., saying to herself that Agnes would know who it
+was from, and, besides, if she did not, Beechnut could tell her when he
+gave it to her. She folded the note and slipped it into the envelope,
+and then, hastily wetting a wafer, which she found in a small
+compartment in the centre of the bronze ink-stand, she put it in its
+place, and pressed down the flap of the envelope upon it. She then took
+the lamp and went to find a pin to prick up the wick a little, to keep
+it from going out.</p>
+
+<p>She could not find any pin, and the lamp burned more and more dimly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I must go downstairs and find another lamp,' said Malleville, 'or else
+Hepzibah will be left all in the dark.'</p>
+
+<p>She turned and looked towards Hepzibah a moment as she said this, and
+then added, 'Poor Hepzibah! How tired she must be to sleep so long.'</p>
+
+<p>She then took the lamp and walked softly out of the room. The stairs
+creaked a little as she descended, though she stepped as carefully as
+she could. When she reached the kitchen door, she found it shut. She
+opened it and went in.</p>
+
+<p>The kitchen was pretty warm, as there had been a fire in it all the day,
+although the fire was now all covered up in the ashes. The andirons were
+standing one across the other upon the hearth, idle and useless.
+Malleville looked about the room for a lamp, but she did not see any.
+The kitchen was in perfect order, everything being put properly away in
+its place.</p>
+
+<p>'I will look into the closets,' said Malleville.</p>
+
+<p>So she opened a closet door and looked in. There were various articles
+on the shelves, but no lamps. She then shut this door, and opened
+another closet door at the back of the room. Here Malleville found four
+lamps standing in a row upon the second shelf. She was very much pleased
+to see them. She took one of them down and carried it to the kitchen
+table, and then lighted it by means of a lamp-lighter, which she
+obtained from a lamp-lighter case hanging up by the side of the
+fireplace. She then blew out her own lamp, and carrying it into the
+closet, she put it up upon the shelf in the place of the one which she
+had taken away.</p>
+
+<p>On the lower shelf Malleville saw, much to her satisfaction, a plate of
+bread with some butter by the side of it. There was a little pitcher
+near, too, and Malleville, on looking into it, found that it was half
+full of milk.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I am very glad that I have found this,' said she, 'for now I can have
+some supper. I wanted something, and I could not tell what. I know now.
+I was hungry.'</p>
+
+<p>She brought out the bread and butter and the milk to the kitchen table,
+and then drawing up a chair, she began to eat her supper, feeling a most
+excellent appetite.</p>
+
+<p>She went on very prosperously for a time, having eaten two slices of
+bread and drank nearly all the milk, when suddenly her attention was
+arrested by a movement at the head of the kitchen stairs. These stairs
+ascended from very near the door where Malleville had entered the
+kitchen, and as Malleville had left the door open, the light from her
+lamp shone out into the entry, and she could also, while in the kitchen,
+hear any sound upon the stairs. The sound which attracted her attention
+was like that of a person opening a door and coming out. Malleville
+immediately stopped drinking from her pitcher and listened.</p>
+
+<p>'Who is that down in the kitchen?' said a voice. Malleville immediately
+recognised the voice as that of Beechnut.</p>
+
+<p>'I,' said Malleville.</p>
+
+<p>'I?' repeated Beechnut. 'Who do you mean? Is it Malleville.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' replied Malleville.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, Malleville,' exclaimed Beechnut, in a tone of profound
+astonishment, 'what are you doing in the kitchen?'</p>
+
+<p>'I am eating some supper,' said Malleville.</p>
+
+<p>'But, Malleville,' exclaimed Beechnut, 'you ought not to be down there
+eating supper at this time of night. How came you to go down?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I came down,' replied Malleville, 'to get a lamp for Hepzibah.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'For Hepzibah!' repeated Beechnut. 'Did she send you down there for a
+lamp?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, no,' said Malleville, 'I came myself.'</p>
+
+<p>'Where is Hepzibah?' asked Beechnut.</p>
+
+<p>'She is asleep,' said Malleville, 'and you must not speak so loud or you
+will wake her up.'</p>
+
+<p>Malleville could now hear Beechnut laughing most immoderately, though
+evidently making great efforts to suppress the sound of his laughter.
+Presently he regained his composure in a sufficient degree to speak, and
+Malleville heard his voice again, calling:</p>
+
+<p>'Malleville!'</p>
+
+<p>'What?' said Malleville.</p>
+
+<p>'Have you nearly finished your supper?' asked Beechnut.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' replied Malleville. 'I have only got a little more milk to
+drink.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well,' said Beechnut, 'when you have drank your milk, you had better go
+directly back to your room again, and get into bed and go to sleep.'</p>
+
+<p>'And what shall I do with Hepzibah?' said Malleville.</p>
+
+<p>'Where is Hepzibah?' asked Beechnut. 'Is she asleep in your room?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' replied Malleville.</p>
+
+<p>'On the sofa?' asked Beechnut.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' replied Malleville.</p>
+
+<p>'Then leave her where she is,' replied Beechnut, 'and go to bed and go
+to sleep. If you do not get to sleep in half an hour, ring your bell,
+and I will dress myself, and come and see what to do.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well,' said Malleville, 'I will.' So, taking her new lamp, she went
+upstairs again to her room. Hepzibah was sleeping as soundly as ever.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Malleville, in obedience to Beechnut's directions, after putting her
+lamp upon the stand, went directly to her bed and lay down. She shut her
+eyes to try to go to sleep, thinking of Beechnut's injunction to ring
+the bell if she did not get to sleep in half an hour, and wondering how
+she was to determine when the half hour would be ended. Long, however,
+before she had decided this perplexing question, she was fast asleep.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning Hepzibah awoke at half-past five, which was her usual
+time of rising. She started up, amazed to find that it was morning, and
+that she had been asleep all night upon the sofa in Malleville's room.
+Her amazement was increased at finding her feet enveloped in a blanket,
+and a screen placed carefully between her face and the remains of the
+fire. She went hastily to Malleville's bedside, and finding that the
+little patient was there safe and well, she ran off to her own room,
+hoping that Phonny and Beechnut would never hear the story of her
+watching, and tell it to the men; for if they did, the men, she said to
+herself, would tease her almost to death about it.</p>
+
+<p>When the doctor came the next morning, and they told him about
+Malleville's supper, he laughed very heartily, and said that food was
+better for convalescents than physic after all, and that, though
+patients often made very sad mistakes in taking their case into their
+own hands, yet he must admit that it proved sometimes that they could
+prescribe for themselves better than the doctor.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span></p>
+<h2>The Life and Adventures of Lady Anne</h2>
+
+
+<h3>Chapter I</h3>
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i318dc.jpg" width="141" height="150" alt="O" class="cap" />
+
+
+<p class="cap_2">Of the first years of my life I have but a slight recollection, as I
+suddenly lost my mother by death, and was placed under the care of
+strangers soon after I had completed my fifth year. What passed before
+that time is like the faint remembrance of a long past dream, but it
+seemed to myself that I had lived among ladies and gentlemen&mdash;had been
+used to ride in a carriage, to be waited on by servants, who called me
+Lady Anne, and to be fondled by a lady and gentleman, who called me
+Annie, and their little darling, and whom I called father and mother.
+These pleasing visions seemed suddenly to pass away. I no longer saw my
+father, nor the ladies and gentlemen; we were no longer living in a
+large house; our servants were gone, and mother was almost always in
+tears. Then, all of a sudden, we were riding alone in a post-chaise;
+night came on, and we stopped at a house. There mother was very ill, and
+laid in bed, and did not speak to me for several days, and a great many
+people<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> came and talked to her, but she did not answer any of them. At
+last I thought she was asleep, for her eyes were shut, and her hands
+were quite cold; then I wanted to get upon the bed that I might sit
+beside her, but the strange people that were there carried me out of the
+room, and teazed me with questions that I did not understand, or, if I
+had understood them, could not have answered for crying. After this two
+men came and put my mother into a large black box, and took her away.</p></div>
+
+<p>These are painful remembrances, so sad and so painful that, at this
+distance of time, I cannot think of them without weeping.</p>
+
+<p>What passed immediately after this I cannot remember, for I have been
+told that I had a violent fever, and was ill for a long time. Of all
+these things I have but a confused remembrance, yet I do remember them;
+but the time from which I can clearly recollect is from when I was about
+six years old, and from that period I remember every material
+circumstance of my life as clearly as if I had written them all down as
+they happened. I will now continue my narrative at the time from which I
+can correctly remember. I then found myself living in a large cottage
+with nearly twenty other children. We were under the care of an elderly
+woman, whom we called nurse. This house, I was told, when I was old
+enough to understand the meaning of the expression, was the place where
+the infant paupers, or poor children of the parish, were kept. Of our
+treatment there I have no cause to complain. We were well washed every
+morning, and our clothes were kept clean and tidy; our food was coarse
+and rather scanty, so that we always had a good appetite, yet we had
+sufficient to keep us in a good state of health, and the farmers' wives
+and cottage people who lived near would often give us pieces of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> bread
+and a little milk, so that, as I said before, we had no cause for
+complaint. Our nurse taught us reading and sewing, and, as she was
+rather a good-natured woman, she would frequently converse with us, if
+the prattle of children can be called conversation, and answer our
+little questions.</p>
+
+<p>I must here make a digression to inform my young readers that, though I
+was a poor child, a mere pauper among a number of others who were not
+any poorer than myself, yet I was always treated with a great deal of
+respect both by the nurse and the other children. I was always called
+Lady Anne, and in all our little plays my companions would choose me to
+be a lady or their queen. Then I would, in a language which seemed
+natural to me, order the carriage for an airing, or propose a saunter in
+the park, or perhaps say we would go to the opera in the evening. The
+girls whom I admitted to the honour of visiting me I would address as
+ladies, and tell some of the others to come and say that 'Her ladyship's
+carriage was waiting,' or that 'Lady Sally's carriage stopped the way.'
+It was on one of these occasions that my nurse said to me:</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, Lady Anne, it is a thousand pities that you are not among the lords
+and ladies you are so often talking about. It was an unlucky chance that
+brought you here, for, poor child, with us you are like a fish out of
+water.'</p>
+
+<p>'What was it that brought me here?' said I. 'How did I come?'</p>
+
+<p>'It is a long story to tell you,' replied she, 'but, as it is about
+yourself, you will not be tired of hearing it; so come, children, get
+your knitting and sit down, and you shall hear how Lady Anne came to
+live among us.'</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes we all had our knitting, and seated ourselves so as to
+form a semi- or half-circle round the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> good woman. Curiosity and
+expectation were painted in every countenance, myself the most curious
+and anxious of the whole group, for I often, in my own mind, wondered
+how it was that I no longer saw the gentlemen and ladies who it seemed
+to myself I had been in the habit of seeing, and where my father could
+be gone to, and why everything about me was so different to what it had
+once been. Our nurse having examined our work, and directed us how to go
+on with it, began her little narrative in the following manner:</p>
+
+<p>'It will be two years on the twelfth of next November since one cold,
+wet evening, about eight o'clock, a lady, with a little girl that seemed
+about five years old, stopped at the Falcon Inn at E&mdash;&mdash;. That lady was
+your mother, and that little girl was you, Lady Anne. Well, the chaise
+stopped, and your mother got out, and desired to be shown to a bedroom,
+and ordered tea, and tired and ill the landlady said she looked, but she
+did not know how very ill she really was. Well, after tea she put you to
+bed, and prepared to go herself, and she told the chambermaid to call
+her next morning at eight o'clock, for that, after breakfast, she
+intended to continue her journey. She ordered breakfast too, but, poor
+lady, when the morning came she was in a high fever.</p>
+
+<p>'The good woman of the inn was terribly frightened, as you may suppose,
+at having a strange lady ill in her house, and not knowing whom she
+belonged to, nor whether she had money to pay her expenses, so she went
+to Mr. Sanders, our clergyman, to advise with him what was to be done.
+Then he went to the inn, and looked at your mother, and examined a
+little trunk, which was all the luggage she had. It contained just a
+change of linen for herself and you, and rather more than forty pounds
+in bank-notes and money, but no letters, nor any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> writing to tell who
+she was. The linen, both yours and your mother's, was marked A. M., and
+the trunk had the same letters in brass nails.</p>
+
+<p>'Then the clergyman asked you your name; you said it was Lady Anne. Then
+he asked you your father's and mother's, and you said it was my lord and
+my lady, and that was all the answer he could get from you, for you did
+not know anything about a surname, and I must say I think it is a very
+foolish thing not to teach children their names and proper directions,
+for if you could have told yours, your friends would have been wrote to,
+and you would now have been with them, instead of being a poor little
+beggar in a workhouse; but I suppose, as your parents kept their
+carriage, they did not think there was any occasion that you should know
+your name and your direction; so much the worse for you.</p>
+
+<p>'But to go on with my story. When Mr. Sanders asked your age, you said
+you were five years old, and that was all he could learn from you. Well,
+your mother was very ill, and did not know anything they asked her; she
+did not even know you, though you sat on the bed, by her, and did all
+you could to make her notice you, but it was all of no use, your poor
+mother could not notice anything. Then a doctor was sent for, and as
+soon as he came he said that the lady would die, but that he would do
+all in his power to save her, and so, I believe, he did, but it was all
+in vain, for on the third evening your mother died. The parish buried
+her very decently, for Mr. Sanders said that, as she had left money, she
+should not be buried like a pauper, and he would have taken you home and
+brought you up, but Madam Sanders said they had a large family of their
+own, and could not be burdened with other people's children, so you were
+sent to me, and I took all the care of you I could, for you had a bad
+fever, and were ill for a long time, and used to talk about lords and
+ladies, and would often say, if the earl would but forgive your father
+and mother you should all be very happy. When you grew better I asked
+you what earl you had been talking about, but you neither knew his name,
+nor what had been done to offend him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 410px;">
+<img src="images/i323.jpg" width="410" height="600" alt="The arrival at the inn.&mdash;Page 323." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>The arrival at the inn.&mdash;Page 323.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Mr. Sanders drew up an advertisement that was put into several
+newspapers, describing your mother and you, and telling of her coming to
+E&mdash;&mdash;, and of her death, and begging her friends to come and take away
+the child, or it must otherwise be sent to the parish poor-house; but
+nobody ever sent or came, and the churchwardens would not allow any more
+money to be spent upon advertisements, for they said they must keep what
+was left to pay them for their care of you, as you were left upon their
+hands, and many people said they thought that you and your mother were
+only sham ladies, and that there was some trick in it, but, for my part,
+I always said that you and your mother were real ladies, and so thinks
+Mr. Sanders, for he says he does not know what trick there could be in a
+lady being taken ill and dying. He says he hopes to see the day when you
+will be restored to your friends, and he keeps the little trunk that
+your mother had, and the picture of a gentleman that she wore hung from
+her neck, and two rings; one, I suppose, was her wedding ring, the other
+is a very handsome one, and has hair in it and letters, and a great many
+little pearls, and the clergyman says it is worth a great deal of money,
+and that no sham lady could have such a handsome ring, and, besides all
+that, he keeps the clothes that you and your mother wore, that in case
+you should ever meet with your relations all these things may prove you
+are the same child that was lost, and not an impostor.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>Chapter II</h3>
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i325dc.jpg" width="155" height="150" alt="Y" class="cap" />
+
+<p class="cap_2">Young as I was this relation of my nurse made me weep very much; it
+brought to my memory things which I had long thought must have been
+dreams. I well remembered my father's picture; I had seen my mother weep
+over it, press it to her lips, and address it by the name of her dear
+Frederick. I earnestly entreated the nurse to take me to the
+clergyman's, that I might once more have the pleasure of seeing it. She
+told me to have patience till Sunday, and that when service was over she
+would speak to him about it. I submitted to this delay without a murmur,
+and the following Sunday, when service was over, as he was walking
+through the churchyard, nurse went up to him and told him my request.</p></div>
+
+<p>'Ah,' said he, looking at the little troop of children that followed the
+nurse, and immediately fixing his eyes upon me, 'I suppose this is the
+little lady. What is your name, my dear?'</p>
+
+<p>'Lady Anne, sir,' replied I, curtseying very low. I must here observe
+that I did not know that lady was a title, but thought it was as much a
+part of my name as Anne.</p>
+
+<p>'What, still Lady Anne?' said he. 'You are determined not to lose your
+title. Well, my little lady, come home with me and I will show you your
+father's picture.'</p>
+
+<p>We then followed the clergyman to his house. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> children were told to
+stay in the garden, with strict orders not to touch anything, and nurse
+and I were permitted the honour of entering the study. Mr. Sanders then,
+opening the drawer of a cabinet, took out the miniature portrait of a
+young and handsome gentleman dressed in regimentals. I no sooner beheld
+it than a thousand recollections seemed to rush upon my mind. I caught
+it from his hand, pressed it to my lips, and bursting into a flood of
+tears, exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>'It is my father's picture. My own, my dear father. Oh, if I could but
+see him! Where is he gone to? Do you know where he is gone to?'</p>
+
+<p>'Be calm, my dear child,' said the good man, taking me in his arms. 'We
+do not know where your father is, or we would write to him. If you could
+tell us his name, we might find him out. Do you not remember any name
+they used to call your father?'</p>
+
+<p>'They used to call father my lord; and mother my lady, and they called
+me Lady Anne,' said I.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! that is the old story, we know it already,' replied the clergyman
+with a sigh; 'but who, my dear, was the earl? Can you not recollect his
+name? Try if you cannot remember.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not know his name,' replied I, 'but he came one day and was very
+angry, and made mother cry, and then she fell on the floor and I
+screamed, and then the Earl was more angry and stamped, and I screamed
+with all my might, and the Earl rang the bell and went away in a great
+passion, and then Sally&mdash;yes, it was Sally&mdash;came to mother.'</p>
+
+<p>'Where was your father, then, my dear?'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not know, father was gone, and I have never seen him since.'</p>
+
+<p>The good clergyman asked me many more questions,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> to try if he could
+discover who my friends were; but, as I unfortunately could not tell
+either my own name, or that of any of the great people who had visited
+us, his enquiries were fruitless, and he closed the conversation by
+observing, 'that it was a great pity I had not been taught my own name
+and address.'</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>[<i>Lady Anne was then taken to an orphan home, where she was treated very
+harshly by Mrs. Dawson, the matron. Great fun was made of her grand
+name.</i>]</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>At last a man and his wife, who had come down from London on a visit to
+a relation of theirs in the town, having heard of me, came to the school
+to make their inquiries. I was accordingly ordered to stand up, that
+they might satisfy their curiosity with gazing at me, while Mrs. Dawson
+began to boast of all the good qualities I possessed, and some to which
+I had no claim.</p>
+
+<p>'She is a very delicate looking child,' said the woman from London; 'she
+looks more like a gentleman's daughter than a parish girl.'</p>
+
+<p>'She is straight, and tall of her age, ma'am,' replied Mrs. Dawson, 'and
+that gives her a genteelish look; but I assure you she is as strong as a
+little horse. She will wash and scour with any girl of her age; and, as
+for her needle, there is not a girl in the school can work as well. Show
+your work, Lady Anne.'</p>
+
+<p>'Lady Anne!' repeated the Londoner, as she took my work into her hand,
+'that is a strange name. What do you call her so for?'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Dawson ran over my story to her as briefly as she could. The two
+Londoners found it very diverting, and laughed heartily, while the tears
+stood in my eyes as I thought of my dear parents, one in the grave, and
+the other I might never see again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Well, wife,' said the man, when he had laughed till he was weary,
+'suppose we take this young lady on trial for a month; the good woman
+speaks of her very well; we can but see what she can do, and, if we find
+her strong enough for our place, it will be a rare piece of luck for us
+to have an earl's daughter for our servant. What say you, aye or nay?'</p>
+
+<p>'I have no objection to try her,' replied the wife. 'She sews very well,
+and that is the greatest object with us.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very well, then,' returned the husband. 'Let us away to the overseers,
+and settle with them about taking her upon trial, for I will not have
+her as an apprentice till we know what she can do.'</p>
+
+<p>They then went away, and, in about two hours, the one that I called the
+good-natured overseer came to tell Mrs. Dawson to have me in readiness
+to go to London on the morning after the morrow with my new master and
+mistress.</p>
+
+<p>'And I hope, child,' said he, addressing me, 'that you will do all you
+can to please them, for I give you my word for it, that if you are sent
+back to us we shall send you to the Bridewell, where you will be kept to
+hard labour, and be whipped every day; so now you know what you have to
+trust to.'</p>
+
+<p>I assured him very sincerely that I would do to the utmost of my power
+to please my master and mistress; and then I very humbly entreated his
+permission to allow me to go the next day to pay a farewell visit to Mr.
+Sanders and my nurse, Jenkins.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, child, you shall go. And mind, Dawson, that you let her go early,
+that she may find Mr. Sanders at home, for he made me promise that we
+would not send her away without first letting her call upon him.
+Good-bye, child, there is a penny for you to spend, and if you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> are a
+good girl you shall have a shilling for yourself when you are bound
+apprentice.'</p>
+
+<p>I curtsied, thanked him, and renewed my promises of good behaviour. He
+then went away, and Mrs. Dawson told me to sit down to my work, for that
+too much time had been lost in talking.</p>
+
+
+<h3>Chapter III</h3>
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i329dc.jpg" width="144" height="150" alt="T" class="cap" />
+
+<p class="cap_2">The next morning I arose before it was well light. It was a cold morning
+in the month of February, and the snow was lying upon the ground; but my
+heart felt so light at the thought of escaping from the ill-temper of
+Mrs. Dawson, and the hope of being more comfortable, that everything
+appeared cheerful and pleasant. I made what haste I could to get my
+morning work done, and, having breakfasted, set off about nine o'clock
+on my little journey. The distance from the workhouse to Mr. Sanders's
+was rather more than two miles; but the sun was now shining, and the
+road hard and dry, and I tripped along so lightly that I was therein a
+little more than half an hour.</p></div>
+
+<p>'Good-morning to you, my dear,' said the kind gentleman when he saw me;
+'you seem in excellent spirits. Have you got a place?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, sir,' I replied. 'I am to go to London to-morrow, and then, I
+hope, I shall find my father soon.'</p>
+
+<p>'My poor child, I wish you may,' answered he; 'but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> do not raise your
+expectations too high, for fear you should be disappointed. What sort of
+people are you to be with, and what is it you are to do?'</p>
+
+<p>I then related all that had passed the preceding day between Mrs. Dawson
+and the strangers.</p>
+
+<p>'Well,' said Mr. Sanders, 'I will call this evening upon the overseers,
+and hear what they say of these people. I hope they are respectable, and
+will be kind to you; and, my dear child, pray remember my advice, be
+honest and obliging; do not let any temptation lead you to take what is
+not your own; and never give a saucy answer, even though you should be
+found fault with unjustly. Will you think of my advice, and act by it?'</p>
+
+<p>'I will, indeed I will,' replied I. 'And now, sir, if you please, let me
+once more look at my father's picture, for, you know, when I am in
+London, I cannot come to you then to look at it.'</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Sanders, taking it from the drawer, gave it into my hand. I gazed at
+it, pressed it to my lips, and wept over it; and, at last, when Mr.
+Sanders desired me to give it him back, I begged of him to let me take
+it with me to London.</p>
+
+<p>'If you take it to London,' said he, 'you may, perhaps, lose it, or it
+may be taken from you. The picture is valuable on account of the gold
+and pearls about it, and may tempt bad people to steal it. You had much
+better leave it with me.'</p>
+
+<p>'I will hide it so securely,' replied I, 'that nobody shall ever see it,
+or know that I have it.'</p>
+
+<p>'How can you hide it, my dear?'</p>
+
+<p>'I will hide it in my bosom; but I am going to Nurse Jenkins, and she
+will fasten it inside my stays, so that it cannot be seen, and people
+will not think that I have a picture. Do, pray, sir, let me have it.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Well,' said Mr. Sanders, after a little pause, in which he seemed to
+consider whether it would be safe to grant my request or not; 'I will
+entrust it to your care, but be sure never to let it be seen, nor to
+tell anyone that you have such a picture in your possession.'</p>
+
+<p>Most fervently I promised to take every possible care of this beloved
+portrait, and was about to take my leave when Mr. Sanders said:</p>
+
+<p>'Stay, my dear, here is sixpence for you.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, thank you, sir,' said I. 'I have the sixpence you gave me when I
+left my nurse.'</p>
+
+<p>'What! have you not spent that yet?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>'And why not, pray?'</p>
+
+<p>'Because you gave it to me, sir, I shall never spend it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then you are keeping it for my sake, I suppose. Well, do so, my dear,
+but take this sixpence, and mind you spend it.'</p>
+
+<p>I took it with a curtsey, and tried to say 'Good-bye,' but the words
+seemed to choke me, and I burst into tears. Mr. Sanders seemed much
+affected, and putting his handkerchief to his eyes, walked about the
+room for some minutes without speaking; then, again approaching me, he
+kissed my forehead.</p>
+
+<p>'Farewell, my dear child,' said he. 'I wish it was in my power to keep
+you, but I have a large family, and Mrs. Sanders is not willing that I
+should take you in addition, so farewell, we must part; be a good girl,
+and I hope we shall meet again in happier circumstances.'</p>
+
+<p>He then again kissed me, bestowed his benediction upon me, and led me to
+the gate. I sobbed out my farewell, and, with the tears streaming down
+my face, took my way to the humble dwelling of my nurse. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> had nearly
+two miles to walk before I reached her cottage. At first I went along
+with a slow and deliberate step, thinking upon my parting with Mr.
+Sanders, and comparing my lot with that of children who had fathers and
+mothers, and weeping at my own destitute situation; for, even among the
+children who were in the workhouse, there was not one excepting myself
+who had not relations who came occasionally to see them, and to whom
+they looked up for some sort of protection, while I was a poor little
+outcast in society, not knowing one creature in the whole world to whom
+I could say I was related. Mr. Sanders and my nurse were the only
+persons who seemed to care anything about me; and even these, my only
+friends, I must leave, and go and live among strangers. These thoughts
+made me very melancholy, and, though this second part of my journey was
+the shortest, yet I was nearly an hour in walking it. At last I saw the
+cottage, and, quickening my pace, I arrived there tired and out of
+spirits.</p>
+
+<p>The good woman received me kindly, and placing me near the fire, gave me
+a basin of broth, with plenty of bread in it. After I had taken this
+refreshment, which I greatly needed, she began asking me a variety of
+questions, and by degrees I gave her the history of all that had
+happened to me from the time I had left her house, for since that time I
+had never had an opportunity of saying more to her than a few words when
+we happened to meet at the church.</p>
+
+<p>'Poor child,' said she, when I concluded, 'I was afraid you would not be
+comfortable, for Mrs. Dawson is a woman of a very bad temper; but she
+does make the girls good servants, that nobody can deny, and that, I
+suppose, is the reason she keeps her place; however, your time is over
+with her now, so never mind what is past,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span> but look forward to what is
+to come. What sort of people are you going to live with?'</p>
+
+<p>'I hardly know,' replied I; 'but their name is Smith, and they live in a
+place called the Borough.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you know what their trade is?'</p>
+
+<p>'They sell umbrellas and shoes, and I am to learn to make the umbrellas,
+and that is all I know about them.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, my dear, I hope that you will be able to do for them, and that
+they will be kind to you, and you must trust to Providence for the
+discovery of your friends.'</p>
+
+<p>I then drew my father's picture from my bosom, and asked her if she
+would fasten it into my stays in such a way that I could wear it without
+its being seen.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, my dear,' said she, 'that I will, and you must mind how I do it,
+that, when you have a new pair of stays, you may be able to fasten it
+into them in the same manner.'</p>
+
+<p>My stays were then taken off, and the portrait fastened inside of them;
+a piece of flannel was then sewed over it, which, being left loose at
+one corner, I could, when I had them off, raise it up, and take a view
+of the dear likeness. The first sixpence that Mr. Sanders gave me I had
+fastened in also, for I was determined never to part with it. This being
+done I produced the sixpence he had given me that morning, and the penny
+given me by the overseer, and begged the nurse to accept of them.</p>
+
+<p>'No, my dear,' said she, 'I will not take them from you; keep them
+yourself, you do not know what you may want when you are in London. You
+will not then have anybody to give you a halfpenny should you need it.'</p>
+
+<p>'I will not keep it,' replied I. 'Mr. Sanders told me to spend it, and
+if you will not take it I shall leave it upon the table.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Well,' said she, 'if it must be spent, I will go and lay it out in tea
+and sugar, and give you all a treat, for I suppose you have not tasted
+any tea since you have been with Mrs. Dawson.'</p>
+
+<p>'No,' said I, 'not a single drop. How glad I am that you have thought of
+letting us have tea.'</p>
+
+<p>My young readers who, perhaps, have tea every day, cannot imagine what a
+luxury a little of it is to a poor workhouse child, who never tastes it
+but when she is allowed to go out and see her friends. Children in
+workhouses have bread and cheese and small-beer about seven o'clock,
+which serves them for tea and supper, and I, as I had no friends to go
+and see, had not once tasted tea since I left my nurse's, who was a
+good-natured woman, and always gave us tea on Sunday evenings&mdash;weak,
+indeed, but we thought it delicious; on other evenings we had
+milk-and-water and bread-and-butter.</p>
+
+<p>My nurse soon came back with her purchase. The large kettle was set on
+the fire, the great brown loaf was brought out, and nurse began cutting
+slices of bread-and-butter for us.</p>
+
+<p>The children were so delighted at the thoughts of the treat they were to
+have that they began dancing about the floor, and I, forgetting my late
+sorrow, joined in their sports. When the repast was quite ready we took
+our places, some at the table, and some on the benches, as we could find
+room. Nurse gave each of us a little basin of tea and a good slice of
+bread-and-butter, and I think I may say that the whole body of aldermen
+dining at the Lord Mayor's feast never ate their meal with half the zest
+that we felt in sipping our homely tea, and eating our brown bread.</p>
+
+<p>Soon after the tea was over nurse proposed my returning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> home, as the
+days were short, and as she did not wish me to be out after it was dark.
+I felt a pang at the idea of so soon parting with my good nurse, but
+without replying I immediately put on my bonnet and cloak. Nurse and the
+children accompanied me a full mile on my way home, and then we parted
+with tears on both sides.</p>
+
+
+<h3>Chapter IV</h3>
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i335dc.jpg" width="146" height="150" alt="I" class="cap" />
+
+
+<p class="cap_2">It was a very fine morning, the sun shone brightly, the fields, hedges,
+and trees were covered with snow, which, as the air was very cold, did
+not melt, but sparkled and glittered most beautifully. I gazed with much
+pleasure on the scenery as we passed along, and should have been
+cheerful, but I was with strangers, who took very little notice of me,
+scarcely speaking to me the whole day, so that I could not help feeling
+sorrowful, and sometimes even wished myself back again with Mrs. Dawson.</p></div>
+
+<p>About seven o'clock in the evening we stopped at a small shop in one of
+the cross streets in the Borough. There I was told that we were at home.
+We entered, and I gave a curious and somewhat fearful glance round the
+place. The shop was set out partly with umbrellas and partly with shoes,
+but everything seemed dirty and in confusion. Shoe-lasts,
+umbrella-sticks, and a large quantity of whalebone, were lying in heaps
+about the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> floor, while in one corner stood a large pan of dirty water
+in which they soaked the leather, and which, not being often changed,
+sent forth a most unpleasant smell; the floor did not appear as if it
+was swept once in a month. We entered the parlour, which was in the same
+state of dirt and confusion as the shop. Three dirty children, whose
+ages I was afterwards told were thirteen, eleven, and nine, came to meet
+their parents. Their frocks were dirty and ragged, their stockings with
+holes in them, their shoes slipped down at the heel, while they wore
+strings of coloured beads round their necks, that did not seem as if
+they were washed oftener than once a month. They were clamouring round
+their parents to know what they had brought them from the country, and
+who I was.</p>
+
+<p>Their father gave them a basket with cakes and fruit in it, and told
+them to take that, and ask him no questions till he was at leisure to
+answer them. The master's sister, who had taken charge of the house
+during his absence, was dressed much in the same style as the children,
+her stockings being dirty and with holes in them, her gown unripped in
+several places at the seams, and on her head a dirty cap, with a fine
+lace border and ornamented with pink ribbon. The room and furniture were
+in the same untidy condition, and as I looked around me I could not but
+fear that my situation in this house would be very uncomfortable.</p>
+
+<p>We were all of us both tired and cold. The sister made tea, of which
+Mrs. Smith gave me a good basinful, and a thick slice of
+bread-and-butter. They then began talking among themselves, and me and
+my little history was the subject of their conversation. They were all
+much amused at my being called Lady Anne. Mrs. Smith declared that she
+would either call me Anne or Nancy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> and Mr. Smith insisted that I
+should have my full title.</p>
+
+<p>'I tell you what, husband,' said she, 'you may call her what you please,
+but I shall call her Nanny.'</p>
+
+<p>'And I tell you what, wife,' returned he, 'I shall call her Lady Anne,
+and so shall the children, or I'll strap them well, and you ought to
+call her so. Who knows but that girl may be the means of making our
+fortune? If she really is an earl's daughter, her father may come into
+our shop some day to look at an umbrella or a pair of shoes, and when he
+hears us call her Lady Anne he will, of course, inquire the reason; then
+we shall tell him her history, he'll make us a present&mdash;a handsome one,
+too&mdash;not less than a thousand pounds, I should think, or, if it is not a
+handsome one, I'll send him in a swinging bill for her keep, so that I
+will have it one way or another.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, you know that we must keep her,' replied his wife; 'she is our
+servant, and will soon be our 'prentice, if she can do our work.'</p>
+
+<p>'You know nothing about it,' returned her husband. 'If she is bound to
+us, we shall be bound to keep her; but if she is not, whenever we find
+her father we can send him in a good bill for her keep, and make him pay
+it too, that is my opinion of the matter.'</p>
+
+<p>'And so,' answered his wife, 'for the sake of this fine dream you mean
+to lose the 'prentice fees, do you?'</p>
+
+<p>'Aye, do I,' replied he, 'and you'll thank me for it too, when his
+earlship gives me the thousand pounds.'</p>
+
+<p>'And in the meantime,' asked his wife, 'what is to be done with her
+ladyship? Is she to be kept for looking at?'</p>
+
+<p>'You may look at her as much as you please,' answered her husband, 'but,
+as she will eat, so she must work or starve, and now give me a glass of
+gin and water, for tea<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> is not worth drinking, and I have talked till my
+throat is dry.'</p>
+
+<p>His wile brought out and mixed the liquor, repeating to herself: 'And so
+for this fine castle in the air we are to lose the 'prentice fees.'</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Smith now had a pipe, and sat smoking and drinking, his wife and
+sister talked on indifferent subjects, and the children amused
+themselves by repeatedly coming to me, and saying, 'How do you do, Lady
+Anne? I hope you are very well,' and the like idle expressions. Their
+father laughed, and said they had learned their lesson already, but
+their mother, who was vexed at losing the apprentice fees, after some
+little time told them to be quiet, or she would send them to bed. This
+command released me from their silly questions; they got different
+playthings, and seated themselves on the floor near the fire, while I
+sat on a stool on a distant part of the room, but glad at any rate to be
+free from their questions.</p>
+
+<p>At length nine o'clock came. Mrs. Smith gave each of the children a
+slice of bread-and-butter, and I was in hopes she would have given me
+one too, but I was mistaken. After the children had taken their supper
+she said to me:</p>
+
+<p>'Now, Anne, you will go upstairs with us, and I will show you where you
+are to sleep. You must be up betimes in the morning, and let us see what
+you can do for your living; for, I assure you, we shall not keep you in
+idleness, though you are a lady.'</p>
+
+<p>Without reply, I followed them upstairs into a large back attic, which
+was in the same comfortless state as the shop and parlour. There was
+only one bed in the room, and it had neither curtains or posts: it had
+not been made that day at the least. Mrs. Smith merely laid it smooth,
+while the children took off their clothes,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> which they threw in heaps
+upon the floor, and then scrambled into bed, without either nightgown or
+night-cap. Mrs. Smith then looked round the room, and said:</p>
+
+<p>'I must now contrive a bed for you, child.'</p>
+
+<p>I looked round, too, but did not see anything that seemed to me likely
+to answer such a purpose. There were, indeed, several heaps of dirty old
+clothes, but they did not appear to me fit for anything but to burn, or
+to send away among the ashes. Mrs. Smith, however, approached one of
+them, and said:</p>
+
+<p>'Here, child, you may pick out plenty of clothes, and spread them upon
+the floor, and I will give you an old blanket to cover you: then, I
+think, you will do very well.'</p>
+
+<p>I went to the heap, and my heart heaved with sickness and disgust as I
+lifted up dirty old coats, trousers, waistcoats, and gowns. It seemed as
+if all the old clothes of the family for the last ten years had been
+collected into this room; and out of this mass of litter I was to make
+my bed. This was, indeed, heart-breaking to me, for all my life I had
+been accustomed to cleanliness, even when in the workhouse; for there,
+though we lived hard and slept hard, yet everything was clean.</p>
+
+<p>'What is the girl thinking about?' said Mrs. Smith angrily. 'Pick out a
+few things and make your bed. I cannot stand waiting upon you for half
+an hour.'</p>
+
+<p>I did not dare to answer, but picked out a few of the things that looked
+the least dirty, and spread them upon the floor. Mrs. Smith then went
+downstairs, and in a few minutes brought me up an old blanket, which she
+threw upon the floor, saying:</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot stay any longer; it is moonlight, and you must make your bed,
+and go to it as you can.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She then went away, and I was no sooner alone than, seating myself upon
+the floor, I wept most bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>'How unhappy I am!' thought I. 'Every change I make is for the worse.
+When I left my nurse I was worse off at the workhouse; and now I have
+left the workhouse I am worse off here; and my father&mdash;I shall never see
+him more, for he will never find me in such a dirty place as this.'</p>
+
+<p>Again I wept, but, being overpowered with sleep, I wrapped the blanket
+round me, and, laying myself upon the old clothes I had spread upon the
+floor, I was soon in a sound sleep.</p>
+
+<p>I was awakened the next morning at an early hour by Mr. Smith knocking
+at the room door, and telling me to make haste down and light the fire.
+This I did, and swept up the parlour, which I made look as tidy as I
+could. After breakfast, of which I had but a very scanty allowance, I
+was ordered into the shop, and Mr. Smith sat down, and began teaching me
+how to make the covers for umbrellas. The shop-door was open, and my
+hands were so cold that I could scarcely hold the needle; but I did as
+well as I was able, and worked till I was called to my dinner, which was
+not till the rest of the family had dined; then all the bits of fat and
+scraps that they did not like were scraped together into a plate for me,
+which, with a very small piece of meat in addition, and a few potatoes,
+was my dinner. Complaint was useless. I had no choice but to eat it or
+to go without. I then returned to my work till the family had taken
+their tea, when a small basinful was given to me, and one slice of
+bread-and-butter&mdash;not a slice all round the loaf, but half round it.
+After tea, Mr. Smith went out, and his wife and sister, with two other
+women that came in, spent the evening at cards. At nine o'clock the
+children<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> had their supper and went to bed. I was in hopes that I should
+be allowed to go, too, nine o'clock being the hour when we had been sent
+to bed at the workhouse. I accordingly folded up my work and went into
+the parlour.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, what do you want?' said Mrs. Smith.</p>
+
+<p>'If you please, ma'am, may I have my supper and go to bed?'</p>
+
+<p>'Supper and go to bed!' exclaimed she. 'Pretty talk for a workhouse
+girl! No, miss, you will have no supper. Three meals a day are enough
+for you, I should think; and as for bed, you will not go till your
+master comes home, and that will not be till twelve o'clock. So now, my
+lady, go and sit down to your work again.'</p>
+
+<p>I obeyed in silence, for, indeed, having no choice, I could not do
+otherwise; but, being overpowered with sleep, I soon nodded over my
+work. This Mrs. Smith observed, for, the upper half of the partition
+between the shop and parlour being of glass, she could see all that
+passed, and, seeing me nod, she came out, and shook and beat me till I
+was thoroughly awake. At ten o'clock the shop was shut up by Mrs. Smith
+and her sister, Mrs. Smith telling me that would be my work as soon as I
+was tall enough to put up the shutters. I still kept to my sewing,
+though two or three times I fell asleep over it, from which I was as
+roughly awakened as at the first. At length, to my great relief, twelve
+o'clock struck, the two visitors departed, and soon after Mr. Smith
+knocked at the door. As soon as he came in his wife began scolding him
+for spending his time and money at a public-house, and said that he
+would bring them all to the workhouse. He retorted by saying that she
+lost more money at cards than he spent at the public-house. They then
+quarrelled violently. Blows were given on both sides,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> when Mr. Smith,
+happening to see me, told me to be gone to bed, or he would knock me
+down. I did not require to be told twice, but, hastening from the room,
+groped my way upstairs (for I was not allowed any candle), where,
+rejoiced at having escaped from the confusion below, I wrapped the
+blanket round me, and, laying myself upon the heap of rubbish, soon fell
+asleep.</p>
+
+<p>The two succeeding days passed nearly as the one I have described. Then
+came Sunday, which, instead of being a day of rest, of worship of the
+great Giver of all good, and a day of innocent recreation, was, in this
+misguided family, a day of complete slavery, for I found that it was the
+only one in the whole week that was devoted to domestic business. The
+whole house was to be cleaned. The dishes, plates, and saucepans, which
+had been used over and over again without washing during the week, were
+now all to be washed. The knives were to be cleaned, the boots and shoes
+to be brushed and blacked, and all this it was expected I should do. I
+did the best I could, and kept on working from six o'clock in the
+morning till nine o'clock at night, without sitting down the whole time,
+except the few minutes when I took my three scanty meals; but now,
+overpowered with fatigue, I fainted away upon the floor.</p>
+
+<p>I believe I continued insensible for rather a long time, for, when I
+began to recover my hearing, I heard Mrs. Smith and the sister talking
+together very earnestly, and as if they were fearful of getting into
+trouble on my account. They were sprinkling me with water, and holding
+hartshorn for me to smell, at the same time conversing in the following
+manner:</p>
+
+<p>'I wish we had not taken this girl,' said Mrs. Smith. 'She has not
+strength to do our work. We cannot afford to keep her for nothing; and
+yet, if she dies, people will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> say that we killed her. How white she
+looks! I am afraid that she really is dead.'</p>
+
+<p>'Pour a little gin-and-water down her throat,' said the sister. 'If she
+has life in her, that will bring her to; and, to tell you my opinion of
+the matter, I think you half starve her, and overwork her besides. But
+get the gin, or she will be dead to all intents and purposes.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Smith, I suppose (for, though I could hear, I was still unable to
+open my eyes), mixed the liquor, and poured a little of it into my
+mouth. It acted like a cordial upon me, for I was soon able to open my
+eyes, and I found myself supported in the arms of the sister, and Mrs.
+Smith holding the liquor.</p>
+
+<p>'What is the matter with you, child?' said she. 'Are you subject to
+fits?'</p>
+
+<p>Unable to speak, I burst into tears.</p>
+
+<p>'Very well,' said she; 'you are better now. There, empty the cup, and I
+will give you some bread and cheese, and then you shall go to bed.'</p>
+
+<p>I did as I was desired, and, after I had eaten the bread and cheese, I
+staggered, partly from weakness and partly from the effects of the
+liquor I had taken, up into my room, where sleep soon made me forget all
+my sorrows.</p>
+
+<p>The weary week circled round, and the dreaded Sunday again appeared; but
+this day Mrs. Smith obliged the children to help a little in the work.
+What they did was but little, but to me every little was of consequence.
+She also allowed rather more victuals; and at eight o'clock in the
+evening she gave me a good slice of bread and cheese and a teacupful of
+porter, which strengthened me so much that I did all my work, and at ten
+o'clock was allowed to go to bed&mdash;my miserable bed, which at first I had
+beheld with so much disgust, was now the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> only place where I found any
+comfort, for there I was free from scolding and anger. There I slept
+soundly, there I generally forgot all my sorrow, and sometimes even
+dreamed that I had found my father.</p>
+
+
+<h3>Chapter V</h3>
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i344dc.jpg" width="155" height="150" alt="T" class="cap" />
+
+<p class="cap_2">The return of spring in some measure alleviated my sufferings, for, as
+the weather grew warmer, my hands and feet got better; but, to
+counterbalance this comfort, my quantity of work was increased; and, as
+the days lengthened, I was obliged to rise earlier, for during the three
+months in the middle of summer I rose every morning at four o'clock.
+Being allowed so short a time for rest occasioned me to be continually
+sleepy, so that I could not help sometimes falling asleep over my work,
+even during the day, and this was sure of being the means of my having a
+severe beating from either Mr. Smith or his wife. My health daily
+declined, and I was pleased that it did so, for I was in hopes that I
+should soon die, and be released from all my troubles. Thus passed away
+the summer and autumn. Winter approached. It was now the latter end of
+November, and the weather had set in extremely cold. A heavy fall of
+snow, with a sharp frost, was succeeded by a slight thaw, which made the
+streets worse to walk in than either a severe frost or completely wet,
+when one morning Mrs. Smith told me to take an apple-pie to the baker's.
+I took the pie and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> went as carefully as I could, that I might not fall,
+or get my feet wet, for my shoes were now so worn out that they did not
+keep my feet from the ground; but in crossing the main street in the
+borough, as I was trying to step over the gutter, which was choked up
+with snow and loose pieces of ice, my foot slipped, and down I fell. The
+pie went into the gutter, where the dish was smashed to pieces, and the
+paste, sugar, and apples mingled with the dirty water. At first I could
+not see, owing to the quantity of muddy water that had splashed up into
+my face; but, having cleared my eyes, I saw an old match-woman cramming
+the pie-crust into her basket, a crowd of ragged children were fishing
+the apples out of the gutter, and a number of men and women, who ought
+to have known better, were laughing at me.</p></div>
+
+<p>'Pray, ma'am,' said I to the match-woman, 'give me back the dough that I
+may take it home.'</p>
+
+<p>'La, child!' said she, 'what good can a bit of dirty pie-crust do you? I
+am sure your mistress would not use it, and when I have washed off the
+mud it will make me a little dumpling.'</p>
+
+<p>'Pray give it me back,' said I. 'Oh dear! what shall I do? I shall be so
+beat!'</p>
+
+<p>'Beat!' repeated a man, who at that moment came up and lifted me over
+the gutter on to the pavement, 'you will be killed. If I was in your
+place, I would run away. Depend upon it, if you go back, Mother Smith
+would beat you to death.'</p>
+
+<p>This man lived in our street, and knew the Smiths very well. A woman, on
+hearing their name mentioned, looked at me and said: 'Is this Smith's
+girl? Why, they will kill her and eat her for their dinner as she has
+lost them their pie.'</p>
+
+<p>'They would not gain much by that,' said a man,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> 'for the girl has not a
+pound of flesh upon her bones.'</p>
+
+<p>'Run, I tell you,' said the man who had first spoken to me. 'It is
+impossible for you to be worse off than you are with them; and if they
+catch you, they will be the death of you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Run, girl, run,' was shouted on all sides, 'run, run for your life!'
+called out the boys, who by this time had pretty well picked up all the
+apples. I still stood weeping, not knowing what to do, when a woman
+exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>'As I am alive, here comes Mother Smith with a great whalebone; now,
+girl, you'll be cut to pieces.'</p>
+
+<p>A general shout of 'Run! run!' from men, women, and children almost
+deafened me. Without stopping to see if Mrs. Smith was really coming, I
+did run as fast as my feet would carry me, till, strength and breath
+failing, I was obliged to slacken my pace. I had by this time run nearly
+the whole length of the Borough, and was almost at London Bridge. I had
+never before seen the Thames, and thought it was the sea. The noise of
+the water-works frightened me, and I hesitated about venturing on the
+bridge; but, seeing others go over, I, with some fear, followed them,
+and thought that I had escaped a great danger when I reached the
+opposite end in safety. But this imaginary fear was but a short
+interruption to my more just one of Mrs. Smith, and I now ventured to
+look back to see if I was pursued. Terror, I suppose, deceived me, for I
+thought I saw her coming with a stick in her hand. I again set off
+running, and, following the stream of the people, was soon in Cheapside.
+My feet were now sore, and cut in several places by the ice; but I still
+hurried on as well as I was able, till I entered St. Paul's Churchyard.
+There, notwithstanding my fear, I stood still to gaze on the immense and
+beautiful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> building, which I now for the first time beheld, and for some
+minutes I was lost in a dream of astonishment. My dream was soon
+interrupted by the crowds of people who were hurrying on in different
+directions, and who pushed me about without any ceremony, so that I was
+soon obliged to collect my scattered ideas and consider what I was now
+to do. I had left Mr. Smith's, but I had no where else to go to, not a
+friend to receive me, nor a house to shelter me for a single night. As I
+thought of my miserable situation, the tears chased each other down my
+face. Of the great numbers who passed me, no doubt some observed them;
+but they were all too much engaged with their own concerns to make any
+inquiries into the sorrows of a poor little outcast like myself, and I
+passed on unheeded. Going on with the course of the people, I went
+through St. Paul's Churchyard, down Ludgate Hill, along Fleet Street,
+and entered the Strand. By this time I had made the determination of
+endeavouring to find my way back to E&mdash;&mdash;; of going to Mr. Sanders's,
+and telling him how ill I had been treated by the Smiths; for I thought
+that his influence with the overseers would prevent their punishing me,
+as they had threatened, if I did not stay in my place. I therefore now
+began to look down all the streets as I passed them to see if any of
+them led to the country; but on the right hand side they all led to
+other streets. I began to think I should never come to the end of them.
+Being at length arrived opposite to Catharine Street, I looked up to it,
+and saw that it led to a wide space, where there was a great quantity of
+green that looked like small trees. 'Well,' thought I, 'this must be the
+way into the country, and the trees are beginning to grow here, but how
+little they are!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 406px;">
+<img src="images/i348.jpg" width="406" height="600" alt="The flight over London Bridge.&mdash;Page 349." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>The flight over London Bridge.&mdash;Page 349.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>I immediately crossed the Strand, went up Catharine Street, and entered
+Covent Garden. Disappointment damped my hopes when I found that this
+great space was surrounded by houses; but there was something so
+pleasing in the appearance of the evergreens that were exposed for sale,
+and the shops looked so pretty, being set out with holly and laurel,
+that I crossed into the market, and walked slowly along, examining the
+countenances of the shopkeepers, to see if there was one that looked
+sufficiently good-natured for me to dare to speak to her. At last I
+asked a woman who kept a fruit and flower shop if she would be so good
+as to direct me the way to E&mdash;&mdash;.</p>
+
+<p>'To E&mdash;&mdash;, child? Why, you are near forty miles off. What do you want
+there?'</p>
+
+<p>'I want to go to Mr. Sanders's,' replied I, 'and to tell him how ill Mr.
+Smith used me, and perhaps he would get me another place, and not let
+the overseers punish me.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't know what you are talking about, child,' said the woman. 'I
+know nothing of Mr. Sanders nor Mr. Smith. Who are they?'</p>
+
+<p>I looked in surprise at the woman, for I thought it impossible but
+everybody must know Mr. Sanders. I, however, replied that he was the
+clergyman at E&mdash;&mdash;.</p>
+
+<p>'Well,' said she, 'and who are you? A parish 'prentice, I should
+suppose, by your gown.'</p>
+
+<p>'And run away from your master,' said a man who had drawn near,
+attracted by curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>'Come, tell the truth,' said the woman, 'what made you run away? For
+that, I suppose, is the case.'</p>
+
+<p>I related the accident of the pie. The man and several others, who had
+come near to listen, laughed heartily.</p>
+
+<p>'And so,' said he, 'the old woman picked up the pie-crust, did she? She
+was no bad judge. The boys<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> had the apples, the gutter had the sugar,
+you had the mud; and, if you had gone home, I suppose you would have had
+the cane. Ha! ha! ha!'</p>
+
+<p>All the people laughed at this, and I stood crying.</p>
+
+<p>'Don't cry,' said the fruiteress, 'you shall not go back to Smith's
+again. I will see if I cannot get you another place, and a pair of
+stockings and shoes too, for you are barefoot.'</p>
+
+<p>'So she is,' said the man who had laughed so heartily; 'she seems to
+belong to the ragged regiment, to be sure. But how comes it, child, that
+your father and mother did not look after you a little?'</p>
+
+<p>At the mention of these dear names, my tears flowed afresh, and I sobbed
+out that I had no father or mother. The good-natured fruiteress
+absolutely wept; several women, who had come round us, shed tears; and
+the men said it was a great deal too bad that poor orphans should be
+treated so barbarously.</p>
+
+<p>'Well,' said the man who had laughed so much, 'pitying will do her but
+little good without something more substantial, so there's twopence for
+you, child, towards a pair of shoes; and if all these good people will
+give you as much you will soon be shod.'</p>
+
+<p>They did so far follow his example as to give me some a penny and some a
+halfpenny, so that in a short time I had one shilling and sevenpence
+halfpenny. They then went away, the fruiteress assuring them that I
+should have shoes and stockings, and that she had no doubt but that she
+could get me a place at a gardener's in the country where I might be
+comfortable. When the people were all gone, she told me to come into the
+shop and warm myself; but when she looked at my face, scratched with the
+ice and smeared with mud, she said:</p>
+
+<p>'I think a good washing will be the best thing for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span> you, for you cannot
+be made comfortable till you are clean.'</p>
+
+<p>She then gave me soap, water, a towel, and I was not a little glad of
+having the means of washing myself well. She then looked at my feet,
+which were much cut with the ice, and still bleeding.</p>
+
+<p>'Poor child,' said she, 'I think you have suffered enough for breaking a
+pie-dish. However, its done, and you shall soak your feet well with warm
+water; and when my little girls come with my dinner I will see if I
+cannot find you a pair of shoes.'</p>
+
+<p>I accordingly washed my feet well, which was a comfort I had not
+experienced for many months. The good woman threw away my old stockings
+and shoes, and, doubling a piece of carpet under my feet, told me to sit
+by the fire till her children brought the dinner.</p>
+
+<p>Thus refreshed, and seated on a low stool near the fire, I leaned my
+head against the wall, and was soon in a sound sleep. From this I was
+awakened in a little more than half an hour by a murmuring of voices. My
+first idea was that Mrs. Smith had discovered my retreat, and I started
+up in terror, exclaiming:</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, save me from her, for she will kill me!'</p>
+
+<p>'Do not frighten yourself, my dear,' said the fruiteress, 'it is only my
+little girls with the dinner. Come and sit to the table, I dare say you
+are hungry.'</p>
+
+<p>That I really was, but I was so dirty and ragged that I felt ashamed of
+sitting at the table with people who had everything clean and whole upon
+them. I therefore stood back, and, telling my reasons, asked her to let
+me have my dinner upon the stool.</p>
+
+<p>'Take off that ragged apron,' said she, 'and, Sally, my dear, let the
+little girl have yours, and then come and sit down to dinner with us,
+child.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Sally, a good-natured girl, seemingly about fourteen years old, took off
+her clean coloured apron, which she gave to me, and then, observing my
+naked feet, exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>'Dear mother, she has no shoes! Shall I take off mine, and let her have
+them?'</p>
+
+<p>'After dinner,' replied her mother, 'you must see if you have not a
+tolerable pair of shoes and stockings that you can give her; but now let
+us sit down, and be thankful that we have a good home to shelter us, and
+victuals to eat, and are not, like this poor child, without either.'</p>
+
+<p>The fruiteress (whose name I found was Williams) then said grace, and we
+all sat down to a comfortable dinner of boiled mutton, turnips, and
+potatoes, to which I was helped very liberally. During the repast the
+children naturally inquired who I was, and why I was there. The mother
+merely answered them as to how I had come; but, when the dinner was
+over, she asked me many questions, such as my name, and what I could
+remember of my parents, etc., and I told them all I could remember, from
+the time of my mother's death to the misfortunes of the present morning,
+taking care, at the same time, not to mention that I had my father's
+portrait in my possession. The good woman shed tears several times, and
+the children seemed much affected.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, my dears,' said she to them, 'it is well for you that you have a
+mother to take care of you, or you would not be better off than this
+poor child is. I am sure, when your dear father died, I thought we must
+have all gone to the workhouse; but yet I kept striving and striving,
+and Providence has sent us a living. But now you had better take the
+plates and things home, and see if you have not some of your clothes
+that you can spare for this little girl. Jane, you can let her have your
+old bonnet.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Yes, mother, and my blue spencer, too, for I have left off wearing it.
+May I bring it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, and make haste, for the poor child is very cold, as you may see,
+without a bit of a handkerchief on her neck this cold weather!'</p>
+
+<p>The children packed up the plates and the remains of the dinner on a
+tray, and took them to a room that their mother had at a small distance,
+where they slept, cooked, etc., as they could not do anything of that
+sort at the shop, on account of the fruit and flowers. The children soon
+returned with a bundle of clothes, which, though old, were by no means
+ragged, and, what was to me a great recommendation, they were all clean.
+From these things Mrs. Williams gave me a tolerably good pair of
+stockings and shoes, a very tidy straw bonnet with black ribbons, and a
+blue cloth spencer. The stockings, shoes, and spencer. I put on
+immediately, and felt so warm and comfortable that I seemed to myself
+quite a different creature. I offered to Mrs. Williams the money that
+had been collected for me in the morning, but she refused it, saying:</p>
+
+<p>'No, my dear, keep your pence; you will want them when you are gone into
+the country, and I cannot think of taking money from a poor friendless
+child like you. I have children of my own, and can feel for other
+people's.'</p>
+
+<p>This good woman then made up the remainder of the things into a small
+bundle, and told me that she should give them to me, and perhaps more,
+when I left her, which would most likely be the following day.</p>
+
+<p>'To-morrow is market morning,' said she. 'Several men that I know will
+be here with their cartloads of vegetables from the country. There is
+one in particular whom I think a very honest-hearted man. He is married,
+and has children of his own, so he may feel for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> you. I mean to ask him
+if he will try to get you employed at his master's, who has very
+extensive grounds indeed, and raises vegetables, fruits, and flowers for
+the London markets. He keeps more than fifty people employed about his
+grounds, and I think it will be a hard case if he cannot find room for
+you among them. What do you say, my girl? Will you like to be a
+gardener?'</p>
+
+<p>I replied that I did not know how to garden, but, if they would show me,
+I would do all I could to learn.</p>
+
+<p>'That is right,' said she. 'I hope they will engage you, and then, I
+dare say, you will do very well. I shall tell John Davis all your story,
+and that you are to be called Lady Anne, for that, as the good clergyman
+said, will be a more likely way for your father to discover you. It was
+not at all likely that he should find you out in such a dirty place as
+Smith's was, but it is probable that he may find you out at Freeman's
+nursery grounds, for, in the fine weather, he has crowds of quality go
+to look at his flowers and eat his fruit; and then, in the flower
+season, he has exhibitions of prize-tulips and prize carnations, when
+the nobility will go to see them, and there's such a number of carriages
+and curricles, and horses and gigs, and I don't know what besides, that
+the road is choked up like St. James's Street on a Court day; and who
+knows but your father may go among these great people? What do you say
+to that, Lady Anne?'</p>
+
+<p>Her description had brought former scenes to my mind, and the tears came
+into my eyes as I expressed my wish that my father might be among those
+who came to visit the gardens.</p>
+
+<p>The two children stayed all the afternoon, and employed themselves in
+needlework. Several people came and bought fruit and trees, such as
+geraniums, myrtles, and other greenhouse plants, so that Mrs. Williams
+had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span> what she called a good day, and said it would pay her for what she
+was doing for me. About five o'clock we had tea; and, about nine all the
+fruit and shrubs were taken inside the shop, which was then shut up, and
+I accompanied Mrs. Williams and her daughters home to her room. When we
+arrived there, one of the children made a fire, while the other set the
+things upon the table for supper. Mrs. Williams looked round the room
+and said:</p>
+
+<p>'Well, you have been very good girls; everything looks neat and
+comfortable. We will first have our supper, and then we must think how
+we can make up a bed for this little girl.'</p>
+
+<p>I now felt so comfortable that, if I could have stayed with Mrs.
+Williams, I should have been completely happy, and I may say that the
+few hours I spent in her family were like a bright gleam of sunshine
+darting through the gloom that had long surrounded me. After our supper,
+which was bread and broth made from the mutton that was boiled for
+dinner, Mrs. Williams spread a small mattress upon the ground, which,
+with two blankets and a pillow, made me a very good bed. She then, from
+her daughters' clothes, picked me out two pretty good chemises, a
+flannel petticoat, and an old stuff-frock, which still was a very good
+one. After I had put on my clean linen, Mrs. Williams took my old
+clothes, excepting my stays, which I doubled up and laid under my
+pillow, and tying them in a small bundle, opened the window and threw
+them into the street, saying:</p>
+
+<p>'Bad as they are, they may be useful to some poor creature.'</p>
+
+<p>We then retired to bed, and I passed some hours in peaceful repose.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>Chapter VI</h3>
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i356dc.jpg" width="156" height="150" alt="W" class="cap" />
+
+
+<p class="cap_2">We arose about four o'clock in the morning and went to the market,
+which, at this early hour, was crowded with waggons, carts, and country
+people, who had brought various kinds of vegetables for sale. Mrs.
+Williams and her eldest daughter went among these people to make their
+purchases, while the younger one, Jane, and myself went to the shop,
+which we opened, kindled a fire, and prepared everything for breakfast.
+About eight o'clock Mrs. Williams returned, accompanied by a clean,
+good-looking countryman, to whom she said:</p></div>
+
+<p>'This, Master Davis, is the little girl I was mentioning to you. I see
+breakfast is ready, so sit down and take a cup of tea with us, and I
+will tell you all I know about her, and how it was she came to me.'</p>
+
+<p>The good man took his seat at the table, and during the time of
+breakfast Mrs. Williams told him all my little story, and concluded by
+urging the request that he would try to get me engaged to work in Mr.
+Freeman's gardens.</p>
+
+<p>'I will do what I can,' said he; 'but this is a bad time of year to take
+on a fresh hand, and the child looks but weakly, and that, you know, is
+against her. However, I'll give her the chance, and take her down with
+me in the cart, and I'll go with her to Mr. Freeman and say what I can
+for her; and if he engages her, why, I'll let her be at my house as one
+of my children&mdash;that is, if my dame agrees to it, and belike she may, as
+we have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span> children of our own, and don't know what they may come to; but
+if master will not engage her, why, I must bring her back again next
+market-day, for I cannot afford to keep her for nothing.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, no,' said Mrs. Williams; 'I don't desire that you should. If Mr.
+Freeman will not engage her, bring her back, and I must try to do
+something else for her; but say all you can in her favour. She is a
+friendless child, and you don't know what your own children may come
+to.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very true,' said he. 'I'll do all I can for her. But what be we to call
+her, as she has no right kind of name? Lady Anne is so long that I shall
+never get it all out.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is no longer than Mary Anne,' replied she; 'and I think if you are a
+wise man you will call her by her title and make your children do the
+same. If it should be the means of discovering her father, it might put
+a pretty sum into your pocket.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, as for that, it might and it might not; but if it is the girl's
+name she shall be called by it, so there's an end to that. And now I
+must away to settle my money matters, and I'll come back for the child
+about eleven o'clock, so good-bye t'ye for the present.'</p>
+
+<p>Away went the man, leaving Mrs. Williams much pleased with the success
+she had met with, as she said she had not a doubt but Mr. Freeman would
+engage me when he knew it was one of his best customers that asked the
+favour. I was much pleased too, for, as I could not stay with Mrs.
+Williams, I did not venture to form a higher wish than to be engaged at
+Mr. Freeman's, for my spirits had been so much broken during my stay at
+Smith's that I no longer dared to indulge the hope of ever finding my
+father.</p>
+
+<p>About eleven o'clock my new friend, John Davis, came for me. Taking my
+little bundle under his arm,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> he conducted me to his cart. He lifted me
+in, and putting his horses into motion, we went shaking and rattling
+through the streets. This part of the journey was disagreeable enough;
+but when, at Knightsbridge, we entered the turnpike-road, then it began
+to be very pleasant. A complete thaw had succeeded to the frost; the
+fields and hedges looked green, and the air was as soft and mild as if
+it had been spring. I was seated on a truss of hay in the corner of the
+cart, and as we rode slowly along my spirits seemed to revive, and I
+once more indulged the pleasing hope of finding my father; then, again,
+as we advanced, my hope was damped by fear lest Mr. Freeman would not
+engage me, or lest Mrs. Davis should refuse to let me be at her house. I
+continued in this agitation of mind during the time of our little
+journey. At last we stopped at a cottage by the roadside, at a small
+distance from Turnham Green. John Davis lifted me out of the cart and
+led me into the house, where we were received by a woman, whom I
+immediately found was his wife.</p>
+
+<p>'You are late to-day,' said she; 'and, pray, who is this you have
+brought with you?'</p>
+
+<p>He took his seat near the fire (while I remained standing near the
+door), and briefly related my story to her, particularly dwelling on
+Mrs. Williams being such a good customer that he could not refuse to
+bring me.</p>
+
+<p>'Bless thee, John!' she said, as he concluded; 'I wish thee had as much
+wit as good nature, and thee would not have brought another person's
+child to burden us with. Suppose Master Freeman should not engage her,
+what's to be done then?'</p>
+
+<p>'I must take her back again, to be sure; but I don't see why he should
+not engage her&mdash;she's a clean, wholesome-looking girl.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The dame had eyed me pretty well during this conversation. She now gave
+me another scrutinizing gaze, and then said to her husband:</p>
+
+<p>'She may be clean and wholesome enough&mdash;I don't say anything against
+that&mdash;but she's as white as a curd, and does not look as if she has ever
+had a good meal of victuals in her life.'</p>
+
+<p>'The more's the pity, wife. Then let us give her one. I told you how
+cruelly that umbrella-maker in the borough used her. I should like to
+have the dressing of them with my horsewhip. I would lay it on them with
+goodwill, I give you my word.'</p>
+
+<p>'No fear of that,' replied his wife, 'and they deserve it, too. Come,
+child, don't stand there by the door; here's a seat for you by the fire.
+Dinner will soon be ready, and you shall not starve while you are with
+us, I give you my word; but whether we can let you stay or not is a
+different question.'</p>
+
+<p>Soon after this their three children, two girls and a boy, who were
+employed in the nursery-grounds, came in to dinner. The table was
+quickly spread, and we sat down to an ample repast of good boiled
+potatoes and fried bacon. After we had dined and sat awhile, Mr. Davis
+said to me:</p>
+
+<p>'Come, Miss Minnikin, let us go and see what Master Freeman will say to
+us. Why, wife, I'll be flogged if the girl does not look better already.
+I fancy she'll do credit to our keep.'</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose the child was cold and wanted her dinner,' replied his wife,
+'and now she has had it, of course she looks better. But do you see it
+is past one o'clock? You had better make haste; and you, children, be
+off to your work. You have stayed more than an hour at your dinner.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>We now all departed for Mr. Freeman's, which was about half a quarter of
+a mile distant. The children went to their work in the garden, and Mr.
+Davis led me up to the house. After having given an account to Mr.
+Freeman of the money he had taken at the market that morning, he
+presented me to him, and mentioned Mrs. Williams's request.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, Master Davis,' said Mr. Freeman, 'I do not want another hand, you
+know very well; but Mrs. Williams is, as you say, a very good customer,
+and so, I suppose, we must give the child a trial. Take her to Master
+Joseph, and he will set her about something, and we shall be able to
+judge by Saturday night what she can earn, and you shall be paid what is
+right, for I suppose she will be with you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, sir,' replied Mr. Davis. 'She shall take lot and scot among my own
+children. I shall make no difference.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, well,' said Mr. Freeman, 'we will do what is right by her and you
+too.'</p>
+
+<p>I was then taken into the grounds to Mr. Joseph, who was the
+head-gardener. We found him working at a flower-bed. When he saw Mr.
+Davis he said:</p>
+
+<p>'Well, friend, what have you there&mdash;a lily or a snow-drop?'</p>
+
+<p>'Which you please, Master Joseph,' replied the other. 'She is a little
+girl that I have brought to put under your government.'</p>
+
+<p>He then gave him an account how he had met with me, told him I was an
+Earl's daughter, but had lost my father, and was to be called Lady Anne.
+At this Mr. Joseph laughed, and said 'he had no objection to call me
+Lady Anne, but that he should forget and call me Lady Lily.' After a
+little more talk it was agreed that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span> I should go the following morning,
+as they both said it was too late for me to begin work that day. Mr.
+Davis then conducted me back to his cottage, and having told his wife
+that I was engaged, he went away to his work. The good dame told me that
+I might sit down and rest myself, for she supposed I was tired. I really
+was very tired, but seeing her engaged in mending the family clothes, I
+told her that if she pleased I would help her.</p>
+
+<p>'What!' said she; 'can you sew? I am sure if you can I shall be very
+glad of your help, for my girls never put in a stitch, even for
+themselves, except it is some finery for Sundays, and then they do it
+because I can't do it well enough for them. There, my girl, if you can
+mend me those stockings you'll do me a service. They have holes large
+enough for you to put your hand through. I have sometimes thought that
+if the girls would not mend their stockings themselves they should wear
+them with holes in, and so they would, for never a stitch would they put
+in, and then I am ashamed of seeing them go about in rags, so I keep
+mending for them; but I have so much to do that I can hardly keep them
+tidy.'</p>
+
+<p>I took the stockings and found the dame had described them very
+correctly, for one of the holes was so large that I actually did put my
+hand through it. However, by dint of close application, I mended two
+pairs of them before it was quite dark. I was then obliged to lay aside
+my work, as Mrs. Davis said she should not yet light a candle, and I
+need not do any more work till after tea. My having helped her at the
+needlework put her into high good humour, and she asked me a great many
+questions, and said she was glad that Mr. Freeman had engaged me, and
+that, if I behaved myself properly, I should be very welcome to stay
+with them till I was old enough to take<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span> care of myself. These kind
+expressions, so different to any I had heard for a long time, cheered my
+heart. I thanked her most sincerely, and promised to do all I could to
+please her. I then helped her to prepare the tea. Soon after this Mr.
+Davis and the children came in. We sat down to our tea, and during the
+repast the eager questions of the children as to who I was, where I came
+from, and what I was to do, were more attended to than they had been at
+dinner-time. Their father gave them some account of me, and made me
+relate all the particulars of my falling into the kennel with the pie.
+They all laughed heartily, and now that I was out of danger, I could not
+help laughing at it myself.</p>
+
+<p>'That smashing of the pie is a good joke,' said Mr. Davis. 'I should
+like to see how the Smiths looked when you did not go back, and when
+they heard that you had laid their pie in the gutter. I warrant they
+would wear out more pairs of shoes than they would sell in a week in
+running after the old woman and the boys; but I can tell you, girl, it
+was a lucky chance for you that you did tumble down, or else you would
+still have been with them misericating in their dirty garret. By-the-by,
+dame, where's the girl to sleep?'</p>
+
+<p>'That question is sooner asked than answered,' replied his wife. 'You
+know there is not a bit to spare in the house; the children cannot be
+put out of their beds. There is no way that I can see but for her to
+have a blanket and sleep among the hay in the loft over the stable. I
+have slept so many a time when I was a girl, and was none the worse for
+it.'</p>
+
+<p>'I wish you could make room for her in the house,' answered her husband.
+'I do not like the thought of turning her out of the house, as it were.
+Could you not make her up a bed on the floor?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'No, no,' replied his wife, 'I cannot. I can see no hardship in her
+sleeping upon clean sweet hay, with a good blanket to wrap round her.'</p>
+
+<p>To shorten the contest I said that I thought I could sleep very well
+upon the hay, though I certainly should have preferred sleeping in the
+house, but I was afraid they would quarrel on my account, which would
+have been to my injury; and, at all events, the hay-loft was a better
+place to sleep in than the wretched attic at Mr. Smith's. This point
+being settled, Mr. Davis went out, as he had not yet finished his day's
+work, and it being dark, so that no more work could be done in the
+gardens, the children remained at home.</p>
+
+<p>I had now an opportunity of observing these children. The eldest was a
+girl, seemingly about thirteen, of a healthy, robust appearance, but by
+no means neat in her dress. The second, a girl of eleven, with much the
+same appearance as her sister; and the youngest, a boy, seemingly about
+nine, a chubby, good-natured-looking little fellow, and, I thought, very
+like his father. After the tea-things were put away, the girls brought
+each a little box to the table, in which was a quantity of odd pieces of
+muslin, ribbon, silk, etc., and they passed the evening in making these
+things up into frills and other articles of finery. The boy brought a
+quantity of wood to the further end of the table, and with no tool but a
+knife and a little saw, he employed himself in making little toys. That
+evening he made a dining-table and a chair.</p>
+
+<p>'Tommy is a clever boy,' said the mother to me, seeing I was looking at
+his work. 'He amuses himself of an evening in making these kind of toys,
+and he sells them to young gentlemen and ladies in the neighbourhood,
+and I assure you they like his toys better than what they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span> buy in the
+shops. What was it Master Watson gave you for the little boat, Tommy?'</p>
+
+<p>'Half a crown, mother; but I was two weeks in making it; and last week I
+earned two shillings in making chairs and tables.'</p>
+
+<p>I felt curious to know what Tommy did with his money, as he earned so
+much, but I did not like to ask the question, as that would have been
+rude. However, his mother, who seemed very fond of him, and, I thought,
+justly so, soon told me.</p>
+
+<p>'Tommy earns a great deal of money by this kind of work, which is his
+play,' said she; 'and he gives every farthing of it to his father and
+me. Part of it we lay out in clothes for him, and the rest we are saving
+till he is ten years old, and then he is to go to school, and his own
+money will pay for it. We take what he earns at the grounds for his
+keep, but all that he earns of an evening shall be laid out upon
+himself. I wish my girls were half as industrious.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, la! mother,' said the eldest, 'you would never let us amuse
+ourselves at all, I believe. We go to the grounds as soon as it is light
+of a morning and work there till it is dark of an evening, and you have
+all the money we earn. I don't know what more you would have.'</p>
+
+<p>'I would have you mend your own clothes, hussy, and not spend all these
+long evenings in making up a parcel of finery that only makes people
+laugh at you.'</p>
+
+<p>I was much afraid that the mother and daughter would have quarrelled,
+but Tommy, showing his workmanship to his mother, took her attention
+from his sister, and thus peace was restored. Mrs. Davis and I spent the
+evening, till nine o'clock, in mending stockings. Then her husband came
+in, and we sat down to our supper of bread and cheese and small beer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>After supper was over Mr. Davis would not allow any more work to be
+done, so we sat and chatted till ten o'clock, which was bedtime. Mrs.
+Davis then gave me a piece of rush-light in a lanthorn, and I was shown
+to the hay-loft, where the fragrant smell of the hay was as refreshing
+as the dirt at Mr. Smith's had been disgusting.</p>
+
+<p>I soon tossed up a sufficient quantity of hay to make myself a soft nice
+bed; and, after having on my knees returned thanks to the Almighty for
+having delivered me from such a state of misery as I had been in, I
+wrapped the blanket around me, and, laying down on the hay, was soon in
+a profound slumber.</p>
+
+
+<h3>Chapter VII</h3>
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i365dc.jpg" width="155" height="150" alt="I" class="cap" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="cap_2">I was awakened the next morning about seven o'clock by Mr. Davis, who
+came into the stable below, calling out:</p>
+
+<p>'What! hollo, lassy! Be you awake? Come, it's time to get up. Breakfast
+is almost ready, and you must be in the gardens by eight o'clock.'</p>
+
+<p>I had slept so soundly, and had such an uncommonly long night to what I
+had for the last eight months been accustomed to, that I did not at
+first recollect where I was, but, quickly remembering everything, I
+answered Mr. Davis, and, dressing myself as expeditiously as possible I
+went down. Going into an outhouse, where there was plenty of water, I
+gave myself a good washing, and, having combed my hair with a comb that
+Mrs. Williams had given<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span> me, I went into the house and found the family
+just beginning their breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>'I'll be flogged if the girl does not look five pounds better than she
+did yesterday morning, when I first saw her at Mrs. Williams's!' said
+Mr. Davis. 'You have slept well, girl, I'll answer for it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, sir,' I replied. 'I have slept better than I did all the time I
+was at Mr. Smith's.'</p>
+
+<p>'I knew she would sleep well upon the sweet hay,' said Mrs. Davis. 'But,
+come, child, take your breakfast. It is almost time you should be gone.'</p>
+
+<p>Breakfast being soon over, I accompanied the children to the garden,
+where, having conducted me to Mr. Joseph, they went to their own work in
+another part of the grounds.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Joseph was a grave man, between fifty and sixty years of age. He
+superintended all the work of the garden. Some of the children he
+instructed himself in what they were to do, and some he put under the
+care of other people. He had read a good deal, and understood botany,
+and knew the Latin names of all the trees and plants in the garden. That
+Mr. Freeman had sent me to be under his own care, I was very glad, for
+he seemed a very good-natured man. After a little conversation, in which
+he asked me if I could read, if I knew anything about gardening, and a
+few more of the like questions, he set me to pick the weeds and stones
+out of a bed of pinks, and, having shown me how to do it, he left me to
+myself. I worked diligently at my new employment (frequently
+congratulating myself on the happy change I had made). The clock struck
+twelve, when we all went home to dinner. One hour was allowed for that
+repast. When I returned in the afternoon, Mr. Joseph came to see what I
+had done. He commended my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> diligence, and, as the first bed was
+tolerably well weeded, he told me to go on to the next, and I was again
+left to myself.</p>
+
+<p>In high spirits at being praised, which was quite a new thing to me, I
+worked on all the afternoon till about four o'clock, when it became too
+dark to distinguish plants from weeds; then, in company with the
+children, I returned home to Davis's cottage. What a delightful contrast
+did this cottage present to the miserable shop and parlour at Smith's!
+There everything was spoiled by dirt and confusion: here all was clean.
+The brick floor was nicely swept and sanded, a cheerful fire blazed in
+the grate, and the tea, with plenty of coarse bread and salt butter, was
+ready upon the table, and the countenances of the family expressed
+health and contentment. After tea was over I again offered my services
+to Mrs. Davis to assist her in her sewing. They were willingly accepted,
+and this evening passed as the former one had done. At ten o'clock I
+again retired to my bed in the loft.</p>
+
+<p>The week passed rapidly away, and I had the pleasure of being very much
+praised by Mr. Joseph, who said I should soon be a better gardener than
+any of the children on the grounds. Saturday night came, and Mr. Davis
+received for my work at the rate of sixpence a day, which, he said, was
+rather more than he had expected. Mrs. Davis was also very well
+contented, and said that what with the money I earned, and what with the
+sewing I did for her of an evening, they should be very well paid for
+me. I was much pleased that my new friends were so well satisfied with
+me, and I looked upon myself as being now settled in a comfortable home.
+I was also upon very good terms with the children. The girls were
+pleased that I mended their clothes for them, which prevented<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span> their
+being so much blamed by their mother; and Tommy was so grateful to me
+for having mended some of his that he made me a little box for me to put
+my money in when I had any. I offered the money that had been given to
+me at Covent Garden to Mrs. Davis, but she told me to keep it till I
+wanted a pair of shoes, and that then they would make up the deficiency
+for me. I accordingly put it into my box and deposited it in a safe
+corner of my loft.</p>
+
+<p>Thus passed away the winter months. I was under the care of Mr. Joseph
+more than the other children that were employed about the grounds; for,
+as I could read, he taught me the Latin as well as the English names of
+the different plants and flowers, so that I could bring him any that he
+wanted from either the green or the hothouse. When I had been there two
+months, my wages were raised to four shillings a week; besides that, Mr.
+Joseph often gave me a penny for myself.</p>
+
+<p>The tranquil, and I may say happy, life I now led soon made a great
+alteration in my personal appearance. I grew plump, and by the time the
+month of March came, I had such a colour in my cheeks that Mr. Joseph
+said his lily was turned into a rose.</p>
+
+<p>As the days increased in length, our hours of labour were also
+increased, for we were now on the ground by six in the morning, and did
+not leave work till seven in the evening. This lengthening of the days
+was a great advantage to me. I awoke with the dawn, and generally had a
+full hour to myself before any other part of the family was up. Then I
+used to contemplate the portrait of my dear father, which I used to talk
+to as if it could understand me, to mend my clothes, and to read in old
+school-books of the children's that were lying about, and never looked
+into by their owners. All the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span> books I had ever read were the Bible,
+Testament, Prayer Book, and the spelling-book. The old books belonging
+to the children were an abridgment of the history of England, a small
+geography, and a little book of poetry. I took such pleasure in reading
+these books that I could soon repeat the whole pages of them without a
+single mistake, and the poetry I soon learned from the beginning to the
+ending of the book.</p>
+
+<p>The flower season was now advanced, and ladies and gentlemen came to
+walk in the garden, and to buy flowers. I was always anxious to see
+them, that I might have an opportunity of observing if any of the
+gentlemen resembled my father's portrait. Mr. Joseph, who knew my story,
+was so good-natured as to send me to them with flowers, and, as I was
+always particular to keep myself neat and clean, the ladies were rather
+pleased with my attendance than otherwise. One day, when I carried a
+large quantity of flowers to a party, one of the gentlemen said:</p>
+
+<p>'This little damsel is the finest plant in the whole garden, for she
+carries violets in her eyes and roses upon her cheeks.'</p>
+
+<p>The ladies laughed at what they called his compliment, while I was so
+much abashed that, giving the flowers into the hands of one of the
+ladies, I retreated to a distant part of the garden. After this I made
+my observations at a greater distance, but, alas! among the hundreds who
+visited the garden, I could not discover one who resembled the portrait.</p>
+
+<p>Thus employed, my days flew rapidly past, and I was so happy that,
+unless it had been to discover my father, I did not wish for any change
+in my situation; but clouds of sorrow again gathered around me, and I
+was soon very unhappy. My unhappiness arose from two causes:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span> the first
+was that most of the children envied me on account of the partiality
+shown me by Mr. Joseph, and would jeer at me because I was called Lady
+Anne. Mr. Davis's children were not among the number of these, for, on
+account of my mending their clothes, they were upon very good terms with
+me. The second cause of my unhappiness was of a more serious nature, and
+arose from what I could not have expected, and from what I could not and
+would not alter, as I shall soon explain.</p>
+
+<p>As the summer advanced, such of the children as were turned of twelve
+years of age, and were able to carry a basket upon their heads, were
+sent to town with flowers and fruit, which would have been crushed and
+bruised if sent to town in the cart. Mr. Davis's eldest daughter and
+myself were amongst the number of these.</p>
+
+<p>At first I was much pleased at the thought of this walk, as it was an
+agreeable change from our usual mode of living; the flowers were light
+to carry, and the walk was not so long as to be a fatigue. I also looked
+forward to the pleasure I should have in seeing Mrs. Williams, and
+thanking her for having procured me such a happy situation.</p>
+
+<p>On the appointed morning we left the garden and proceeded to town under
+the guidance of two or three women and one man, who was one of the
+principal gardeners. They also carried their baskets, which were larger
+and heavier laden than ours.</p>
+
+<p>The walk to town was pleasant. We arrived at the market, and in about
+two hours had sold off all our stock. Mrs. Williams bought the contents
+of my basket, and congratulated me on the great improvement in my health
+and appearance.</p>
+
+<p>Richard having paid some fees which were customary for the privilege of
+standing in the market, we took up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span> our baskets and began to walk
+homeward. We had not gone far when Richard entered a public-house, the
+women and children followed, I, of course, did the same. We went into a
+room where there was no one but ourselves; there we all had to give up
+our money to Richard, which he counted over. He took out two shillings
+to be spent in the house, one shilling for himself, ninepence for each
+of the women, and sixpence apiece for the children; then, putting the
+remainder of the money together, said that was for the master. I was so
+astonished at this proceeding that I asked him what he meant by it. He
+laughed at me, and said it was a general rule among themselves to make a
+little deduction on market-days to pay them for the trouble of coming to
+town.</p>
+
+<p>'I thought,' said I, 'that Mr. Freeman paid us for our work on Saturday
+night. Does he know that you take this money?'</p>
+
+<p>'Know it, blockhead! no. And it will be the worse for you if you tell
+him. Come, take your sixpence, and think yourself well off that we let
+you share with us.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not want the sixpence,' said I, 'unless it is to give it to Mr.
+Freeman, for it is his money, and I will not keep it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Lady Anne,' said Susan Davis, 'do not be a simpleton. Take the money,
+and do not pretend to more honesty than the rest of us.'</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot take the money,' said I. 'Mr. Sanders told me never to take
+other people's property, but always to do as I would be done by.'</p>
+
+<p>'You shall not have the money,' said Richard, at the same time giving me
+a violent slap across the shoulders. 'Mr. Sanders was a canting old
+Methodist, and you are like him. But take care, if you say a word of
+what has passed I will be the death of you.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The women and children were also in a violent rage, and began beating me
+and pulling my hair, so that I was afraid they would really kill me, and
+I cried out, begging them not to beat me, and that I would not tell.</p>
+
+<p>'Let her alone,' said Susan Davis; 'she will not tell, I'll answer for
+her. I'll talk to her when we are at home; and, I dare say, next
+market-day, she will do as we do.'</p>
+
+<p>'Aye, let her alone,' said Richard, 'or Joseph will find out that we
+have been thumping her. She has a pretty swelled face to show. But mind,
+girl, if you say a word of what has passed I'll tie you neck and heels,
+and throw you into a pond.'</p>
+
+<p>I was obliged to renew my promise of secrecy, and soon after we left the
+house.</p>
+
+<p>When we came to town in the morning the distance had appeared as nothing
+to me, my heart was then so light; but now I felt so wretched that the
+distance seemed more than double, the empty basket felt so heavy on my
+head, and I felt myself like a guilty culprit who had robbed her master.</p>
+
+<p>When we arrived at the grounds Richard went to give an account of the
+morning's sale, and what money he thought proper, to his master. The
+women and children went to their work in different parts of the garden,
+and I also concealed myself from Mr. Joseph's sight, lest he should see
+that I had been in tears.</p>
+
+<p>In the afternoon he called for me, and I tremblingly obeyed his summons.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, Lady Anne, how is this?' said he. 'Why do you not like to come to
+me as usual? How did you like your walk this morning? But what is the
+matter? You have been crying.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am so tired,' I replied, 'and the basket was heavy.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'That is not all,' said he, regarding me very earnestly; 'somebody has
+been beating you, for you have the marks of the blows upon your face and
+shoulders. Who was it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Pray, sir, do not ask me,' said I; 'for if I tell you I shall be beat
+more.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, well,' said he, 'I will not ask you. I have long seen that the
+girls envied you. They think that I favour you, and, if I do, it is
+their own fault. There is not one among them that, if I sent to the
+greenhouse for a plant, but will either come back without it, or bring
+me a wrong one, though they have all been sent to school, and might have
+learned to read if they would. There are Davis's two daughters: Mr.
+Freeman paid for their schooling for two years, yet neither of them can
+read the names of the plants. But you are envied because I employ you in
+doing what they cannot do. Well, never mind, Rose, you shall not go to
+town any more with them, but stay here with me, and attend to the ladies
+and gentlemen.'</p>
+
+<p>I was glad to hear Mr. Joseph say this, for I was in hopes I should be
+free from any further trouble, and be as happy as I had been; but sorrow
+had again burst upon me like a storm, and I was not yet to be rescued
+from its fury.</p>
+
+<p>When we went home at night, Susan took an opportunity when her father
+was out of the house to tell her mother the adventures of the morning,
+with some alterations of her own; and I was astonished to hear her
+mother defend the conduct of Richard and the others, and blame me for
+not joining the robbery; and, when I would not say that the next time we
+went to town (for I did not dare to tell them that I was not to go any
+more) I would take my share in the plunder, she was completely in a
+rage, and kept repeating that there was no harm in taking the money. At
+last I ventured to say:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Would you think it right of me, ma'am, if I was to rob <i>you</i>?'</p>
+
+<p>'To rob <i>me</i>, child! No. But that is quite a different thing. To rob
+<i>me</i>! No. You would be the most ungrateful creature that ever lived if
+you did. I took you in, and sheltered you when you had not a hole to put
+your head in, nor a morsel of victuals to eat.'</p>
+
+<p>'You did, ma'am,' I replied; 'and I would do anything I could to serve
+you. I would not rob nor injure you upon any account. And I cannot rob
+Mr. Freeman, for he gave me employment when I had none, and he pays me
+six shillings a week. How ungrateful I should be if I could rob him. I
+cannot do it; indeed, I cannot.'</p>
+
+<p>'Take your supper and go to bed,' said Mrs. Davis. 'I cannot argue with
+you, but I know that you are a very foolish child.'</p>
+
+<p>I did as I was ordered, and retired to my loft, and happy should I have
+been if this disagreeable business ended there, but a few evenings
+after, just before we left the gardens, I went to put a knife into a
+basket that belonged to Susan, and, to my surprise and grief, found that
+it concealed five fine peaches in it. I trembled so when I saw them that
+I could scarcely cover them over again, and soon after, as we were
+walking home, with great civility and humility I ventured to remonstrate
+with her on the great impropriety, and indeed danger, of her robbing the
+garden.</p>
+
+<p>'What business have you to look into my basket?' said she. 'If you do
+not choose to take a little fruit yourself you have no right to meddle
+with them that do; however, I shall tell mother, and I hope she'll turn
+you into the wide world again as you were when you came to us.'</p>
+
+<p>When we arrived at home Mr. Davis was in the house,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span> and Susan did not
+choose to say anything till he went out; she then opened the basket,
+showed the peaches to her mother, and made a heavy complaint of my
+impertinence in telling her she ought not to take them, that it was
+stealing, and would, if discovered, most likely be the cause of her
+being discharged from the garden.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Davis was in such a passion that she struck me several times, and
+said I should be the cause of her children being turned out of work.</p>
+
+<p>'Don't say me, mother,' said Tommy, 'for I shall not steal. The
+Catechism says I am to keep my hands from picking and stealing, and
+father says if I steal I shall come to be hanged, so that you may depend
+upon it I shall not steal, and I wish sisters would not.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are a little blockhead,' replied his mother; 'and as for Lady Anne,
+if she does not mind what she is about I shall turn her out of doors,
+and she may go a-begging.'</p>
+
+<p>The peaches were then put out of sight. Soon after this Mr. Davis came
+in; we had our supper, and at ten o'clock went to bed.</p>
+
+<p>In the course of the following day the peaches were missed at the
+garden, for Mr. Freeman had counted the fruit on some of the principal
+trees, and this day he found that three peaches had been taken from one
+tree and two from another. We were all questioned about it, and all our
+baskets were examined, but as all denied the theft and no fruit could be
+found, no one could be charged with it. Mr. Freeman was very angry on
+this occasion, as he well might, and ordered Mr. Joseph to keep a strict
+watch over all the workpeople, as he was determined to make an example
+of whoever should be detected robbing him, let it be who it might. I was
+anxious to know what the children did with the fruit, as I never saw
+them eating it, and I soon found that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span> when their father was out of the
+house (for they did not dare to let him know of their ill practices) the
+fruit was exposed in the window for sale. Their father having a small
+garden, in which were a few fruit trees, served as an excuse for all the
+fruit they had to sell, and thus they contrived to deceive their father
+and rob their master.</p>
+
+<p>The strict watch kept by Mr. Joseph, and some of the honest people in
+the garden, prevented any fruit being taken for some time, but the plum
+season coming on, and the plums on a tree not being so easily counted,
+nor so soon missed, as peaches, the children again ventured to take a
+few, and their father having two fine trees of the kind in his garden,
+if once the plums could be got home there was no likelihood of their
+being detected.</p>
+
+<p>I did not watch the children, nor wish to know anything of what they did
+in the garden, yet somehow it seemed as if I was always to find them out
+in their thefts, for I one day suddenly came upon them just as they were
+cramming about a dozen fine Orlean plums into their pockets. I covered
+my face with my hands, and said:</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, why will you do so? We shall all be discharged.'</p>
+
+<p>'<i>You</i> shall be discharged,' said Susan, darting at me and slapping me
+with all her strength. 'What business have you to watch us? This is the
+first bit of fruit we have taken since those nasty peaches, and now, I
+suppose, you will go and tell.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, I shall not,' replied I; 'but I wish you would not take any more
+fruit. You know what Mr. Freeman said.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, and you shall know what my mother will say. I am not to be
+followed about and watched, and lose my place, for a tell-tale
+beggar-girl.'</p>
+
+<p>I again assured her that I should not tell, and went away to a distant
+part of the garden, my mind being<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span> very unhappy, for I thought that if
+these thefts were discovered we should all be discharged, and again I
+thought that perhaps I was doing very wrong in concealing them, but then
+how could I bring people who were so kind to me into disgrace, and even
+into want of bread? I did not know what to do, but, after much
+considering in my own mind, I determined that when Saturday night came
+to ask Mr. Joseph to give me only five shillings, and not to ask me any
+questions, for I thought that the odd shilling would partly pay for the
+fruit Mr. Davis's children took. Having made this determination I felt
+rather happier, though I dreaded the resentment of Mrs. Davis and the
+children. When night came we went home together, the children not
+speaking to me once the whole way. When we arrived at the house Mr.
+Davis was out, and Susan asked her mother to give Tommy his supper, as
+she had something to say to her. The mother, who saw something
+particular was the matter, hurried the child to bed, while I sat on a
+chair near the door sick at my very heart. No sooner had her brother
+left the room than Susan told of the discovery of the plums, with many
+additions of her own. Mrs. Davis was in such a passion that she could
+scarcely speak for two or three minutes; she seized me by the arm, and
+shook me violently.</p>
+
+<p>'I will put a stop to this,' said she as soon as she had recovered her
+breath. 'You shall not stay here to be the ruin of my children, you
+ungrateful creature. Don't we feed you and clothe you? Don't you have
+all the children's old clothes, and don't you mend them up and make them
+look so smart that you look as well dressed as they do, though their
+clothes are new and yours are old? Oh, you ungrateful creature. You
+would ruin us all for our kindness to you.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She then ran over the affair of the peaches, and of my refusing to take
+the money at the market, reproaching me at every sentence, till she
+increased her anger to such degree that she seemed to lose her reason,
+and, again seizing me by the arm, she said she would give me cause to
+repent of my ingratitude to the latest moment of my life, when at the
+instant I expected to be dashed to the ground, to her great dismay, and
+to my great relief, an inner door opened, and her husband entered the
+room.</p>
+
+<p>'Stop, mistress,' said he, 'do not dare to hurt that child. I came in by
+the wash-house, and have heard all Suke's story, and have heard who
+stole the peaches. Little did I think, when there was such a piece of
+work about them, that my own children were the thieves, and little did I
+think, when Suke was so pleased at going to market, that it was because
+she was to go shares with a parcel of thieves in robbing her master.'</p>
+
+<p>'Now, John,' said his wife, 'how can you talk so? What harm is there in
+the children taking a few pence apiece? They have more trouble when they
+go to town, and they ought to be paid for it. You know that all the
+workpeople make a market-penny.'</p>
+
+<p>'I know no such thing,' replied her husband. 'They are allowed money for
+refreshment when they go to town, and if they take more than the master
+allows I say that they cheat him, but I'll put a stop to Suke's tricks,
+for she shall not go to town any more. I shall speak to Mr. Joseph about
+that.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, surely you are not going to tell him that they divided a few pence
+among them.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, wife, I am not, but I shall ask him not to let her leave the
+garden, for that I don't think she is steady enough to be sent to town
+yet. And now, you two girls, hear what I say to you. Every one of those
+plums must be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span> returned. You must take all of them back again, and lay
+them under the trees that you took them from, and next time that I know
+you to steal a single thing, aye, if its only a single plum, I'll
+horsewhip you while I can stand over you.'</p>
+
+<p>The father was now silent, the two girls sat weeping, and the mother,
+who had been very much agitated, first by anger and then by fear, threw
+herself into a chair, and burst into a violent passion of tears. Mr.
+Davis walked two or three times across the floor, and then stopping,
+said:</p>
+
+<p>'Now what's the use of crying and taking on in this manner? Is it not as
+easy to be honest as to be thieves? Oh, wife, wife, you do not consider
+what a bad course our girls have begun in. They have begun with trifles,
+but they will go on till they take something great, and then they will
+either be transported or hung, and that will break our hearts, and bring
+our grey hairs with sorrow to the grave.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, John, do not talk so,' said Mrs. Davis; 'I cannot bear to hear you
+talk about the grave. The girls shall not steal any more. If they bring
+home any more fruit I will not put it into the window, nor sell it, so
+now let us have done with it, and let us be friends again.'</p>
+
+<p>'Aye, let us be friends, with all my heart,' said Mr. Davis, taking his
+wife's hand, 'and I hope nothing of this sort will ever happen again.
+Now, children, leave off crying, and be good girls, and remember that
+honesty is the best policy, for if you follow bad practices you will
+also be poor and despised.'</p>
+
+<p>Soon after this we had our supper, which we took nearly in silence, for
+we were all of us in grief, though from different causes, and from some
+angry glances cast at me by Mrs. Davis I saw I had yet more to dread
+from her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span> resentment. When I was going to bed Mr. Davis said:
+'Good-night, Lady Anne, do not cry; I am not angry with you. You are a
+good girl. I wish my own children were as honest.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Davis and the girls also wished me good-night, but in such a cold,
+constrained manner that I trembled for what might be the consequences of
+their anger. When I reached my loft I gazed with tears upon my father's
+picture, and earnestly did I wish and pray that I might at some time be
+restored to his protection. I then retired to my bed among the hay, and
+there, for the first time since I had been in the family, I wept myself
+to sleep.</p>
+
+<p>Early in the morning I went to the garden. Mrs. Davis's children did not
+choose to walk with me, so I went alone. When I returned home to
+breakfast (it being market-day Mr. Davis was gone to town) his wife and
+daughters did not speak to me once during the meal, excepting to tell me
+that the plums were laid under the trees. I finished my breakfast as
+soon as I could and returned to my work, grieved that I had lost the
+goodwill of people who were really kind to me, but whose practices were
+such as I could not follow. The hour of dinner came, and with a heavy
+heart I went to the cottage, dreading the angry looks, and perhaps
+reproaches, of Mrs. Davis. When I arrived there I found the brother and
+sister-in-law of Mrs. Davis were paying her a visit. I had seen these
+people once before, and soon after I came into the family; they were
+pedlars, and traversed the county from one end of it to the other. The
+man carried a large pack filled with linens, muslins, stuffs, and many
+other articles for clothing; his wife carried two boxes, with trinkets,
+lace, millinery, and a great variety of light goods. When I entered the
+room they turned their eyes upon me as if I had been the subject of
+their conversation,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span> which I quickly found had been the case, for Mrs.
+Davis said to them:</p>
+
+<p>'That is the girl I have been telling you of. She would be of great use
+to you, for she could carry one of the boxes, and in my house she is of
+no use in the world, but quite a burden to us, and she makes quarrels
+between my husband and me, for you know that Davis is so particular, and
+has such odd notions about honesty, that he seems to think it next thing
+to murder to take a bit of fruit or a sixpence belonging to Mr. Freeman.
+You never heard such a piece of work as we had last night because the
+girls had taken a few plums.'</p>
+
+<p>She then in her own way told her brother of the keeping back part of the
+market-money and of the peaches. I was surprised that she was not
+ashamed of telling such things, but she was not, and her brother only
+laughed at them, and said that honesty was very well in its place, but
+that it was ridiculous to carry it so far.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, however,' said he, 'I shall have no objection to Lady Anne (I
+think you call her) being very honest with us. I shall not be afraid of
+her robbing me.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, indeed,' replied his sister; 'you will have no cause. You might
+trust her with your pack and boxes all open; she would not rob you of a
+farthing's worth; she is only <i>too</i> honest, that is her fault.'</p>
+
+<p>'And it is a fault that perhaps I can cure her of,' returned her
+brother. 'But she has only been used to gardening. She will be of very
+little use to us, for we do not want a girl merely to carry a band-box.'</p>
+
+<p>'She can work very well at her needle,' quickly answered his sister. 'It
+is unknown the sewing she has done for me since she has been here. I
+have never had the children so tidy in my life as since she has been
+with us. I shall miss her help very much, that I know I shall.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Do not let me go,' said I, for I was really frightened at the thought
+of being sent away with Mr. Sharpley and his wife. 'Pray let me stay. I
+will work so hard; I will do everything I can to please you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Will you promise to take a little fruit, as the others do, and not say
+anything when you see my children take some, and to take a market-penny
+when you can get it?' answered Mrs. Davis. 'Promise me that, and you
+shall stay.'</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot promise it,' said I, bursting into tears, 'for I must not
+steal.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very well, then, you shall go,' returned she. 'It is entirely your own
+fault. I had no wish to part with you, but I cannot keep you to turn my
+children out of bread.'</p>
+
+<p>'Lady Anne is a <i>nonsuch</i> of honesty,' said Mr. Sharpley; 'but I warrant
+she will tell a different tale by this time twelvemonths. What say you,
+wife? Shall we take her or not?'</p>
+
+<p>'As she can work at her needle,' replied Mrs. Sharpley, 'suppose we give
+her a trial for a few months. If she does not do for us, we can bring
+her back again; and as for her honesty, that will not hurt us.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, then, I suppose it is a bargain,' said Mr. Sharpley, 'so, my
+girl, if you have any better clothes make haste and put them on; and,
+sister, let us have a bit of dinner, as I want to be going.'</p>
+
+<p>'And I want you gone,' replied his sister, 'for if my good man comes
+home before you are off, it's ten to one but he knocks all the business
+on the head, and I shall have the girl on my hands again. Lady Anne,
+make haste; and you, Suke, look after her a little.'</p>
+
+<p>This command to Susan to watch me prevented my following a plan I had
+just formed, which was to run<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span> back to the garden and tell Mr. Joseph
+that they were going to send me away against my will; but I suppose they
+were afraid I should do so, for Susan did not leave me a single moment
+till I was washed and dressed. I then entered the room where they all
+were, and presented myself before them, with the tears running down my
+face.</p>
+
+<p>'She is a genteel-looking child,' said Mrs. Sharpley; 'but what are you
+crying for, simpleton? We shall not hurt you, and you need not steal
+unless you like, so pray set your heart at ease.'</p>
+
+<p>I did try to check my tears, for I considered that I could never be
+happy at the cottage any more, though it grieved me to the heart to part
+with people who had been so kind to me, especially Mr. Joseph, Mr.
+Davis, and little Tommy, who was gone to town with his father; and these
+I was obliged to leave, without so much as saying <i>good-bye</i> to them. I
+was not able to eat a morsel of dinner, and Mr. and Mrs. Sharpley having
+finished theirs, we rose up to depart. I sobbed so that I could not
+speak. Mrs. Davis and the girls seemed a little affected. They shook
+hands with me, wished me well, and said they hoped I should grow wiser
+in time; then, with a band-box before me, that was fastened by a strap
+that went over my shoulders, I left the cottage, following my new master
+and mistress.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>Chapter VIII</h3>
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i384dc.jpg" width="127" height="150" alt="B" class="cap" />
+
+<p class="cap_2">Being thus turned out of the cottage, where I had once been so happy, I
+followed the footsteps of Mr. and Mrs. Sharpley, frequently looking back
+to see if I could discover Mr. Davis and his cart coming from town,
+which, if I had, I should certainly have run back, told him what had
+passed, and asked him to take me back to Mrs. Williams, instead of
+sending me away with strangers. But no cart came in view, and a turning
+in the road soon hid even the cottage from my sight. I then walked
+pensively forward, meditating on my own unhappy fate, and comparing it
+with that of other children who were blessed with parents and relations.
+Mr. and Mrs. Sharpley had frequently looked back, as if to see that I
+followed them, but&mdash;here the path became wider&mdash;they told me to come and
+walk between them. I did so, and they then asked me a great many
+questions respecting my story, all of which I was obliged to answer, so
+that they soon knew every particular, excepting my having my father's
+picture, which I took care not to give the least hint of. They then
+asked me about my age, and, as I could not answer them exactly, they
+calculated it as well as they could from circumstances. Supposing I was
+five years old at the time of my mother's death, as I was seven years at
+E&mdash;&mdash;, I must have been twelve years old the November before I went to
+the Smiths, thirteen last November, when I ran away from them; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span>
+should be fourteen next November. It was now the beginning of September.
+This point being settled, they began talking of other things, told me
+what a pleasant life I should lead with them, that all my employment
+would be to carry a light band-box during the days, and in the evenings,
+when they arrived at the inn where they were to pass the night, to work
+at my needle. To this I had no objection, and began to think I should
+not be so unhappy as I had at first supposed; but the idea of their
+stealing still predominated in my mind, though I could not imagine how
+they could do it, as the goods they carried were their own, and they
+could not rob themselves, and I was at a loss to think how they could
+commit theft. Simpleton that I was, I never thought that they could rob
+other people.</p></div>
+
+<p>As we proceeded, they told me the names of the different places we
+passed through. They stopped at all the genteel houses, and many of the
+farmhouses, to ask them if they wanted any goods. Several bought a good
+many things of them; others would scarcely give them an answer, but
+almost shut their doors in our faces. Thus passed away several hours.
+The shades of evening were beginning to fall, and I was very weary with
+walking so much, when we entered a large town, where they told me we
+should pass the night. We went to a small inn, which they said was the
+house where they always slept when they came to this town. We were shown
+to a room that they called their own, as it was kept entirely for their
+use. Mrs. Sharpley ordered tea, and her husband said to her:</p>
+
+<p>'Come, my dear, we must see if we have a remnant of some stuff to make a
+dress for Lady Anne. She is very well dressed for a gardener's girl, but
+not smart enough for us.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The pack was then opened, and they picked out the remains of a piece of
+very pretty slate-coloured stuff sufficiently large to make me a dress.</p>
+
+<p>'Now,' said Mrs. Sharpley, 'after tea we must stitch away, for your
+dress must be made this night before you go to bed.'</p>
+
+<p>The tea was soon brought in, and we all sat down to it with a good
+appetite, for it was now past seven o'clock, and we had not tasted
+anything but a little porter since we dined, which was between twelve
+and one o'clock. After tea Mr. Sharpley went out. His wife very
+expeditiously cut out my dress, and gave me the skirt to make, while she
+sat down to make the body and sleeves. I had been used to do a great
+deal of sewing, and was not slow at my needle; but I think I never in my
+life had worked so fast as I did that evening; and, as for Mrs.
+Sharpley, she worked so quick that her hand seemed absolutely to fly to
+and from the work. She said very little to me, except occasionally a few
+words of commendation, such as:</p>
+
+<p>'That is a good girl! I see you will do very well. If you are diligent
+you shall have no cause to repent having come with us.'</p>
+
+<p>Thus encouraged, I worked with unabated diligence till about ten
+o'clock, when Mr. Sharpley returned, and soon after our supper,
+consisting of mutton-chops and potatoes, was brought up. After supper
+Mrs. Sharpley and I returned to our work, and Mr. Sharpley read aloud
+from a newspaper. Thus passed the time, till a few minutes after twelve,
+when my dress was finished, excepting a little trimming of ribbon, which
+Mrs. Sharpley said might be put on another night. It was tried on,
+fitted me extremely well, and Mr. Sharpley said that if I was properly
+dressed I might<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a></span> pass, not only for an Earl's daughter, but a Duke's
+daughter.</p>
+
+<p>'But, Lady Anne,' said he very seriously, 'I would advise you to put all
+these fine thoughts out of your head, for, though I will not call your
+mother an impostor, as the people of E&mdash;&mdash; did, yet I must say that, if
+she had been an Earl's lady, she would hardly have been travelling in a
+post-chaise without an attendant. It seems to me that, whatever your
+father was, he had left your mother, and that she was returning to her
+own friends to live with them, when she was taken ill at E&mdash;&mdash;and died.
+If this is the case, which appears to me most likely, your father, if he
+was to see you, would not own you, nor give himself the least trouble
+about you; so I wish you to put all high thoughts out of your head, give
+your mind entirely to our business, and we will reward you according to
+your diligence.'</p>
+
+<p>These words brought tears into my eyes, for, though in my own mind I
+feared I should never find my father, yet to hear another person say
+that I should not seemed to make it so certain that my heart appeared to
+die at the thought; and then, again, to hear it said that my father had
+deserted us&mdash;that if he was to see me he would not own me&mdash;oh! could
+that be possible? Yet how was it that I was really left a wanderer in
+the wide world? That I knew not, but the certainty that I was so made me
+weep bitterly. Calming my agitation as much as I was able, I promised to
+be diligent in their business, and to obey them in everything that I
+could. They both laughed, and said I was terribly afraid they should
+want me to steal. Mrs. Sharpley then showed me to a bed in a closet
+adjoining their room, and the oblivion of sleep soon made me forget all
+that had passed the preceding day.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The next morning we breakfasted early, and then left the inn. In going
+through the town Mrs. Sharpley went into a shop, where she bought me a
+very pretty straw hat trimmed with blue ribbons. My dress was now
+completely different to what it had been the day before, I now having a
+new hat, new dress, and a pretty silk handkerchief pinned over my
+shoulders. The purchase being made, my old bonnet was thrown down in the
+street, for the benefit of whoever chose to pick it up. We then
+proceeded on our way, and soon left the town. This day was passed nearly
+as the former one had been, some people buying, and others not even
+looking at the goods. In the evening when we arrived at our inn, Mr.
+Sharpley went out while the tea was being prepared, and returned in
+little more than half an hour. We then had tea, after which he went out
+again. Mrs. Sharpley then employed herself in making caps and frills to
+sell, and I passed the evening in putting the trimming on to my dress. I
+now began to feel more reconciled to my new mode of life. Mr. and Mrs.
+Sharpley were good-natured, and certainly treated me with kindness, and
+I thought, if they did not want me to steal, I might be very comfortable
+with them. The week passed away. Saturday night came, and they gave me
+sixpence, telling me they should give me as much every week, so long as
+I continued to behave well. Weeks thus passed on. Our days were employed
+in walking from place to place, endeavouring to sell the goods, and our
+evenings in making up caps, frills, etc., for sale, and I soon became so
+expert in making them that they increased my weekly money from sixpence
+to a shilling. This money was in reality but of very little use to
+myself, for, as I had everything provided for me, I did not want it on
+my own account; but, then, it was a source of very great pleasure to
+me,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span> as it enabled me to relieve the distress of many poor objects that
+I met upon the road, whose pale faces told, without their speaking it,
+that they were in want of bread.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Sharpley did not go out every evening, but would sometimes spend it
+with us, and then he would read either the daily paper or some
+entertaining book, and when we had a good stock of caps and frills made
+up they would allow me to read books for my own amusement. Of these, as
+they sold them, they had a great variety, and thus circumstanced my life
+passed very pleasantly. Of <i>stealing</i> I never heard a word, and I began
+to think they had only talked of it to frighten me, but the time now
+came when I was to be undeceived. One evening when we arrived at our
+inn, before we sat down to tea, Mr. Sharpley took six silver teaspoons
+and a pair of sugar-tongs out of his pocket, and, laying them on the
+table, asked me what I thought he had given for them. As I did not know
+the value of such things it was impossible for me to guess, and after
+some time he said:</p>
+
+<p>'Why, then, to tell you the truth, I&mdash;stole them.'</p>
+
+<p>'Stole them!' I exclaimed with horror. 'How could you do so? Who did you
+steal them from?'</p>
+
+<p>'I <i>took</i> them, for we do not generally say <i>stole</i>, from the farmer's
+wife who bought the stuff gowns and two caps of us this afternoon.'</p>
+
+<p>I was so shocked at the ingratitude and baseness of the action that I
+burst into tears.</p>
+
+<p>'You are a silly girl to cry, Lady Anne,' said he. 'These are by no
+means the first things I have taken since you have been out with us, for
+of an evening when I go out it is generally to some friend of mine, who
+takes this kind of goods off my hands, and gives me money instead of
+them. When once they are gone I am in no danger, for if I was to be
+taken up, and my pack searched,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a></span> nothing could be found, so I should be
+set at liberty again.'</p>
+
+<p>'But,' said I, 'suppose you were to be taken up before you had parted
+with them, and they were to be found in your possession, what would be
+done to you then?'</p>
+
+<p>'I should most likely be hung,' replied he very calmly.</p>
+
+<p>'Be hung!' I exclaimed. 'But why do you do it? Do you not get enough
+money to live upon from the things you sell? You know it is a very
+wicked thing to steal. You know the Commandment says "Thou shalt not
+steal."'</p>
+
+<p>'Very true, Lady Anne,' said he, laughing. 'It would be a good thing for
+the world if we were all as innocent and as well disposed as you are. I
+will not argue the subject any further with you now, but I wish, by
+degrees, to bring you into our business, and when you will take things
+as well as us, you shall have half for yourself.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, sir,' I replied, 'I would sooner be as poor and as miserable as I
+was at Mr. Smith's than I would be a thief.'</p>
+
+<p>No more was at that time said on the subject, but Mr. Sharpley no longer
+made a secret of his evil practices, and I was sorry to observe that
+scarcely a day passed without his taking something from the people who
+bought of him. His wife, I do believe, if she had not been influenced by
+him, would have been very honest; indeed, I never knew her to take
+anything herself, and sometimes, when he laid his plunder before her,
+she would say:</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, James, I am afraid these tricks of yours will one day bring you to
+the gallows.'</p>
+
+<p>Several more weeks thus passed away, and I have no cause of complaint
+against them, except their taking other peoples' property, for they were
+good-natured, paid<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span> very honestly for everything they had at the inns,
+and often gave money to poor people they met on the roads.</p>
+
+<p>Often of an evening Mr. Sharpley would amuse himself with what he called
+a mock trial&mdash;that is, he would make believe he had been taken up for
+theft, and I was to be examined before a judge to see if I had assisted
+him or knew anything about it; then he sat as judge, and I was always to
+deny having any knowledge of the theft, and when I did not answer right
+Mrs. Sharpley said what I was to say. I always disliked these trials,
+and could never go through them without tears, for I was always afraid
+they would one day be a reality.</p>
+
+<p>The winter months passed away, and spring again returned. One day, in
+the month of April, as we were entering a large town, we were met by
+such a vast crowd of people that we were obliged to stand up against the
+houses to be out of the way while it passed. On Mr. Sharpley inquiring
+what was the matter, he was told it was a man going to be hung for
+privately stealing in a dwelling-house. My heart seemed to die within me
+when I heard the answer, for I thought that it would very likely one day
+be our own case. When we reached the inn where we were to dine, throwing
+myself into a chair I covered my face with a handkerchief and wept most
+bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>'What is the matter?' said Mr. Sharpley. 'Are you ill?'</p>
+
+<p>'No,' I replied; 'but that poor man was going to be hung. Oh, Mr.
+Sharpley, we may some day be taken up and be hung too. I do wish that
+you would be honest. Do not give me any more money, but keep it instead
+of stealing, and I have ten shillings that I will give you back again.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed, James,' said his wife, 'I wish you would leave<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span> off <i>taking</i>.
+When you read of trials and executions in the newspapers, and when we
+met that poor man to-day you don't know how I felt. I am very much
+afraid, as well as Lady Anne, that we shall come to an untimely end.'</p>
+
+<p>'You and Lady Anne are enough to drive a man mad,' replied her husband;
+'but, however, I will make this bargain with you both. Whenever it
+happens that I am taken up for theft, and am brought to within an inch
+of my life, so that there seems no chance of escaping, then, if any
+unforeseen circumstance arises and delivers me from the danger, then, I
+give you my word, I swear to you, that from that day forward I will be
+an honest man, and content myself with the profits of my trade.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then the sooner it happens the better,' said his wife, 'for I am sick
+of the life of jeopardy we lead.'</p>
+
+<p>One would have thought that from the dreadful example that passed before
+his eyes, and from what his wife said to him, that Mr. Sharpley would in
+some degree have left off his bad practices; but he did quite the
+contrary, and took more and more. Sometimes, after committing these
+thefts, we were obliged instead of keeping along the road to cross the
+fields and go for miles out of our way, and at night to sleep in
+outhouses or barns, that we might not be seen before Mr. Sharpley had
+come to some place where he could part with his stolen goods. On these
+occasions I was truly miserable, and I determined, in my own mind, that
+whenever we should travel near to London I would contrive to leave them,
+and go to Mrs. Williams, who, I doubted not, would get me some
+employment to enable me to live in an honest manner.</p>
+
+<p>Things went on in this way till the beginning of June, when one day, as
+we were passing a very fine park, we stopped to admire it. A broad
+avenue planted on each<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a></span> side with trees led up to the house, which was
+large and handsome.</p>
+
+<p>'We will go in there,' said Mr. Sharpley; 'perhaps we may have the good
+fortune to sell something.' He opened the gate, we entered, and walked
+up the avenue to the house. As we passed one of the parlour windows he
+peeped in, and said in a low voice:</p>
+
+<p>'There is nobody there, the cloth is spread for dinner, and there is a
+rare lot of plate.'</p>
+
+<p>With an aching heart I followed him up the steps to the hall-door; there
+he saw a woman servant, whom he began to persuade to look at some of his
+goods. She said she would call the lady's maid, who she thought would
+show some of the muslins and laces to the ladies upstairs. She then went
+away, using the precaution of locking the dining-parlour door, and
+taking the key with her. She soon returned with the lady's maid, the
+pack and our boxes were opened, the women picked out what they chose,
+and after inquiring the prices took them upstairs.</p>
+
+<p>'That is a clever girl,' said Mr. Sharpley; 'she has locked the door,
+but I rather think she has left the window open. I'll just take a peep.'</p>
+
+<p>He went out upon the lawn, and returned in less than five minutes,
+smiling and muttering to his wife:</p>
+
+<p>'The sooner those girls come down the better. We must not quit the park
+till they do come, for we might be seen from the upper windows, and they
+would send after and stop us.'</p>
+
+<p>I trembled so when I heard this speech that I could hardly stand, and I
+determined to leave them the very first opportunity that I could find.
+In about ten minutes they came down, and brought the money for what
+things the ladies had chosen. They then made several purchases<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a></span> for
+themselves, which Mr. Sharpley let them have at their own price. Our
+goods were then expeditiously packed up, and we left the park. We had no
+sooner reached the road than he told us we must cross over and go into
+the field on the opposite side, where we must keep along under the
+screen of the hedge till we came to some place where we could cross over
+to a further distance. We followed his directions, and, when on the
+other side, we were obliged, each of us, to tie a coloured handkerchief
+over our bonnets, which a little altered their appearance. Mr. Sharpley
+put on a waggoner's frock which he always carried in his pack, and thus
+disguised we proceeded forward.</p>
+
+<p>'We must go to a barn that I know of near N&mdash;&mdash;,' said Mr. Sharpley. 'It
+is about seven miles off; so, Lady Anne, you must walk stoutly; there we
+shall sleep. We must be up again by four in the morning, and go on to
+A&mdash;&mdash;; that is only five miles further, and will be a nice little walk
+before breakfast. There I know a man who will take my silver goods off
+my hands, and then we shall be all safe again.'</p>
+
+<p>I followed in silence, for talking to him I knew was of no use, and I
+was so disgusted at the life I was compelled to lead that I determined
+to escape as soon as I possibly could. About nine in the evening we
+reached the field where the barn was situated, where we were to sleep,
+but it being summer-time, and many people about, we sat ourselves down
+in a retired corner of the field to wait till night was farther
+advanced, and the country people retired to rest. There we had our
+supper, consisting of cold victuals and a glass of ale apiece, for Mr.
+Sharpley always carried provisions with him in a wallet, in case of
+accidents, he said. Into this wallet he had crammed the plunder that he
+had taken from the gentleman's house.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a></span> The shades of night every moment
+became darker, the dim figures of the countrymen, as they were returning
+to their homes, were seen less frequently, and the lights that gleamed
+from the cottage windows were by degrees all extinguished, but it was
+not until the clock of the neighbouring village had struck eleven that
+we dared to approach the barn, which we then did with cautious steps.
+Mr. Sharpley having found that the door was rather loose, pushed it so
+much aside as to admit us. We accordingly all entered; he replaced the
+board, and soon procured a light from a German matchbox that he always
+carried with him. He then emptied the wallet of the booty, which
+consisted of four large silver candlesticks, six table and six dessert
+spoons.</p>
+
+<p>'Now, Lady Anne,' said he, 'I must put these things into your box, for
+in case of a pursuit I and my pack will be the first they will seize and
+examine. You must, if possible, step on one side and throw these things
+away into a ditch or pond, or anywhere; for, if they are not found upon
+us, they will have some difficulty to prove me the thief.'</p>
+
+<p>I said very little, for I was determined this very night, when they
+should be asleep, that I would, if possible, make my escape from the
+barn and leave them for ever. Having arranged the things in my box, Mr.
+Sharpley locked it and returned the key to me, which I wore hung from my
+neck by a black ribbon.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>[<i>Lady Anne then ran away, but only to be caught by a policeman.</i>]<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>Chapter IX</h3>
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i396dc.jpg" width="146" height="150" alt="I" class="cap" />
+
+
+<p class="cap_2">I endeavoured to liberate myself from his grasp, and asked him who he
+was and what he wanted.</p></div>
+
+<p>'Pretty innocent!' said he. 'I suppose you really don't know.'</p>
+
+<p>'If you come from Mr. Sharpley,' said I, 'tell him I shall not live with
+him any longer. I mean to go to London.'</p>
+
+<p>'You will go with me first, my dear,' replied the man, 'and, as you will
+most likely see Mr. Sharpley this morning, you may tell him your message
+yourself; so come along.'</p>
+
+<p>'Where are you going to take me to?' said I, struggling to free myself
+from his hold.</p>
+
+<p>'I am going to take you to prison, where you will see your worthy
+friend, Mr. Sharpley. You will all be tried for your lives for the
+robbery you committed yesterday.'</p>
+
+<p>When I heard this, I no longer resisted, but walked on in silence,
+meditating on the wretched state to which we were all reduced by the
+dishonesty of Mr. Sharpley. When we entered the road I found, to my
+surprise, that I had in the gloom of the night retraced my steps, and
+was within a short distance of the house where the robbery had been
+committed.</p>
+
+<p>I was conducted into the town, which, in our hasty flight the day
+before, we had not dared to visit. I was then taken to the magistrate's
+house and locked up in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a></span> a room with a stone floor, grated windows, and
+no furniture but a wooden bench. There I was left for nearly two hours,
+and had full leisure to think over my melancholy situation. It appeared
+to me most likely that we should all be condemned to die, and when I
+thought of my past life&mdash;how very little I had known but sorrow&mdash;when I
+reflected that I had no relations to be sorry for my death, I thought
+that, if it was not for the disgrace of dying as a thief, I should not
+wish to live, but be glad to die, that I might be free from all the
+troubles of this world.</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of these reflections the man who had awakened me in the
+field opened the door and told me to come, for I was now going to be
+tried for my life. I instantly arose. He took me by the arm and led me
+into a large room, where there were a great many people assembled. Some
+were standing, and others sitting on benches. At the upper end of a
+large table sat a gentleman with a very severe countenance.</p>
+
+<p>From the description often given me by Mr. Sharpley of a justice-room I
+instantly concluded that this was one, and that the gentleman I saw was
+the justice. By his side sat another gentleman and some ladies. I heard
+the people near me whisper that they were the persons who had been
+robbed, and that they were come to swear to the things. I did not look
+at them more than merely to see that three persons were there, for in
+one corner of the room stood Mr. Sharpley and his wife, guarded by two
+men; and on the floor near the table was placed the pack and our two
+boxes.</p>
+
+<p>'All is over with us,' thought I, as I was led up to the table, which I
+found was called being put to the bar. I was then ordered to take off my
+hat, which I did, and the justice asked me what was my name.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[Pg 402]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Lady Anne,' I replied.</p>
+
+<p>A general laugh circled round the room.</p>
+
+<p>'What is your surname?' demanded the justice, with great severity.</p>
+
+<p>'I do not know,' answered I.</p>
+
+<p>I must here observe that these very short answers were such as, in our
+mock trials, Mr. Sharpley had taught me to give, for he said I must
+never say more than was necessary to answer the question asked.</p>
+
+<p>'What is your father's name?' with increased severity demanded the
+justice.</p>
+
+<p>'I do not know.'</p>
+
+<p>'What is the name you yourself generally go by?'</p>
+
+<p>'Lady Anne.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, Lady Anne, since that is the name you choose to be called, what
+are you to Mr. Sharpley?'</p>
+
+<p>'His servant.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you know for what reason you are brought here?'</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot say.'</p>
+
+<p>'Astonishing calmness!' said the justice in a low tone to the gentleman
+beside him. Then again addressing me: 'Lady Anne, you are accused of
+robbing, in conjunction with your master, James Sharpley, the Earl of
+Malbourne of various articles of plate. What do you say to this charge?'</p>
+
+<p>'I did not take anything myself,' replied I, 'nor did I see my master
+take anything.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is melancholy to see one so young in years so old in vice,' observed
+the justice. 'Who generally carries that small box?'</p>
+
+<p>'I do.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did you carry it yesterday?'</p>
+
+<p>'I did.'</p>
+
+<p>'Where is the key of it?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[Pg 403]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>I now with horror remembered that when I left the barn in the night I
+had forgot to take the key from my neck, and that it was still in my
+possession. With my eyes fixed on the ground, I remained silent. The
+question was angrily repeated.</p>
+
+<p>'I have it,' I falteringly answered.</p>
+
+<p>'Hand it over. We must see the contents of that box.'</p>
+
+<p>I attempted to obey, but the key had slipped so low into my bosom that
+it had somehow got fixed in the ribbon belonging to my father's picture,
+and I trembled so violently that I could not disentangle it without
+drawing the picture entirely out, and holding it in my hand while I
+disengaged the key. The keen eye of the justice instantly caught it.</p>
+
+<p>'What fine picture is that, set in gold and adorned with pearls?' said
+he. 'Hand it over, and let me look at it.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is my father's picture,' I replied; 'it is my own property, and I
+will not part with it to anybody.'</p>
+
+<p>'You must part with it to me,' said the justice. 'Hand it over
+immediately.'</p>
+
+<p>I slipped it within my stays and spread my hands over my bosom, while I
+replied:</p>
+
+<p>'It is my father's picture. It does not belong to anybody in the world
+but myself, and I will sooner die than part with it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Take it from her, Johnson,' said the justice.</p>
+
+<p>In vain I struggled. The man forced my hands from my bosom, and,
+catching hold of the ribbon, dragged the picture from me, and handed it
+to the justice. My misery was now complete&mdash;I could endure no more&mdash;and
+with a bitter scream I sunk to the ground in a swoon.</p>
+
+<p>How long my insensibility lasted I do not know; but when recollection
+returned I found myself supported in a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[Pg 404]</a></span> chair by a woman who was a
+spectator, and Johnson, the officer, was sprinkling me with water. It
+was some minutes before I could speak or stand, but, as soon as I could,
+I arose and earnestly entreated to have the picture restored to me.</p>
+
+<p>'Keep your seat, Lady Anne,' said the justice. 'If the picture is yours,
+it certainly shall be returned to you; but try to recollect yourself,
+and give me some account how it came into your possession.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is my father's picture,' I replied. 'My mother always wore it; and
+when she died a gentleman&mdash;Mr. Sanders, the clergyman of the
+parish&mdash;took care of it for me, and when I was sent to London he let me
+have it myself, that I might, if I should ever meet with my father, be
+able to know him. That is all I know. Now, pray, sir, let me have the
+picture again, for it is the only comfort I have in the world, and if
+you take it from me I shall die.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you not, then, child, know your father's name? Do you not know who
+he is?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, if I knew his name I should not be here; but I do not know his
+name, and I do not know who he is.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did you ever see him?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; but it is very long since. He went away when I was five years old,
+and I have never seen him since.'</p>
+
+<p>During these questions many heavy sighs had proceeded from some person
+near, but at my last answer that gentleman who was seated beside the
+justice rose up, and, coming round to me, took my hands, saying:</p>
+
+<p>'Look at me, my child, and tell me if you think you ever saw <i>me</i>
+before.'</p>
+
+<p>I did look at him; but, oh! how can I describe the astonishment and joy
+I felt when in his countenance I traced, though more advanced in life,
+the features of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[Pg 405]</a></span> that portrait that had so long been my greatest
+comfort? I sunk down before him, and, clasping his knees, exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>'Surely, surely, you are my father&mdash;you are my mother's dear Frederick!'</p>
+
+<p>Overpowered by my feelings, I again fainted. When I recovered, I found
+myself laid upon a sofa in a handsome apartment. One of the ladies whom
+I had seen in the justice-room was sprinkling me with water, another
+holding a vinaigrette to me, my father chafing my temples, and the
+justice standing near, looking on, not with the stern countenance he had
+before shown, but as if he really pitied me. I tried to rouse myself,
+and, as soon as I could speak, apologised to the ladies for the trouble
+I had given them.</p>
+
+<p>'Compose yourself, my dear,' said the elder of the two. 'To see you well
+is all we wish.'</p>
+
+<p>I was now able to sit upright. My father sat beside me, and, putting his
+arms around me, pressed me to his bosom. I leaned my head against him,
+and the tears rolled fast down my face; but they were no longer the
+chilling tears of sorrow I had long been used to shed, they were tears
+of joy and gladness at being restored to a kind father, to whom I had
+feared I was lost for ever. When he spoke, I seemed to recollect the
+tones of his voice; the scenes of my early childhood returned to my
+memory, and I asked him if he had not been used to call me his Annie and
+his little darling.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, my dear,' he replied, 'that I certainly did, But tell me, my
+child, by what miracle your life was preserved from the perils of the
+sea, and what was the final fate of your unfortunate mother.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear mother died at E&mdash;&mdash;,' I replied; 'but I do not know what you
+mean by the perils of the sea, for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[Pg 406]</a></span> I was never upon it that I know of
+in my life; and now, my dear father, tell me why you went away and left
+us, and has the Earl forgiven you yet?'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! my child,' said my father, with a deep sigh, 'I see that we have
+each a tale to tell, but it must be deferred till your spirits are more
+composed. And now, Sir Robert,' turning to the justice, 'I can only
+apologise for the great trouble we have given you this morning.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear lord,' replied the justice, whose name was Sir Robert Eldridge,
+'accept my warmest congratulations on the happy discovery of your
+daughter; and to you, Lady Anne, I beg leave to return the portrait of
+your father, which has fortunately been the means of your being restored
+to his protection.'</p>
+
+<p>A few more compliments having passed, we were departing, when Sir Robert
+said:</p>
+
+<p>'What is your lordship's pleasure respecting the Sharpleys? Shall I
+remand them to prison for another examination?'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear father,' said I, 'for my sake have pity on Mr. Sharpley and his
+wife, for indeed they have been very kind to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'If they have been so, my child,' replied my father, 'I shall certainly
+show them lenity, but I wish first to hear your story, and then I shall
+know how to proceed. So, Sir Robert, if you will please to detain these
+people till to-morrow, I shall esteem it a favour.'</p>
+
+<p>We then took our leave, and returned home in my father's carriage, and
+was soon conveyed to that house where the day before I had stood as a
+poor little pedlar, but which I now entered as the only child of the
+Earl of Malbourne.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[Pg 407]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 404px;">
+<img src="images/i403.jpg" width="404" height="600" alt="Lady Anne finds her father.&mdash;Page 405." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><i>Lady Anne finds her father.&mdash;Page 405.</i></span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[Pg 409]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>We proceeded to the drawing-room, and my father then informed me that
+the lady who had shown me so much kindness was his sister, Lady Caroline
+Beaumont. The young lady, who appeared about thirteen, was my cousin,
+Miss Beaumont; and another young lady, who seemed about eleven, was also
+my cousin, Miss Ellen Beaumont.</p>
+
+<p>Refreshments were now brought, and my father and aunt, when they
+understood that I had been up the whole night, insisted that I should go
+to bed, and try to get a little rest before dinner, which I did, and in
+about two hours arose very much refreshed.</p>
+
+<p>In the course of the evening I gave my father and new-found relations a
+circumstantial detail of everything that had happened to me as far back
+as I could remember. When I gave the account of my mother's death at the
+inn they were affected even to tears.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh! how unfortunate was I to be out of England at that time,' said my
+father; 'and how cruel was my father by his resentment and ambition thus
+to occasion the death of the most amiable of women. But proceed, my
+child, with your melancholy story, and afterwards I will tell you mine,
+and explain circumstances of which you seem to have some recollection.'</p>
+
+<p>I accordingly went on, and finished my narrative, by which time it was
+so late, and I was so much exhausted, that my father said he would defer
+his narration till the following day.</p>
+
+<p>My aunt and cousins were extremely kind to me, and, when I retired to
+bed, I was furnished with night-clothes from Miss Beaumont's wardrobe.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>[<i>On the next day the Sharpleys, on their promising never to steal
+again, were released, and later Sir Robert told Lady Anne the story of
+her life.</i>]</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>'It is a painful story, my dear child,' said he; 'and I must spare your
+feelings by relating it as briefly as I can.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[Pg 410]</a></span> Your mother was of a very
+good family, and, during the earlier part of her youth, her parents were
+in affluence.</p>
+
+<p>She was a boarder at the same school as my sister Caroline; and, by
+frequently going to see my sister, I became acquainted with Miss Norman,
+and was sincerely attached to her before I thought that I felt more for
+her than a common friendship. This, in some respects, was an unfortunate
+circumstance, for my father, who was then Earl of Malbourne, wished me
+to marry a lady of high birth and large fortune; but she was of such a
+disagreeable imperious temper that I could not endure the thought of
+passing my life with her.</p>
+
+<p>'When Miss Norman was a little turned of seventeen, her mother died, and
+she went home to live with her father. I still visited her in company
+with my sister, for I hoped that my father would, at some time, consent
+to my marrying her. About a year after this, her father engaged in some
+mercantile business that failed; he was also very much defrauded by his
+agents, so that, from being what might be called a rich man, he was
+suddenly reduced to poverty. This sad change in his affairs affected him
+so much that he fell ill. I was grieved to my heart to see him in such a
+state, and to see Miss Norman pining, as it were, to death.</p>
+
+<p>'I was certainly old enough to choose a wife for myself, for I was
+twenty-five, had a handsome estate, and was then major of a regiment. I
+had often told my father that I could never marry Lady Clara Froward,
+for that I was attached to another lady, and only wished for his consent
+to marry her. That, said my father, I never should have, for that he
+would never consent to my marrying anybody but Lady Clara Froward.</p>
+
+<p>'I had waited a long time in the hope that he would change his mind, but
+he did not; and, when I saw Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[Pg 411]</a></span> Norman and his daughter in such
+distress, I determined not to wait any longer, but offered my hand to
+your mother, and urged her father to consent to the marriage. It was a
+long time before he would agree to it; but, finding his health every day
+worse, he gave his consent, and we were married.</p>
+
+<p>'A few days afterwards I informed my father of our marriage, and
+entreated him to receive my amiable wife as his daughter. He wrote me
+word that I had married without his consent, he disowned me as his son,
+and would never receive either me or my wife.</p>
+
+<p>'This determination was the subject of regret to us all; but we lived in
+hopes that time would soften his resentment, and that in the end he
+would relent. About two months after our marriage Mr. Norman died; and,
+after the funeral, I and my wife removed to a house I had in Piccadilly,
+near the park. There we lived very happily for a length of time; my
+sister, who had been bridesmaid to your mother, frequently came to see
+us; there you were born, and my sister was one of your godmothers. The
+reason of your being called Lady Anne was entirely owing to a whim of
+your maid's, for at that time you had no right to the title of Lady; but
+she said you would soon have, and that she should call you so now, that
+she might be used to it; and, from her continually calling you so, it by
+degrees became a general custom, not only with our own family, but also
+with our visitors.</p>
+
+<p>'Time passed away very happily till you had just completed your fifth
+year, when I received orders to join my regiment, which was going upon
+foreign service. It is needless to say anything of the deep grief that
+your mother and I felt on this occasion. We parted, and I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[Pg 412]</a></span> went abroad
+in the hope that I should return again in a few months.</p>
+
+<p>'Two or three letters passed between your mother and me after my
+departure, when they suddenly ceased on her side. Unable to account for
+this strange silence, I wrote to my sister, entreating her to write
+immediately, and inform me if anything had happened. I soon received her
+answer, which informed me that my father, taking advantage of my
+absence, had unfortunately thought proper to pay a visit to your mother,
+and reproach her in the most cruel manner for having married me. Your
+dear mother was so terrified that it made her very ill.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh!' said I, interrupting my father, 'I remember it. The Earl was a
+tall, thin, old gentleman; and he was in such a passion that my dear
+mother fainted away on the ground, and a servant, I think her name was
+Sally, came and helped her up, and brought her to her recollection
+again.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear child, you are quite right,' said my father, holding his
+handkerchief to his eyes; 'that unfortunate visit was the cause of all
+the misery that has since befallen us. Your mother, being fearful of
+receiving such another visit, soon after the Earl was gone, sent Sally
+out to take lodgings for her in a private street, to which she removed
+the same evening, attended only by Sally and another woman servant. She
+then wrote an account of all that had passed to my sister (who was
+married to Sir Henry Beaumont), and concluded her letter by saying that
+she should continue in privacy in those apartments till my return, as
+she dreaded a repetition of the Earl's visit if she remained in
+Piccadilly. A few days after she had been in these lodgings she saw the
+Earl pass by on the other side of the street, accidentally he has since
+assured me it was. The idea<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[Pg 413]</a></span> instantly seized her that he was searching
+for her, and, not knowing what might be the consequences should he
+discover her retreat, she determined to leave England and come over to
+Holland to me. She wrote a few lines to my sister, telling her of her
+fears and determination, and that she intended to take her passage in a
+packet from H&mdash;&mdash;. That very day a post-chaise was sent for. She would
+not allow Sally to accompany her; but, taking you for her only
+companion, and a few clothes in a small trunk, she set out on her
+melancholy journey. No letter has since been received from her, and my
+sister had hoped and believed she was with me in Holland.</p>
+
+<p>'On the receipt of this distressing intelligence, I made every possible
+inquiry to ascertain the fate of my beloved wife and child; and, after
+some days, had the misery to hear that the hull of a packet had been
+found floating at sea keel upwards. Its name and port were legibly
+painted upon it, and on inquiry it was found that this very packet had
+left H&mdash;&mdash; two days after your mother's departure from London, and, none
+having sailed for some days before, no doubt could be entertained but
+that your mother and you had been lost at sea. What misery was mine! How
+often did I wish that I had been with you, and that we had all been
+buried in the same watery grave! When the campaign was ended I returned
+to England, and resigned my commission. My grief was so great that I
+believed I should have lost my senses had it not been for the kindness
+of my sister and Sir Henry, who obliged me almost by force to reside
+with them. My father, too late repenting of his cruelty, and shocked at
+the dreadful calamity it had occasioned, sought a reconciliation with
+his wretched son. I shall not dwell upon the particulars of the
+distressing interview that passed between us; we were reconciled, but my
+father could never forgive himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[Pg 414]</a></span> for the misery his ambition had
+occasioned. Our firm belief that your mother and you had been lost at
+sea prevented our making any inquiries by land, and we were too much
+absorbed by grief to read the newspapers, so that we never saw the
+advertisements that you say were inserted. Since that time, my dear
+child. I have passed a very unhappy life. I have several times been on
+the Continent on government business. When in England, I reside chiefly
+with my sister and brother-in-law. Your uncle, Sir Henry, is at present
+at Vienna, and, during the time of his absence, your aunt and two
+cousins are staying with me. These, my dear, are the principal
+circumstances of my life.</p>
+
+<p>'I will now say something of the events of yesterday. When my servants
+told me of the robbery committed by the pedlar there appeared to me so
+much ingratitude as well as roguery in the transaction, for the man had
+taken more than ten pounds in money for his goods, that I determined to
+let the law take its course with respect to him, and my servants were at
+the justice's to swear to the things; but the description the two women
+servants gave me of you interested your aunt and me very much in your
+favour, and we thought that if you were so young and innocent as they
+represented you to be it would be a deed of kindness to rescue you from
+the guardianship of such people, and it was for that purpose that we
+attended.</p>
+
+<p>'When you were led forward to the bar the great resemblance you bear to
+your mother instantly struck me, and when in tones so dear, and so
+familiar to my ear you said that your name was Lady Anne, my agitation
+was extreme, though still without thinking it possible that you could be
+my daughter, but when at last my own portrait was produced, and you
+declared it to be your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[Pg 415]</a></span> father's, then I thought it possible that your
+life might have been preserved, and I whispered Sir Robert, for I was
+too much agitated to question you myself, to inquire particularly how it
+had come into your possession. To what a happy discovery did that
+examination lead. My child is restored to me, and I am happier than I
+ever expected to be again in this world.'</p>
+
+<p>My father tenderly embraced me at the conclusion of his narrative, so
+did my aunt and cousins, with many kind expressions of joy at my being
+restored to my family.</p>
+
+<p>'Your likeness to your mother is very great,' said my aunt. 'She was my
+chosen friend at school from the time she came to it, which was when she
+was twelve years old. In features, in voice, you are as like what she
+was at your age as if you were the same person.'</p>
+
+<p>In the course of the evening my father told me that in a few days, when
+I should have had a proper assortment of clothes made up for me, it was
+his intention to make a tour.</p>
+
+<p>'We will go to town,' said he, 'again, and pay a visit to all those
+people who have been your friends, and even those who have been
+otherwise. I intend to go to those cruel people in the Borough. A few
+words of proper admonition may be of service to them, and induce them to
+treat another poor child with more humanity. And to Mrs. Williams,
+honest Davis, and that good man Joseph we must show our gratitude by
+deeds as well as words.'</p>
+
+<p>About a week after this we went to town, and soon after paid a visit to
+Davis's cottage. We knocked at the door, which was opened by Mrs. Davis,
+who seemed surprised at so many fine people coming to her cottage, and
+asked, 'What was our pleasure?' My father told her that he was come to
+thank her for the kindness she had shown to a little friendless girl who
+went by the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[Pg 416]</a></span> name of Lady Anne, and whom he had lately discovered to be
+his daughter. She looked astonished, but, fixing her eyes upon me,
+instantly recollected me, and burst into a flood of tears.</p>
+
+<p>'Do not cry, Mrs. Davis,' said I, for I was grieved at seeing her weep.
+'I do sincerely thank you, for you were very kind to me till just the
+last.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, Lady Anne,' said she, 'I have never been happy since I sent you
+away. My husband was dreadfully angry with me, and I don't believe he
+has forgiven me yet. He said that I had turned an orphan out of doors,
+and that it would bring ill luck upon our heads, and so it proved, for
+about a week after Mr. Freeman himself caught Susan as she was filling
+her pockets with plums, and discharged her instantly. Luckily Phoebe had
+none in her pocket, and Tom they knew to be an honest boy, so they two
+escaped, but we had a world of trouble with Susan, for, as she had lost
+her character, we could hardly get her a place at all, but at last a
+woman in the village who takes in washing agreed to take her. There she
+has a great deal of work to do for very little money, but she is
+determined to be honest, and to stay there for a year that she may
+recover her character, and then we hope that she will do better, but it
+grieves me to the heart to think that I encouraged her to bring the
+fruit home, for if I had scolded her for it at the first, she would have
+left it off, and might now have been at Mr. Freeman's.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, my good woman,' said my father, 'you seem so sensible of your
+error, both with respect to encouraging your daughter in dishonesty, and
+your ill-treatment of mine at the last, that I shall say nothing further
+to you on the subject, but thank you for the kindness you did show to my
+child during the greater part of the time she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[Pg 417]</a></span> was with you. Now I wish
+to see your husband. Is he here or gone to town?'</p>
+
+<p>'He is at the garden, sir, for Richard and the women quarrelled about
+the money that they took, and at last one of them told Mr. Freeman of
+the tricks they played, so Richard and some of the women were
+discharged, and the rest had such a lecturing that I don't believe there
+is now a creature in the garden would dare to take so much as a
+gooseberry from it, but my husband is there a good deal to look after
+them, for Mr. Freeman says he shall not trust them too far.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah,' said my father, 'you see that honesty is still the best policy.
+Well, I wish you good-day, and hope you will continue in your good
+resolutions.'</p>
+
+<p>I shook hands with the poor woman, and we then proceeded to Mr.
+Freeman's gardens. The door being open we entered. Mr. Joseph soon
+appeared, and came up to us with a bow.</p>
+
+<p>'We would look at your greenhouses,' said my father. 'I wish to choose
+some plants.'</p>
+
+<p>Joseph looked at me with a doubting, curious look, but without uttering
+any observation, and led the way to the nearest greenhouse. We looked at
+the plants, and my cousins took occasion to address me by my title. At
+this Joseph again gazed very earnestly at me, and hesitatingly said:</p>
+
+<p>'I beg pardon, but this young lady is so like a child that used to be
+here last summer, and went by that name, that I could almost swear she
+was now before me.'</p>
+
+<p>'And so she is, my good man,' replied my father, 'and I am come to thank
+you for the kindness you showed to her.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well now,' said Joseph, 'this is the most joyful day<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[Pg 418]</a></span> that I have seen
+for this long time. To see the little drooping rose transplanted into
+its own garden was more than I ever expected, but I am glad to my heart
+that it has happened, and, Lady Anne, forgive the freedom of an old man
+when I say that I loved you as if you had been one of my own
+grandchildren, and had I known how uncomfortable you were at Davis's you
+should have been removed into the family of one of my own daughters, who
+lives near, and she would have treated you as one of her own children;
+but you see all things happen for the best, for by your being turned out
+of doors, as it were, you have discovered your father, and are much
+better off than ever we could make you.'</p>
+
+<p>We all very cordially shook hands with this honest good man, and my
+father compelled him to accept of a handsome present.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Freeman was in town, so my father left his compliments and thanks to
+him for having given me employment, and ordered plants to the amount of
+twenty pounds to be sent to his house in Piccadilly. We went to a
+different part of the garden in quest of Davis and his son Tommy. We
+soon found them, and, on making myself known to the father, the poor man
+could not forbear shedding tears, and said he should be ashamed as long
+as he lived to think how I had been turned out of his cottage. My father
+begged him not to think of it any longer, for that we did not, and it
+was with difficulty that he prevailed on him to accept a present which
+Davis said he did not deserve, and that it was like a reproach to him.</p>
+
+<p>'Say no more, I beg of you,' said my father; 'my daughter can only think
+of the kindness you showed her, and we shall always remember it with
+gratitude.'</p>
+
+<p>Little Tommy, as soon as he felt convinced that I was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[Pg 419]</a></span> the same Lady
+Anne that used to live in their cottage, took my hand, kissed it, and
+said he would make me a prettier box than I had ever seen, for that he
+made them much better now than when I lived with them. I gave the little
+fellow a guinea, and I gave his sister Phoebe five shillings, for though
+I did not entertain any resentment against her, yet I did not think it
+would be just to give her as much as her brother, who had always been
+kind to me, and was an honest boy. We then took leave of them, and
+returned to town.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning, after breakfast was over, my father ordered the
+carriage, and we drove to Covent Garden to pay a visit to Mrs. Williams
+and her family. When we arrived at the Garden I led the way to the shop,
+and found her and her two daughters busy in setting out the fruit and
+flowers. I asked her the price of some of them, and though she answered
+me as a stranger, yet I saw that she looked at me very earnestly, but
+her daughter Jane, having observed me, whispered to her mother:</p>
+
+<p>'I am sure that is the little girl that we took in who was in such
+distress; I am positive it was her.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Williams again looked at me very intently. I smiled, and said:</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, Mrs. Williams, I am that poor child that you were so kind as to
+take in and feed and clothe.'</p>
+
+<p>'Bless your sweet face,' said she, 'and so you are; and have you found
+your friends, and is your father living?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, my good friend,' replied my father, 'I am that happy father, and
+can never be sufficiently grateful to you for befriending my poor child
+when she was almost dying of cold and hunger.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Williams made many exclamations of joy and surprise at the happy
+change that had taken place in my situation. We all entered the shop,
+and, seating<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[Pg 420]</a></span> ourselves as well as we could, my father gave her a slight
+detail of the circumstances that had brought me to his knowledge. We
+stayed with her nearly an hour, and, before leaving the shop, my father
+obliged her to accept of bank-notes to the amount of a hundred pounds.
+We then returned to the carriage, and my father ordered the coachman to
+drive to D&mdash;&mdash; Street in the borough.</p>
+
+<p>'For,' said he, 'we will now go and make our acknowledgment to Mr. Smith
+and his wife, for I think it is as proper to reprove them for their
+barbarity as to reward those who have treated you with kindness.'</p>
+
+<p>When we arrived at the street I pointed out the house, but it was now in
+a different business. We entered the shop, and on inquiring for Smiths,
+were told that they had been gone away for some time, for that the
+husband had given himself up to drinking, and the wife to gambling till
+they were involved in debt to everybody that would trust them; and at
+last they had moved away in the night without paying anyone, and it was
+not known where they were gone to.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is very well,' said my father, 'these people by their bad management
+and ill conduct have brought a punishment upon themselves. I shall not
+seek for them any further. It is not my wish to reproach those who are
+fallen into distress, and that, I think, is likely to be their present
+state.'</p>
+
+<p>We then returned home, and my father informed us that it was his
+intention, in the course of two or three days, to take a longer journey,
+which would give us much pleasure and also much pain.</p>
+
+<p>'For,' said he, 'we will go to E&mdash;&mdash;. I wish to visit Mr. Sanders and
+your good nurse, and to go to the grave of your dear mother. She must
+not lie there; I must have her removed and laid in our family vault at
+Malbourne.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[Pg 421]</a></span> Though so cruelly separated from her during my life, yet one
+tomb shall contain us at our death.'</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Conclusion.</span></h4>
+
+<p><i>Mr. Sanders was very happy to know that Lady Anne had found her father,
+and the Earl gave him a living worth two hundred pounds a year. He also
+provided for Nurse Jenkins and her children, and reprimanded the
+overseers of the workhouse, but made a present to the parish for the
+benefit of the poor children. Some time later the reformed Sharpleys
+called at Sir Robert's house, and being now honest pedlars, were
+liberally patronized.</i></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[Pg 422]</a></span></p>
+<h2>Captain Murderer</h2>
+
+
+<div class="drop">
+<img src="images/i417dc.jpg" width="153" height="150" alt="C" class="cap" />
+
+
+<p class="cap_2">Captain Murderer's mission was matrimony, and the gratification of a
+cannibal appetite with tender brides. On his marriage morning he always
+caused both sides of the way to church to be planted with curious
+flowers; and when his bride said, 'Dear Captain Murderer, I never saw
+flowers like these before; what are they called?' he answered, 'They are
+called garnish for house-lamb,' and laughed at his ferocious practical
+joke in a horrid manner, disquieting the minds of the noble bridal
+company with a very sharp show of teeth, then displayed for the first
+time. He made love in a coach-and-six, and married in a
+coach-and-twelve, and all his horses were milk-white horses with one red
+spot on the back, which he caused to be hidden by the harness; for the
+spot <i>would</i> come there, though every horse was milk-white when Captain
+Murderer bought him. And the spot was young bride's blood. (To this
+terrific point I am indebted for my first personal experience of a
+shudder and cold beads on the forehead.) When Captain Murderer had made
+an end of feasting and revelry,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[Pg 423]</a></span> and had dismissed the noble guests, and
+was alone with his wife on the day month after their marriage, it was
+his whimsical custom to produce a golden rolling-pin and a silver
+pie-board. Now, there was this special feature in the Captain's
+courtships, that he always asked if the young lady could make pie-crust,
+and if she couldn't by nature or education, she was taught. Well, when
+the bride saw Captain Murderer produce the golden rolling-pin and silver
+pie-board, she remembered this, and turned up her laced-silk sleeves to
+make a pie. The Captain brought out a silver pie-dish of immense
+capacity, and the Captain brought out flour and butter and eggs and all
+things needful, except the inside of the pie. Of materials for the
+staple of the pie itself the Captain brought out none. Then said the
+lovely bride: 'Dear Captain Murderer, what pie is this to be?' He
+replied: 'A meat pie.' Then said the lovely bride: 'Dear Captain
+Murderer, I see no meat.' The Captain humorously retorted: 'Look in the
+glass.' She looked in the glass, but still she saw no meat, and then the
+Captain roared with laughter, and suddenly frowning and drawing his
+sword, bade her roll out the crust. So she rolled out the crust,
+dropping large tears upon it all the time, because he was so cross, and
+when she had lined the dish with crust, and had cut the crust all ready
+to fit the top, the Captain called out: '<i>I</i> see the meat in the glass!'
+And the bride looked up at the glass, just in time to see the Captain
+cutting her head off; and he chopped her in pieces, and peppered her,
+and salted her, and put her in the pie, and sent it to the baker's, and
+ate it all, and picked the bones.</p></div>
+
+<p>Captain Murderer went on in this way, prospering exceedingly, until he
+came to choose a bride from two twin sisters, and at first didn't know
+which to choose;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[Pg 424]</a></span> for, though one was fair and the other dark, they were
+both equally beautiful. But the fair twin loved him, and the dark twin
+hated him, so he chose the fair one. The dark twin would have prevented
+the marriage if she could, but she couldn't. However, on the night
+before it, much suspecting Captain Murderer, she stole out and climbed
+his garden-wall, and looked in at his window through a chink in the
+shutter, and saw him having his teeth filed sharp. Next day she listened
+all day, and heard him make his joke about the house-lamb. And that day
+month he had the paste rolled out, and cut the fair twin's head off, and
+chopped her in pieces, and peppered her, and salted her, and put her in
+the pie, and sent it to the baker's, and ate it all, and picked the
+bones.</p>
+
+<p>Now, the dark twin had had her suspicions much increased by the filing
+of the Captain's teeth, and again by the house-lamb joke. Putting all
+things together when he gave out that her sister was dead, she divined
+the truth, and determined to be revenged. So she went up to Captain
+Murderer's house and knocked at the knocker and pulled at the bell, and
+when the Captain came to the door, said: 'Dear Captain Murderer, marry
+me next, for I always loved you, and was jealous of my sister.' The
+Captain took it as a compliment, and made a polite answer, and the
+marriage was quickly arranged. On the night before it the bride again
+climbed to his window, and again saw him having his teeth filed sharp.
+At this sight she laughed such a terrible laugh at the chink in the
+shutter that the Captain's blood curdled, and he said: 'I hope nothing
+has disagreed with me!' At that she laughed again&mdash;a still more terrible
+laugh&mdash;and the shutter was opened and search made, but she was nimbly
+gone, and there was no one. Next day they went to church in a
+coach-and-twelve and were married. And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[Pg 425]</a></span> that day month she rolled the
+pie-crust out, and Captain Murderer cut her head off, and chopped her in
+pieces, and peppered her, and salted her, and put her in the pie, and
+sent it to the baker's, and ate it all, and picked the bones.</p>
+
+<p>But before she began to roll out the paste she had taken a deadly poison
+of a most awful character, distilled from toads' eyes and spiders'
+knees, and Captain Murderer had hardly picked her last bone when he
+began to swell, and to turn blue, and to be all over spots, and to
+scream. And he went on swelling and turning bluer, and being more all
+over spots and screaming, until he reached from floor to ceiling and
+from wall to wall; and then, at one o'clock in the morning, he blew up
+with a loud explosion. At the sound of it all the milk-white horses in
+the stables broke their halters and went mad, and then they galloped
+over everybody in Captain Murderer's house (beginning with the family
+blacksmith, who had filed his teeth) until the whole were dead, and then
+they galloped away.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">WELLS GARDNER, DARTON AND CO., LTD., LONDON<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h4>Illustrated by A. G. Walker</h4>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">A Book of Ballad Stories</span></h3>
+
+
+<h4>Selected and Edited by MARY MACLEOD</h4>
+
+<h4>With Introduction by EDWARD DOWDEN</h4>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 243px;">
+<img src="images/i421top.jpg" width="243" height="299" alt="&#39;Beyond it rose a castle fair" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;Beyond it rose a castle fair<br />
+Y-built of marble stone;<br />
+The battlements were gilt with gold,<br />
+And glittered in the sun.&mdash;p. 129.
+</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>'<i>Miss Mary Macleod has succeeded admirably in keeping much of the
+spirit of the originals in her prose versions of the best of the old
+ballads.</i>'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Truth</span>.</p>
+
+<p>'<i>Should take a high place. In this work the famous ballads have been
+done into prose so skilfully, and have been so artistically illustrated,
+that it forms a volume to be highly prized.</i>'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Standard.</span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 445px;">
+<img src="images/i421bottom.jpg" width="445" height="350" alt="&#39;She stoutly steered the stots about.&#39;&mdash;p. 110." title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;She stoutly steered the stots about.&#39;&mdash;p. 110.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Large crown 8vo. printed on superfine paper, cloth boards.</i></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h4>Illustrated by Gordon Browne</h4>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Fairy Tales from Grimm</span></h3>
+
+
+<h4>With Introduction by</h4>
+
+<h3>S. BARING GOULD</h3>
+
+<p>'<i>Of new editions of old favourites the palm must be given, we think, to
+this collection of Fairy Tales from Grimm.... We do not think a better
+edition has appeared.</i>'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Review of Reviews.</span></p>
+
+<p>'<i>No more acceptable edition of some of Grimm's Stories has been
+published.</i>'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Standard.</span></p>
+
+<p>'<i>Altogether delightful. The illustrations are full of charm and
+sympathy.</i>'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Saturday Review.</span></p>
+
+<p>'<i>A fairy book beyond reproach.</i>'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Graphic.</span></p>
+
+<p>'<i>Grimm is always delightful, but in his present new dress he is more
+delightful than ever. Mr. Gordon Browne charms us always with his dainty
+pictures.</i>'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Guardian.</span></p>
+
+<p>'<i>All the illustrations are simply inimitable.</i>'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Queen.</span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 336px;">
+<img src="images/i422.jpg" width="336" height="450" alt="&#39;The Prince who was afraid of Nothing.&#39;&mdash;p. 216." title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;The Prince who was afraid of Nothing.&#39;&mdash;p. 216.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><i>Large crown 8vo. printed on superfine paper, cloth boards.</i></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h4>Illustrated by Gordon Browne</h4>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Fairy Tales from Hans Andersen</span></h3>
+
+<h4>Introduction</h4>
+
+<h3>By EDWARD CLODD</h3>
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 208px;">
+<img src="images/i423top.jpg" width="208" height="300" alt="Reduced facsimile of cover." title="" />
+<span class="caption">Reduced facsimile of cover.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><b>Large Crown 8vo. printed on superfine paper, fancy cloth boards, gilt
+top 6s.; calf 10s. 6d.</b></p>
+
+<p>'<i>The illustrations leave nothing to be desired.</i>'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Standard.</span></p>
+
+<p>'<i>This is really a seasonable for all Christmases.</i>'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Punch.</span></p>
+
+<p>'<i>A delightful gift for children.</i>'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Times of India.</span></p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/i423bottom.jpg" width="400" height="247" alt="From &#39;The Ugly Duckling.&#39; p. 110." title="" />
+<span class="caption">From &#39;The Ugly Duckling.&#39; p. 110.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Wells Gardner, Darton, &amp; Co., Ltd., London</span></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h4>Illustrated by Gordon Browne</h4>
+
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Stories from Froissart</span></h3>
+
+<h4>By</h4>
+
+<h3>HENRY NEWBOLT,</h3>
+
+<h4><i>Author of 'Admirals All.' &amp;c.</i></h4>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 215px;">
+<img src="images/i424top.jpg" width="215" height="250" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 146px;">
+<img src="images/i424bottom.jpg" width="400" height="146" alt="&#39;The four knights view the English host.&#39;&mdash;p. 26." title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;The four knights view the English host.&#39;&mdash;p. 26.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>'<i>A really fine book, and effectively illustrated. Mr. Newbolt has done
+his work well, and Mr. Gordon Browne has illustrated the book
+delightfully.</i>'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Outlook.</span></p>
+
+<p>'<i>There never was a better story-book than Froissart.</i>'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Athen&aelig;um.</span></p>
+
+
+<p><b>Large crown 8vo. printed on superfine paper, cloth boards.</b></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Wells Gardner, Darton, &amp; Co., Ltd., London</span></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h4>Illustrated by F. C. Pap&eacute;</h4>
+
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Children of the Dawn</span></h3>
+
+<h4>OLD TALES OF GREECE</h4>
+
+<h3>By ELSIE FINNEMORE BUCKLEY</h3>
+
+
+<h4>With Introduction by ARTHUR SIDGWICK</h4>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/i425top.jpg" width="400" height="142" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>'<i>For a child whose eyes are just opening to beauty, and whose
+imagination is ready to be kindled by a spark from any torch, we can
+think of few more delightful or enduring gifts than this book, with its
+immortal themes and its graceful interpretation in our time and tongue.
+The illustrations by Mr. F. C. Pap&eacute; deserve praise.</i>'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Morning Leader.</span></p>
+
+<p>'<i>Told with rare good taste and judgment.</i>'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Daily Telegraph.</span></p>
+
+<p>'<i>Cannot fail to instruct as well as interest not only children, but
+schoolboys and schoolgirls who have begun the study of the old Greek and
+Roman poets. To such students a knowledge of these stories is
+invaluable. In every respect the book is an excellent one.</i>'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Dundee Courier.</span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 281px;">
+<img src="images/i425bottom.jpg" width="281" height="400" alt="&#39;Each night Hero lighted her torch.&#39;&mdash;p. 117." title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;Each night Hero lighted her torch.&#39;&mdash;p. 117.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Large crown 8vo. printed on superfine paper, cloth boards.</i></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h4>Illustrated by Gordon Browne</h4>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/i426top.jpg" width="400" height="238" alt="&#39;And your experience makes you sad?&mdash;p. 152." title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;And your experience makes you sad?&mdash;p. 152.</span>
+</div>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">The Shakespeare Story Book</span></h3>
+
+<h3>By MARY MACLEOD</h3>
+
+<h4>With Introduction By SIDNEY LEE</h4>
+
+<p>'<i>Mr. Sidney Lee, a quite unimpeachable authority, strongly recommends
+this new volume, for which indeed Miss Mary Macleod's literary
+reputation will commend a favourable hearing. This new rendering has
+been very well done. Mr. Gordon Browne's illustrations add another charm
+to a very attractive book.</i>'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Spectator.</span></p>
+
+<p>'<i>Miss Mary Macleod has followed the plot more closely than Mary and
+Charles Lamb, and a charming book of stories is the result.</i>'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Truth.</span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 311px;">
+<img src="images/i426bottom.jpg" width="311" height="450" alt="&#39;Some have greatness thrust upon them.&#39; p. xiv." title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;Some have greatness thrust upon them.&#39; p. xiv.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Large crown 8vo. printed on superfine paper, cloth boards.</i></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h4>Illustrated by Hugh Thomson</h4>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Tales of the Canterbury Pilgrims</span></h3>
+
+<h4>RETOLD FROM CHAUCER AND OTHER WRITERS</h4>
+
+<h3>By F. J. HARVEY DARTON</h3>
+
+<h4>With Introduction By Dr. F. J. FURNIVALL</h4>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/i427bottom.jpg" width="250" height="350" alt="&#39;The cow ran, the calf ran, and even the very hogs
+trotted.&#39;&mdash;p. 122." title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#39;The cow ran, the calf ran, and even the very hogs
+trotted.&#39;&mdash;p. 122.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p><b>Large 8vo. printed on superfine paper, cloth boards gilt top, 7s. 6d.</b></p>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Wells Gardner, Darton, &amp; Co., Ltd., London</span></p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Forgotten Tales of Long Ago, by E. V. Lucas
+
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+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Forgotten Tales of Long Ago, by E. V. Lucas
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Forgotten Tales of Long Ago
+
+Author: E. V. Lucas
+
+Illustrator: F. D. Bedford
+
+Release Date: May 3, 2009 [EBook #28679]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FORGOTTEN TALES OF LONG AGO ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by D Alexander, Josephine Paolucci and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+FORGOTTEN TALES OF LONG AGO.
+
+SELECTED BY E. V. LUCAS
+
+WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY F. D. BEDFORD
+
+3 PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS. LONDON 44 VICTORIA STREET
+
+E. C. WELLS, GARDNER, DARTON & CO. LTD. S.W.
+
+
+C & D Co.
+
+_Fourth Impression, July, 1931._
+
+PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN
+
+WELLS GARDNER, DARTON AND CO., LTD.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration:
+
+    For me the backward glance; for me
+      The tales of old simplicity.
+    And this would be my dearest choice:
+    To hear them in the mother's voice.]
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+In the present volume will be found twenty stories from early writers
+for children, the period being roughly 1790 to 1830, with three later
+and more sophisticated efforts added. Having so recently made remarks on
+the character of these old books--in the preface last year to
+_Old-Fashioned Tales_, a companion volume to this--I have very little to
+say now, except that I hope the selection will be found to be
+interesting. If it is not, it is less my fault than that of the authors,
+who preferred teaching to entertaining, moral improvement to drama. The
+pendulum has now perhaps swung almost too far the other way; but such
+things come right.
+
+My first story, 'Dicky Random,' is from a little book published in 1805,
+entitled _The Satchel; or, Amusing Tales for Correcting Rising Errors in
+Early Youth, addressed to all who wish to grow in Grace and Favour_. On
+the title-page is this motto:
+
+    'Put on the cap, if it will fit,
+    And wiser grow by wearing it.'
+
+There is no author's name. I do not consider the story of Dicky a very
+brilliant piece of work, but it has some pleasing incidents, not the
+least of which is the irreproachable behaviour of the gentlemen at
+dinner. Dicky's father comes out as hardly less foolish than his son,
+which is not common in these books. To call a doctor Hardheart seems to
+me to have been a courageous thing. The sentence, 'The boy's father,
+though a labouring man, had a generous mind,' would help us to date the
+story, even without the evidence of the title-page. It is astonishing
+for how long the poor had to play a degraded part in minor English
+literature.
+
+In another story in the book, called 'Good Manners their own Reward,' I
+find this sentence, which contains an idea for a children's manual that
+certainly ought to be written, under the same title too: 'Master Goodly
+not long after this had the pleasure of seeing a small book printed and
+circulated among his juvenile acquaintance, called "The Way to be
+Invited a Second Time."'
+
+We pass next to a little work of pretty fancy, 'The Months,' which by
+its ingenuity I hope makes up for want of drama. I have included it on
+that ground, and also because if the descriptions were read aloud in
+irregular order to small children, it might be an agreeable means of
+encouraging thought and observation if the listeners were asked to put a
+name to each month. 'The Months' comes from a book published in 1814
+entitled _Tales from the Mountains_, the mountains being those dividing
+England from Wales. A story in the same volume which I nearly included
+has the promising style 'The Spotted Cow and the Pianoforte,' but its
+matter is not equal to its title. It is, indeed, a variation upon a very
+old theme, being the narrative of two girls of equal age who, coming
+into a little prosperity, at once gratify old desires: one, the
+exemplary one, wishing a useful cow, and the other, the frivolous one, a
+piano. The author, in the old remorseless way, contrasts their
+subsequent careers, nothing but happiness and worth falling to the
+sensible girl who chose the cow, and nothing but disaster dogging the
+steps of the foolish desirer of the musical instrument. I do not think
+this to be good working morality, since proficiency on the piano can
+also be a step towards a livelihood and independence, and even Madame
+Schumann, one supposes, had to make a start somehow. The name of the
+author is not known.
+
+Probably no story in this collection had more popularity in its day than
+'Jemima Placid,' of which I use only a portion. And I think it deserved
+it, for it is very pleasantly and sympathetically written, and a better
+understanding of home prevails than in so many of these old books.
+Jemima's brothers seem to me very well drawn, and certain minor touches
+lend an agreeable air of reality to the book. The author's name is, I
+believe, not known. His preface, which I quote here, is very sensible.
+Considering the date, say about 1785, it is curiously sensible and
+discerning:--
+
+     'It has been often said that infancy is the happiest state of
+     human life, as being exempted from those serious cares and that
+     anxiety which must ever in some degree be an attendant on a
+     more advanced age; but the author of the following little
+     performance is of a different opinion, and has ever considered
+     the troubles of children as a severe exercise to their patience
+     when it is recollected that the vexations which they meet with
+     are suited to the weakness of their understanding, and though
+     trifling, perhaps, in themselves, acquire importance from their
+     connection with the puerile inclinations and bounded views of
+     an infant mind, where present gratification is the whole they
+     can comprehend, and therefore suffer in proportion when their
+     wishes are obstructed.
+
+     'The main design of this publication is to prove from example
+     that the pain of disappointment will be much increased by
+     ill-temper, and that to yield to the force of necessity will be
+     found wiser than vainly to oppose it. The contrast between the
+     principal character with the peevishness of her cousins' temper
+     is intended as an incitement to that placid disposition which
+     will form the happiness of social life in every stage, and
+     which, therefore, should not be thought beneath anyone's
+     attention or undeserving of their cultivation.'
+
+'Jemima Placid' is one of the many stories in which the names are
+symbolical. We have another example in 'Dicky Random,' and, I suppose,
+in 'Captain Murderer' too, while in 'Prince Life,' to which we soon
+come, which is frankly an allegory, the habit is carried beyond Bunyan,
+who made his attributes very like men and called them Mr. or Lord to
+increase the illusion or diminish the cheat. The drawback to this kind
+of nomenclature is that it weakens the realism of the story. It also
+perplexes one a little when one thinks of later generations. Jemima's
+two brothers, for example, would marry one day, and their children would
+necessarily be called Placid too. But would they be placid? And was Mr.
+Piner's father a piner? It is even more perplexing when the name carries
+a calling as well, as in Farmer Wheatear, and Giles Joltem, the carter,
+and Mr. Coverup, the sexton, in the old story of _Dame Partlet's Farm_.
+Suppose Mr. Joltem's son had become a chauffeur, with rubber tyres? Or
+could he? If not, these names must have immensely have simplified the
+question 'What to do with our boys?'
+
+It is hardly necessary to say that the books which Jemima took back with
+her from London (on page 46), and which gave such pleasure, were all
+published by the same firm that issued her own history. This was a
+system of advertisement brought to perfection by Newbery of St. Paul's
+Churchyard. It is so very artless and amusing that one is sorry it has
+died out.
+
+For the 'Two Trials' I have gone to a little work entitled _Juvenile
+Trials for telling Fibs, robbing Orchards, and Other Offences_, 1816,
+from which, via _Evenings at Home_, I borrowed a story for _Old
+Fashioned Tales_. The book is anonymous. Surely such schoolboys and
+schoolgirls never were on sea or shore; but that does not matter. In the
+old books one did not look for reality.
+
+I have included 'Prince Life' for two reasons. Partly because it seems
+to me not bad of its kind, although far from being as good as 'Uncle
+David's Nonsensical Story' in the _Old-Fashioned Tales_, and partly
+because I thought it interesting to show what kind of stories historical
+novelists write for their own families--for 'Prince Life' was written in
+1855 for his little boy by G. P. R. James, the author of _The Smuggler_,
+_Richelieu_, _Darnley_, and scores of other romances. Allegories, I
+must confess, are not much to my taste; but I have so frequently found
+that what I like others dislike, and what I dislike others like, that I
+include 'Prince Life' here quite confidently. It has given Mr. Bedford
+material for a good picture, anyway.
+
+'The Farmyard Journal,' which follows, is not dramatic, but it has
+plenty of incident, and is included here to foster the gift of
+observation. I found it in a favourite and very excellent and wise old
+book, _Evenings at Home_, by the strong-minded Aikins--a kind of work
+which it grieves one to think is outgrown not only by the readers of
+children's books, but by their writers too.
+
+'The Fruits of Disobedience,' which comes next, follows ordinary lines,
+and is chiefly remarkable for its busy clergy. I included it because the
+topic of kidnapping is one of which I think every collection of old
+stories for children should take notice. In every book of this nature at
+least one child's face must be stained with walnut juice. The story is
+from the anonymous _Tales of the Hermitage, written for the Instruction
+and Amusement of the Rising Generation_, 1778.
+
+'The Rose's Breakfast,' also anonymous, is one of the many imitations of
+Roscoe's _Butterfly's Ball_, about which the English reading public so
+strangely lost its head in 1808. I never considered this a good story,
+but now that I see it in its new type on the fair page of the present
+volume, I am amazed to think I ever marked it for inclusion at all. It
+seems to me poverty-stricken in fancy and very paltry in tone, the idea
+of making beautiful flowers as mean-spirited as trumpery men and women
+can be being wholly undesirable. It is too late to take it out,
+especially as Mr. Bedford has drawn a very charming picture for it, but
+I hope it will remain only as an object-lesson. Possibly its badness may
+incite someone to write a better, and that would be my justification.
+One interesting thing about it is the light it throws on the change of
+fashion in garden flowers.
+
+'The Three Cakes' is from an English translation of the great Monsieur
+Berquin's _L'Ami des Enfants_--the most famous children's book in
+France. Armand Berquin, who, in addition to his own stories, translated
+_Sandford and Merton_ into French, was born in 1750 and died in 1791.
+His _L'Ami des Enfants_, 1784, was in twelve small volumes, and it
+covered most of the ground that a moralist for the young could cover in
+those days. It is more like Priscilla Wakefield's _Juvenile Anecdotes_,
+to which we are coming, on a larger scale, than anything I can name; but
+no imitation, for M. Berquin came first. The idea of 'The Three Cakes'
+was borrowed from M. Berquin by the Taylors for their _Original Poems_,
+and Mary Howitt borrowed it too, also for rhyming purposes. French
+writers when they have tried seriously to interest children, have been
+very successful. I know of few better stories than that which in its
+English translation is called _Little Robinson of Paris_; but it is a
+long book in itself, and could not be condensed for our purposes. While
+on the subject of French stories I may refer to 'The Bunch of Cherries,'
+on page 242 of this volume, which is also French, and comes from a work
+called in the English translation _Tales to My Daughter_. I include it
+for its quaint _naivete_, and also for its lesson of gratitude and
+minute thoughtfulness. But it was a sad oversight (not too explicable in
+a French romance) not to make Augustus marry the Green Hat.
+
+I included 'Amendment,' from _The Little Prisoners; or, Passion and
+Patience_, 1828, because its idea is an attractive one. There is always
+something engaging, not by any means only to the youthful mind, in the
+idea of a complete change in the conditions and surroundings of one's
+life. That is why so many of us want to be gipsies. The book is
+anonymous.
+
+'Scourhill's Adventure' is from an amusing book called _The Academy_,
+which, for all I know, is the first real boy's school-book ever written.
+Its companion is _The Rector_, and together they describe, with no
+little spirit and reasonableness, a school a hundred years ago, with all
+the escapades and errors of the boys and all the homilies of the
+schoolmaster. I like the episode of Scourhill as well as any because of
+the pleasant interior which it contains--Scourhill's home, with the
+noisy old gentlemen, a little like a scene in Marryat. The books are not
+worth reprinting, in the way that _Lady Anne_ (to which we draw near) is
+worth reprinting; but they are worth looking at if they ever chance to
+fall one's way.
+
+We come next to 'The Journal' from _Juvenile Anecdotes founded on Facts;
+Collected for the Amusement of Children_, 1803, by Priscilla Wakefield.
+A hundred years ago Mrs. Wakefield's books for the nursery (which, if
+its literature is a guide, was in those days less of a nursery than a
+conventicle) were in every shop. She poured them forth--little rushing
+streams of didacticism. The present work, from which, for its
+quaintness, I have chosen 'The Journal,' is a kind of Ann and Jane
+Taylor in very obvious prose. Little girls having spent their
+half-crowns on themselves, at once meet members of the destitute class,
+and, having nothing to give them, are plunged into remorse; little boys
+creeping into the larder to steal jam, eat soft soap by mistake and
+never are greedy again; and so forth. All the conventional images and
+morals are employed. The whole book is one long and emphatic division of
+sheep from goats. 'The Journal' is not perhaps exciting, but it reflects
+the quieter family life of a century ago, and incidentally portrays the
+thorough governess of that day.
+
+Priscilla Wakefield was a Quaker, the great-granddaughter on her
+mother's side of Barclay of Ury, who wrote the _Apology_. She had a
+famous niece, Elizabeth Fry, and a famous grandson, Edward Gibbon
+Wakefield, the colonist. She was born in 1751 and died in 1832; wrote,
+as I have said, many instructive books for the young; and was one of the
+original promoters of savings banks for the people.
+
+'Ellen and George; or, The Game at Cricket' is from an old friend,
+_Tales for Ellen_, by Alicia Catherine Mant, from which I took, for _Old
+Fashioned Tales_, the very pretty history of 'The Little Blue Bag.' I
+do not consider 'Ellen and George' as good as the 'Little Blue Bag,' and
+I should not be surprised if I discovered on a severe analysis of motive
+that it was included here more for its cricket than its human interest.
+But it has a certain sweetness and naturalness too. Ellen's very
+sensible question (as it really was) on page 184, 'Then why don't you
+send the cat away?' is one of the first examples of independent--almost
+revolutionary--thought in a child recorded by a writer for children in
+the early days. To say such a thing to a mother eighty years ago was
+indeed a feat. For the most part children then were to accept all that
+was said to them by their elders as fact, and neither meditate nor utter
+criticism. The principal difference between the children of those days
+and the children of these is their present liberty of criticism. To-day
+every child has his own opinion; a hundred years ago none had.
+
+Some of the remarks on page 186 will divert the young readers of to-day,
+when girls know as much about cricket (and sometimes play as well) as
+boys do. I must confess to much perplexity as to what part could be
+played in the manufacture of wickets by George's hammer and nails. Runs
+were called notches at that time because the scorer cut notches on a
+stick. Wilson's good nature has, I fear, found its way more than once
+into the first-class game--at least, I remember that a full toss on the
+leg side went to Mr. W. G. Grace when he had made ninety-six towards his
+hundredth hundred; and quite right too. When it comes, however, to
+throwing down one's bat and flinging the ball at a batsman (as George
+did), there is no excuse to be offered. I have omitted the end of the
+story, in which Mr. Danvers condescends to take a hand at the game, in a
+match against George and Tom Fletcher (who made it up), and beats them
+by a narrow margin of notches. According to the author he had been in
+his youth a fine bat, but this statement has been cruelly discredited by
+the artist who illustrated the book, and who placed the gentleman in an
+attitude (or 'stance,' as they say now), and gave him a grip on the
+handle, from which nothing but ridicule and disaster could result. Mr.
+Bedford is not like this. Mr. Bedford is one of those rare artists who
+read a story first.
+
+Of 'Waste Not, Want Not' it is unnecessary to speak. It is one of the
+best of the stories in Miss Edgeworth's _Parent's Assistant_, most
+entertaining of books with dull names. I have my doubts as to whether
+Benjamin was not too much encouraged above Hal, but that has nothing to
+do with the story.
+
+We come now to comedy and to farce. 'The Fugitive' I found in an odd
+little book by a Miss Pearson called _A Few Weeks at Clairmont Castle_,
+1828; while 'The Butcher's Tournament' is from Peter Parley. I read this
+story when I was quite a child, and it always remained in my memory, and
+for several years of late I have kept up a desultory search for it. I
+could not, therefore, having chanced upon it in _Peter Parley's Annual_
+for 1843, omit it from this volume. The author's name is not given, but
+I suppose that William Martin wrote it--under the influence of Douglas
+Jerrold, I should say.
+
+For 'Malleville's Night of Adventure' I have gone again to Jacob Abbott,
+from whom last year I took 'Embellishment.' The story is a chapter or
+two of _Beechnut_, best of the Franconia books. Later the author changed
+the name Malleville, which certainly is not beautiful, to Madeline; but
+I have left it here as in the original edition. There seems to be no
+middle way with Jacob Abbott: you must either think him the flattest of
+writers for children, or the most interesting. So many of my earliest
+recollections are bound up with Phonny and Beechnut that I shall always
+think of Jacob Abbott with enthusiasm. But the heretics in this matter I
+can understand, although pitying them too.
+
+For looking through the scores and scores--I might, I believe, say
+hundreds--of books from which to select the twenty stories within these
+covers, I should consider myself amply rewarded by the discovery of
+_Lady Anne_. This story--I might almost say this novel--which is at
+once the longest and, to my mind, the best thing in the present volume,
+is anonymous. All that I know of the author is that she--I take it to be
+a woman's work--wrote also _The Blue Silk Hand-bag_, but of that book I
+have been able to catch no glimpse. In order to bring _Lady Anne_ into
+this collection I have had here and there to condense a few pages, but I
+have touched nothing essential: the sweet little narrative is only
+shortened, never altered. _Lady Anne_ was first published in 1823.
+
+With 'Captain Murderer,' which ends the book, we come to another story
+by a novelist, this time a man of genius, Charles Dickens. The agreeably
+gruesome trifle occurs in the essay in _The Uncommercial Traveller_ on
+'Nurses' Stories,' and it was told to the little Dickens by a dreadful
+girl named Sarah, who chilled him also with the dark history of Chips,
+the ship's carpenter, and the rat of the Devil. The story of Chips is
+better than the story of Captain Murderer, but I do not care for the
+responsibility of laying it before you. The Captain may be held to be
+forbidding enough, but he is, all the same, well within the nursery's
+traditions of acceptable villainy, being only a variant upon Bluebeard
+and the giant who fed upon bread made with the bone-flour of Englishmen;
+whereas the story of Chips introduces infernal elements and makes rats
+too horrible to be thought about. So I feel; but if anyone complains of
+the grimness of the Captain I shall have, I fear, only a very poor
+defence.
+
+                                                    E. V. L.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                                              PAGE
+
+Dicky Random; or, Good-Nature is nothing without Good
+Conduct; Anon.                                                  1
+
+The Months; Anon.                                              15
+
+Jemima Placid; or, The Advantage of Good-Nature; Anon.         23
+
+Two Trials: I. Sally Delia; Anon.                              48
+           II. Harry Lenox; Anon.                              58
+
+Prince Life; by G. P. R. James                                 72
+
+The Farm-Yard Journal; by the Aikins                           90
+
+The Fruits of Disobedience; or, The Kidnapped Child; Anon.     98
+
+The Rose's Breakfast; Anon.                                   114
+
+The Three Cakes; by Armand Berquin                            128
+
+Amendment; Anon.                                              136
+
+Scourhill's Adventures; Anon.                                 162
+
+The Journal; by Priscilla Wakefield                           172
+
+Ellen and George; or, The Game at Cricket; by A. C. Mant      181
+
+Waste Not, Want Not; or, Two Strings to Your Bow; by Maria
+Edgeworth                                                     204
+
+The Bunch of Cherries; Anon.                                  242
+
+The Fugitive; by Miss Pearson                                 256
+
+The Butcher's Tournament; by Peter Parley                     275
+
+Malleville's Night of Adventure; by Jacob Abbott              297
+
+The Life and Adventures of Lady Anne; Anon.                   320
+
+Captain Murderer; by Charles Dickens                          422
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+                                                               PAGE
+
+Off it went, knocked him backwards, and shivered a beautiful
+mirror                                                           7
+
+The lambs frisk about her                                       17
+
+Ellen went a dozen times in the day to look at her new cap      37
+
+'I was reading, and was interrupted by Henry Lenox and
+three others talking over a secret'                             65
+
+The Prince slays the monster with a hundred horrible heads      87
+
+She kicked up her hind legs and threw down the milk-pail        91
+
+Cut her beautiful hair close to her head                       103
+
+The sweet Misses Lilies of the Valley could not be tempted
+from their retreat                                             121
+
+'I will play you all the pretty tunes that I know, if you
+will give me leave'                                            133
+
+Had not the gardener, who then came up, taken him in his
+arms, and carried him into the house, in spite of his
+kicking and screaming                                          143
+
+Every boy ... joined in the pursuit, and every cottage
+poured out its matrons and children and dogs                   165
+
+George was despatched to desire one of the servants to
+bring a basket, in which we carried the poor sufferer          177
+
+Hither Ellen accompanied him to see the wickets completed      187
+
+'Oh, what an excellent motto!' exclaimed Ben                   207
+
+'The everlasting whipcord, I declare'                          239
+
+'The happiness of sharing with others that which we possess
+enhances the value of its enjoyment'                           245
+
+'There he goes!'                                               263
+
+Knights in armour tumbled over their own steeds, donkeys
+ran snorting about, ladies shrieked                            293
+
+Wherever the feather passed it changed the surface of the
+water into ice                                                 303
+
+The arrival at the inn                                         325
+
+The Flight over London Bridge                                  351
+
+Lady Anne finds her father                                     407
+
+
+
+
+Forgotten Tales of Long Ago
+
+Dicky Random
+
+or
+
+Good-nature is nothing without Good Conduct
+
+    'In festive play this maxim prize--
+    Be always merry--always WISE!'
+
+
+'Do you know what hour it is when you see a clock?' said Mr. Random to
+his little son Richard.
+
+'Yes, father,' said Richard; 'for I can count it all round. When both
+hands are at the top of the clock, then I know it is time to leave
+school.'
+
+'Then go and see what time it is,' said his father.
+
+Away ran Richard, and brought back word in a moment that it was exactly
+six o'clock.
+
+In a few minutes after came in a friend with a young lady, the former of
+whom asked Mr. Random why he was not ready to go with them to the
+concert that evening, as he had promised. Mr. Random replied that it
+was but six o'clock, which, however, he was soon convinced was a mistake
+of Richard's, who, on being asked what he saw when he looked on the
+clock, replied, 'I saw the two hands together close to the six, and that
+made me say it was six, for I always call it twelve when they are right
+opposite.'
+
+'Remember, my dear,' said his father, 'that the long hand never tells
+the hour, except on the stroke of twelve. You ought to know that the
+minute hand overtakes its fellow somewhat later every hour, till at noon
+and midnight they again start exactly even; and when a bigger boy I
+shall expect you to tell me how much difference is increased every time
+they come into conjunction. You now see, Dicky, that through such a
+mistake I must make my friends wait; pray, therefore, mind better
+another time.'
+
+In a few minutes after his father bid him go into the dining-room, and
+bring down a bottle of wine, which stood in the _hither_ corner of the
+cellaret, that he might help the gentleman and lady to a glass.
+
+'Yes, father,' said little Dick, and up he went. On the stairs he met
+puss, and stopped to play with her, during which he forgot what had been
+told him. Having gotten a bottle, downstairs he came, and, pouring out a
+couple of glasses, he returned with it. But, when on the landing-place,
+he naughtily drew out the cork to have a taste himself. It was not only
+very vulgar to drink out of the neck of a bottle, but wrong to make free
+slily with that which he was merely entrusted to serve out. However, it
+rushed so fast into his mouth, and was so hot, that he was afraid of
+being strangled. It happened that he had bitten his cheek that morning,
+and the liquor bathing the sore place made it smart so that he put down
+the bottle on the floor, when, in stamping about, it rolled downstairs
+and made a fine clatter. His father ran out on hearing the noise, but
+was stopped in the way by seeing the young lady almost gasping for
+breath, and it was some minutes before she could say that he had given
+her brandy instead of wine.
+
+Mr. Random next proceeded upstairs, where little Dick was picking up the
+pieces of broken glass, in doing which he cut a deep gash in his hand.
+
+'Where did you take the bottle from?'
+
+'Out of the _farther_ side of the cellaret,' said Dicky.
+
+'I told you to take it from the _hither_ side,' replied Mr. Random.
+'But, however, you shall smart for your neglect: what remains of the
+brandy will serve to bathe your hand, and I hope the pain will make you
+reflect that the loss is the same to me, whether you spilt it from
+design or inattention.'
+
+He one day made his mother look very simple at table, for which he
+deserved to have suffered much more than her good nature required. Young
+Random was to have a grand rout in the evening with some of his little
+favourites. A few nice tarts, custards, etc., had been made in the
+morning for the occasion, and had been most temptingly baked in the
+forenoon.
+
+It happened that two gentlemen called on Mr. Random about two o'clock,
+and he insisted upon their staying to dinner; in consequence of which
+his lady had the pastry removed from the sideboard to the china-closet.
+
+All children must frequently have heard their mothers say, when they
+wish to have anything saved for another occasion, 'My friends, you see
+your dinner before you; I hope you will consider yourselves at home and
+not spare.' This is always thought to be a sufficient excuse for not
+bringing anything of another sort to table.
+
+When the meat was nearly done with, Mrs. Random made the above remark
+to her visitors, who declared that nothing more was requisite. She then
+bid the servant put the cheese on the table.
+
+'What, mother,' said Richard, 'is there nothing else?'
+
+'No, my love,' said his mother; 'I am sure you want nothing more.'
+
+'Why, yes, mother. Where are the tarts and custards you put into the
+closet?'
+
+'Surely you dream?' said his mother.
+
+'No, I don't, indeed,' replied Dicky. 'You put them away directly the
+gentlemen said they would stay to dine, and observed what a deal of
+trouble visitors do give.'
+
+Anyone will easily believe that this made Mrs. Random look very
+confused. She hardly knew what to reply, but she turned it off in the
+best manner she could, and said:
+
+'It is you, Richard, who trouble me more than the visits of my friends.
+I am happy to see them always, but on some days more than others.
+To-day, you know, we have been preparing for _your_ company, and
+therefore the reserve I have kept would not have been made but on your
+account. The pastry was intended for _your_ visitors, and not your
+father's. However, if you are such a child that you cannot wait till
+night, they shall be brought to table now; but, remember, I will not
+order any more to be made, and you shall provide for your playmates out
+of the money put by to purchase the magic-lantern and the books.'
+
+Richard looked quite down when he heard this sentence, and more so when
+he saw the pastry placed on the table.
+
+Dear me, how soon had the tarts and custards disappeared, if one of each
+had been served round to the company! But the gentlemen were too polite
+even to taste them, and father and mother declined eating any.
+Richard's sister said she could very well wait till supper; hence they
+were all saved. But Dicky was afterwards very severely taken to task for
+speaking out of time, when he was not spoken to.
+
+When evening came, and the little visitors were assembled, Richard, who
+had seen some of the sports at a country fair, would show his dexterity
+to amuse his young party. He took up the poker, and, supposing it to be
+a pole, performed some imitations. But, unable long to preserve it
+upright from its weight, the sooty end fell on Master Snapper's book,
+who was reading a little work upon 'Affability.' The blow fairly knocked
+it out of his hand, and made a great smear on his frilled shirt, at
+which a loud laugh ensued. Now Master Snapper could not bear to be
+laughed at, and was so much out of humour all the evening that he would
+not play.
+
+Little Dick never once, all this time, thought that if it had fallen on
+his playfellow's toe, it might have lamed him, and he would at least
+have had to carry him a pick-a-back home; nor did he think who was to
+have paid the doctor; but, pleased with the mirth he had made, he went
+upstairs and fetched down one of the pistols which his father kept in a
+private drawer. Then, pulling in his rocking-horse, he fancied he was
+one of the Light Horse, and mounted it to show the sword exercise, and
+how he could shoot a Frenchman or a Turk at full gallop. He had no
+business with a rocking-horse or a pistol among young ladies, but he
+never thought if it were proper or not, and much less if the pistol were
+loaded.
+
+While he was going on a full canter, he gave the words, 'Present! fire!'
+and off it went, knocked him backwards, and shivered a beautiful mirror
+into a thousand pieces. Oh, what a sad scene of confusion ensued! Some
+of the young ladies screamed out with fright. Miss Timid, knocked down
+by Dicky in falling backwards, lay on the ground bleeding at the nose.
+Some were employed in picking up the pieces of glass, or pinning their
+handkerchiefs over the fracture, to prevent its being seen while they
+stayed; but such a hope was vain.
+
+The noise brought Mr. and Mrs. Random and all the servants upstairs, who
+too soon found out the havoc that had been made, and demanded how it
+happened. All the children would willingly have screened Dicky, because
+they knew he had not done it to frighten, but to amuse them. Master
+Snapper, however, now thinking it was his turn, in a very ill-natured
+speech made the worst of the story. But the spiteful way in which he
+spoke did little Dick no harm, as he seemed more rejoiced at his
+misfortune than sorry for Mr. Random's loss; hence it had the effect not
+to increase the latter's anger.
+
+'Playing with balancing poles and pistols,' said Mr. Random in a stern
+accent to his son, 'is very well in a proper place, but quite
+inadmissible in a room full of company. Now, sir, what business had you
+to take this pistol out of my room?'
+
+'Indeed, father,' said Dicky, crying, 'I did not know it was loaded.'
+
+'It is but last week,' continued his father, 'that you were told never
+to take such a thing without asking, and not even then till someone had
+tried if it were loaded. So many accidents have happened with firearms
+which have been supposed not to be loaded, that he who unguardedly
+shoots another ought to take a similar chance for his own life; for you
+know the Scripture says: "An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth."
+Think, Richard, that if I had been standing before the mirror, what
+would have been the consequence. You would have shot your father! Your
+mother would have died of grief, and you and Letitia have been
+orphans!'
+
+[Illustration: _Off it went, knocked him backwards, and shivered a
+beautiful mirror.--Page 5._]
+
+'Ah, then I should have died too!' said Dicky, wiping the tears from his
+eyes with the back of his hand. 'But how came you to load the pistol
+last night, father?'
+
+'Because,' replied his father, 'I thought I heard something fall in the
+parlour, and the passage-door being directly after shut to in a still
+manner. I loaded the pistols, thinking that thieves had broken into the
+house, and pushed up the sash to shoot the first that came out.'
+
+'Then it was lucky,' said Richard, 'I did not come out again, or you
+might have killed me; for I got up in the night to let Juno out of the
+shed, where I had tied her up, and she was making a sad howling. Indeed,
+before I was aware, she ran into the parlour, and, as it was quite dark,
+I tumbled over her.'
+
+'And broke the geranium-tree,' added his father.
+
+'Yes, I did indeed,' said Dicky, 'but I did not go to do it. After that
+I turned Juno into the yard, and this I dare say is all the noise you
+heard.'
+
+'There is an old saying, my dear little friends,' said Mr. Random,
+'which I wish you to attend to, because it has a great deal of truth in
+it: "_The pitcher that goes often safe to the well may come home broken
+at last._" And so, though the thoughtless and giddy may go on for a long
+while without danger, it will overtake them sooner or later. Here is a
+strong instance of escape from the consequences which might have
+attended Richard's thoughtlessness; besides which, his mother could get
+no more sleep all night, and I, after running the risk of catching cold
+in searching over the house, have this morning been at the expense of
+new fastenings to the doors and windows. The next time, however, you
+rise, Richard, to alarm the family, you shall in future roost with the
+hens or bed in the stable.'
+
+Dicky now thought that his parent's resentment had subsided, and, upon
+the latter's calling to him to come, he sprang across the room with the
+greatest alertness; but how suddenly was his smile cast down when Mr.
+Random, taking his hand, ordered him to wish his young friends much
+mirth and a good appetite, while he was going to be punished for his
+misconduct. At once were all their little hands put out to prevent Mr.
+Random's resolution of taking him away, but all their petitions were in
+vain. Richard was forced into an empty cellar, and left with no other
+companion than a glimmering rush-light. Here he was told he might do as
+much mischief as he pleased. The iron bars kept him from getting out on
+one side, and the door was padlocked on the other. In this dilemma he
+marched round and round, crying, with his little candle, and saw stuck
+on the walls the following lines:
+
+    '_Empty caves and commons wild
+    Best befit a thoughtless child,
+    A solid wall, an earthen floor,
+    Prison lights, a padlock'd door,
+    Where's no plaything which he may
+    Turn to harm by random play,
+    For in such sport too oft is found
+    A penny-toy will cost a pound.
+    Be wise and merry;--play, but think;
+    For danger stands on folly's brink._'
+
+After having been kept in confinement nearly half an hour, Mr. Random
+could no longer resist the pressing solicitations of his son's guests,
+who declined partaking of the supper till Richard was returned to them.
+
+Having learned the above lines by heart, he repeated them to his young
+company, and, on his promising to remember their contents, he was
+permitted to sit down to table.
+
+The rest of the evening was spent in innocent cheerfulness, and for some
+time after little Random played with more caution.
+
+We must omit many of the less important neglects of young Random, such
+as letting the toast fall in handling it, shooting his arrow through the
+window, riding a long stick where it might throw persons down, leaving
+things in the way at dark, etc., and proceed to relate a good-natured
+fancy of his which tended, more than any of the preceding events, to
+show him the folly of taking any step without first looking to what it
+might lead.
+
+In Mr. Random's garden was a fine tall pear tree, and that year a very
+fine pear grew on the topmost twig. His mother and sister had several
+times wished for the luscious fruit, but it seemed to bid defiance to
+every attack that was not aided by a tall ladder. 'Oh!' thought Dicky,
+'if I can get it down and present it to my mother, how pleased she will
+be!' So, when he was alone, he picked out some large stones and threw at
+it, but without any success. The next day he renewed his attack in the
+evening, and to insure a better chance employed several large pieces of
+brick and tile.
+
+Now all these dangerous weapons went over into a poor man's garden,
+where his son and some other boys were weeding it. One of them fell upon
+the little fellow's leg, and cut it in so desperate a manner that he
+cried out, quite terrified at the blow and sight of the blood. The other
+boys directly took the alarm, and picking up some stones as large as
+that which had done the mischief, they mounted on a high bench, and
+discharged such a well-directed volley at the person of Master Random
+that he was most violently struck upon the nose, and knocked backwards
+into a glass cucumber-frame.
+
+Here he lay in a most pitiable condition, calling upon his mother, while
+the wounded boy on the other side joined in the concert of woe.
+
+'Oh, it served you rightly!' exclaimed the young assailants, who were
+looking over the wall, and ran away as soon as they saw Mr. Random come
+into the garden to inquire the cause of the uproar.
+
+His first concern was to carry Dicky indoors, and then, having wiped
+away the blood and tears, he asked him how it happened.
+
+'I was only trying to get a pear for my mother,' said Richard, 'when
+these boys threw stones at me, and hit me!'
+
+'That was very cruel,' said his father, 'to meddle with you when you
+were doing nothing to them, and if I can find them out they shall be
+punished for it.'
+
+Mr. Random immediately set off to the next house, but was met at his own
+door by the father of the wounded boy, who was coming with him in his
+arms to demand satisfaction. This brought the whole truth out, and the
+artful little fellow was found to have concealed a part of the real
+case. Instead of saying 'he was only getting a pear,' he should have
+said that he was throwing large stones at the topmost pear on the tree,
+and that every stone went over the wall, he could not tell where.
+
+'Ah, Richard,' said his father, 'it is little better than story-telling
+to conceal a part of the truth. The affair now wears quite a new face.
+It was you that gave the first assault, and will have to answer for all
+the bad consequences. It is my duty to see that this unoffending boy is
+taken care of; but if his leg be so cut or bruised that he cannot get so
+good a living when he comes to be a man as he might otherwise have
+done, how would you like to make up the deficiency? You cannot doubt
+that he has a demand upon you equal to the damage you may have done to
+him. He is poor, and his father must send him to the hospital, but it
+would be unjust of me to suffer it. No, on the contrary, I shall prevent
+this by taking him home and sending you there, where Dr. Hardheart makes
+his patients smart before he cures them. Come, get ready to go, for
+delays in wounds of the head are not to be trifled with.'
+
+Mr. Random then ordered the servant to go for a coach, in which Dicky
+most certainly would have been sent off had not word been brought back
+that there was not a coach on the stand. During this time Dicky had
+fallen on his knees, entreating that he might remain at home, and
+offering promises to be less heedless in future; nay, he was willing to
+yield up all his toys to the maimed little gardener.
+
+The boy's father, though but a labouring man, had a generous mind; he
+wanted nothing of this kind, but only wished him to be more cautious in
+future, as the same stones, thrown at random, might have either blinded
+his son or fractured his skull, instead of merely hurting his leg. Mr.
+Random then insisted on Richard's giving him half-a-crown, and asking
+pardon for the misfortune occasioned by his carelessness.
+
+This heavy sum was directly taken out of the hoard which had been laid
+by for the purchase of a set of drawing instruments, but he had a yet
+heavier account to settle with his father for damaging the
+cucumber-frame. He had broken as much of it as would come to fifteen
+shillings to mend, and as payment was insisted on, or close confinement
+until the whole was settled, he was compelled to transfer to his father
+all his receipts for the ensuing five months before he could again
+resume his scheme of laying by an adequate sum to purchase the drawing
+utensils. Independently of which he always carried a strong memorial of
+his folly on his nose, which was so scarred that he endured many a joke,
+as it were, to keep alive in his memory the effect of his folly. Indeed,
+he never looked in the glass without seeing his reproach in his face,
+and thus at length learned never to play without first thinking if it
+were at a proper time and in a proper place.
+
+
+
+
+The Months
+
+
+Who is this, clad in russet-brown? His distant step sounds hollow on the
+frozen ground; no beam of beauty is on his face, but his look is
+healthy, and his step is firm. As he approaches the peasant bars his
+door and renews his fire. The sparkling home-brewed goes round and
+mantles in the foaming jug, the oft-repeated tale is told, the rain
+patters against the casement, but the night passes away, and the storm
+is no longer heard.
+
+Bright in his career the sun arises. Millions of gems seem suspended
+from the leafless branches. The familiar robin and the bolder sparrow
+seek the abode of man. Swift fly the balls of snow; the ruddy youth
+binds on his skates and gracefully flies over the frozen pool.
+
+Who is this stranger? He is the first-born of his family, and his name
+is JANUARY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A grave and placid maiden now advances. The crocus and the snow-drop
+adorn her brown garments, a wreath of primroses binds her brows, the
+robin, perched on the leafless branch, welcomes her approach, and the
+lovely green of the young wheat is spread over the lately barren
+fields. The lambs frisk about her, they nibble the grass of the valley,
+then suddenly start and bound up the shelving mountain. But their infant
+coats are now wet with rain, and their sports are over. Shivering, they
+follow the shepherd with their bleating dams. And now, adorned with
+rustic lays and bleeding hearts, the swain sends to his favourite maid
+the mysterious valentine. The birds choose their mates; it is the season
+of connubial joys. Mild then be thy reign, gentle FEBRUARY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Who is this froward youth, with his loud and boisterous voice? He comes
+from the east; limping rheumatism and shivering ague are in his train;
+but his face is now dressed in smiles. The birds begin their lays, the
+lambs again frolic around. The daisy and the violet grow beneath his
+feet; he dresses himself with the buds of the spring. Vegetation
+displays her lovely green, and holds out the promise of future riches.
+Again the tempest of his passions arise; he tears the chaplet from his
+brows, and scatters it in the wind. Oh! hasten far away from us,
+variable and boisterous MARCH.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Clad in a robe of light green, and decorated with lilies of the valley,
+a lovely maid advances. She breathes on the opening flowers, and their
+beauty is expanded. The leaves of the grove burst forth, and the hedges
+exhibit their partial verdure. Nature, invigorated, smiles around her;
+but she weeps, and her flowerets bend, drooping, to the earth. Mild is
+her mien, and the tint of modesty is on her cheek. She smiles, whilst
+the tear still trembles in her eye, like placid resignation bending over
+the tomb of a departed friend. She is a pensive maiden, and her name is
+APRIL.
+
+[Illustration: '_The lambs frisk about her.'--Page 16._]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Hark to the sound of rustic mirth, which precede a cheerful youth! His
+step is light and airy, his robe is of many colours, roses adorn his
+flowing ringlets, health and pleasure float on the freshening gale,
+exercise and mirth gambol before him, age forgets his troubles, quits
+his arm-chair, and welcomes his approach. The maids of the hamlet
+assemble and dance round the pole, decked with many a flower and many a
+streaming pendant. The village lovers loiter at the stile, or wander
+down the retired lane, where the hedges are covered with their white
+blossoms, and the modest wild rose, emblem of the blushing maid, peeps
+from the sheltering thorn. Season of love and delight! long may thy
+reign be protracted, young and beauteous MAY!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Who is the maid now approaching? She arises when the lark first pours
+his melody in air. Her dress is of a darker green, her head is adorned
+with full-blown flowers, her face is tanned by labour. The bleating and
+affrighted sheep are plunged, unwillingly, into the pool, and now by the
+sturdy hand stripped of their fleecy coats. The bottle quickly passes,
+the simple tale goes round, the ballad purchased at the fair is sung;
+the mower whets his scythe, and the grass and the wild-flowers fall
+before it; the waggon, heavily laden, removes the odoriferous hay; and
+the neat-mown fields display a brighter green. The cuckoo, with his
+never-varying note is heard; but let us, when the day is over, placed in
+some secluded nook, listen to the sweeter nightingale, who, as poets
+feign, was once a hapless female. Industry now toils through the
+lengthened day, and the name of this sun-burnt maiden is JUNE.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Who is the youth that now advances in his robe of gauze? He comes when
+the rosy morn first trembles in the east. Slow and languid is his step;
+he seeks the damp cavern and the impervious shade. It is the heat of
+noon, and the kine no longer low. Not a breeze stirs: the foliage of the
+groves, all--is still, except the insect world, who dimple the stream,
+or, buzzing round the head of the sleeping youth, rouses the panting dog
+that lies at his side.
+
+Now the terrified birds dart swiftly through the air; a solemn and
+portentous stillness reigns; the thunder mutters, the lightnings flash,
+and the pouring storm approaches; the traveller seeks the sheltering
+cottage. But when the sun again returns in his glory, the birds plume
+their dripping feathers; the gardener ties up his fallen roses, and
+trails anew the gadding woodbine. How sweetly refreshing is the air; we
+will wander over the breezy hill; we will pluck the summer fruits; and
+still welcome shalt thou be to us, sultry JULY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Who is she, who, with the first blush of Aurora, brushes the pearly dew
+from the grass? Her robe is thin and airy, and on her head is a garland
+of wheat-ears and poppies. How busy is the scene around her! The shining
+scythe cuts down the bearded barley and the quivering oat; the reaper
+bends over the golden wheat, and fills the plenteous sheaf.
+
+All are employed: even old age and childhood bend, with prying eyes, to
+glean the scattered ears. The master looks on his riches, and swells
+with satisfaction; the busy housewife loads the hospitable board, and
+hands the mantling ale around; age tells the tale of past times; and the
+loud laugh and rustic song burst from the lips of jocund youth. Oh! ever
+thus return to us, with plenty in thy train, mirth-inspiring AUGUST.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Who is the youth that, at early dawn, brushes the stubble with his feet?
+His gun is on his arm. His well-taught dogs are with him. The harmony of
+the groves is destroyed, and the feathered race fall before his cruel
+hand. The timid hare, starting at the sound of early feet, flies from
+the furzy brake, and she returns to her shelter no more. Content
+thyself, youth, with the various fruits which Nature now bestows. The
+golden apricot, the downy peach, and the blooming plum, peep from
+beneath their green foliage. Feast on these gifts, but spare the
+feathered race, sanguinary SEPTEMBER.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Who now comes, with the steady air of a matron? Her robe is of yellow,
+tinged with brown; and a wreath of berries encircles her head. She fills
+her barns; and the flail, with monotonous sound, is heard. Labour
+blesses her as he turns the earth with his plough, and scatters, with a
+seemingly careless hand, the seeds of future harvests. She shakes the
+clustering nuts from the trees, and gathers the rosy produce of the
+orchard, where the apple and the mellow pear yield their refreshing
+juice.
+
+The poet wanders through the silent grove; the mournful breeze wafts the
+withered leaves around him; the huntsman winds his horn; exercise bounds
+over the plain; the sportsman rejoices in the barren fields. Season that
+I love, ever welcome shalt thou be to me, mild and pensive OCTOBER.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+What terrific form is this? Sullen and haggard is his face; his ragged
+garments float in the blast; a wreath of yew binds his head; thick fogs
+arise around him; he tears from the groves the last leaves of autumn;
+disease attends his baneful steps; he drinks at the stagnant pool; he
+throws himself on the beetling rock; he courts the foaming billows; he
+listens to the last groans of the shipwrecked mariner; he wanders
+through the churchyard; he seeks the abode of the raven, and horror is
+in all his thoughts. Oh, hasten far away from us, gloomy NOVEMBER.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Who is this clad in flannel and warm furs? He wraps his garments close
+about him; a wreath of holly binds his bald head; he seeks the warm
+hearth and the blazing fire; he expands his hands: they are thin and
+shrivelled with age. The snow fast descends; the sweeping blast howls
+over the dreary heath, and shakes the cottage of the aged man--he is the
+father of the year, and his name is DECEMBER.
+
+
+
+
+Jemima Placid
+
+or
+
+The Advantage of Good Nature
+
+
+Mr. Placid was a clergyman of distinguished merit, and had been for many
+years the vicar of Smiledale. The situation of the parsonage was truly
+beautiful, but the income of the living was not very considerable; so,
+as the old gentleman had two sons with the young Jemima to provide for,
+it was necessary to be rather frugal in his expenses. Mrs. Placid was
+remarkably handsome in her youth, but the beauty of her person was much
+impaired by a continued state of ill-health, which she supported with
+such a degree of cheerful fortitude as did honour to human nature. As
+she had had the advantage of a liberal education, and had been always
+accustomed to genteel company, her conversation was uncommonly
+agreeable; and her daughter derived from her instructions those engaging
+qualities which are the most valuable endowments a parent can bestow.
+The eldest son, whose name was Charles, was about three years, and
+William, the youngest, near a year and a half older than his sister.
+Their dispositions were not in all respects so gentle as hers; yet, on
+the whole, they formed the most agreeable family.
+
+When Jemima was about six years old, her mother's health rendered it
+necessary that she should take a journey to Bristol; and it being out of
+her power to have Jemima with her, she left her with an aunt, whose name
+was Finer, and who had two daughters a few years older than their
+cousin. Miss Placid, who had never before been separated from her
+mother, was severely hurt at the thought of leaving home; but as she was
+told it was absolutely necessary, she restrained her tears, from fear of
+increasing the uneasiness which her mother experienced.
+
+At last the day arrived when her uncle (whom I before forgot to mention)
+and his wife came to dinner at Smiledale, with an intention of
+conducting Jemima back with them. She was in her father's study at the
+time they alighted, and could not help weeping at the idea of quitting
+her friends; and throwing her arms around her brother William's neck,
+silently sobbed forth that grief she wanted power to restrain. The poor
+boy, who loved his sister with great tenderness, was nearly as much
+agitated as herself, and could only, with affectionate kisses, every now
+and then exclaim:
+
+'Do not cry so, Jemima. Pray, do not! We shall soon meet again, my love.
+Pray, do not cry!'
+
+When she had relieved her little heart with this indulgence of her
+sorrow, she wiped her eyes, and walked slowly upstairs to have her frock
+put on.
+
+'So your aunt is come, miss?' said Peggy, as she put down the basin on
+the table to wash her hands.
+
+Poor Jemima was silent.
+
+'I am sorry we are going to lose you, my dear,' added she, as she wiped
+the towel over her forehead.
+
+Peggy's hand held back her head, and at the same time supported her
+chin, so that her face was confined and exposed to observation. She
+wanted to hide her tears, but she could not; so at last, hastily
+covering herself with the maid's apron, and putting her two hands round
+her waist, she renewed the sorrow which she had so lately suppressed.
+
+Peggy was very fond of her young lady, as indeed was every servant in
+the house; but there was a good woman, who went in the family by the
+name of Nurse, for whom Jemima had a still greater attachment. She had
+attended Mrs. Placid before her marriage, had nursed all her children
+from their births, and Jemima was the darling of her heart. As she
+entered the room at this time, she took the weeping girl into her lap,
+and wept herself at the reflection that it was the first time in her
+life she had slept without her.
+
+'And so pray, my dear,' said she, 'take care of yourself; and when you
+go to bed, mind that they pin your night-cap close at the top, otherwise
+you will get cold; and do not forget to have your linen well aired; for
+otherwise it is very dangerous, love; and many a person, by such
+neglect, has caught a cold which has terminated in a fever. Sweet child!
+I do not like to trust it from me,' added she, hugging her still closer,
+and smothering her face in a check cotton handkerchief which she wore on
+her neck.
+
+Jemima promised an observance of her injunctions, and being now dressed,
+attended a summons from her mother, who was alone in her chamber, the
+company having left her to walk in the garden, whither she was unable to
+accompany them.
+
+'I see, my dear girl,' said she, holding out her hand as she sat in an
+easy-chair by the window--'I see that you are sorry to leave me; and,
+indeed, Jemima, I am much grieved that such a separation is necessary;
+but I hope I shall be better when I return, and I am sure you would wish
+me to be quite well. I hope, therefore, that you will be a good child
+while you stay with your uncle and aunt, and not give more trouble than
+you cannot avoid.'
+
+Miss Placid assured her mother of her obedience, and her firm resolution
+to mind all her admonitions. Mr. Finer returning at this period,
+interrupted any further discourse, only Mrs. Placid affectionately
+pressed her hand, and, after giving her a kiss, Jemima sat down on a
+little stool by her side.
+
+When the hour of her departure was nearly arrived, she retired into the
+garden to take leave of her brothers, and went round with them to all
+the different places she had been accustomed to play in. They visited
+together the poultry-yard, and Jemima fed her bantams before she left
+them, bidding them all adieu, and looking behind her for the last time
+as she shut the gate. They then walked round by some walnut-trees, where
+a seat had been put up for them to sit in the shade.
+
+'I wish you were not going,' said Charles; 'for I put this box and drove
+in these nails on purpose for you to hang up your doll's clothes, and
+now they will be of no farther use to us.'
+
+'I wish so too,' replied his sister; 'but I cannot help it.'
+
+'Well, do not cry,' added William; 'but come this way by the brewhouse,
+and bid my rabbits good-bye, and take this piece of lettuce in your hand
+to feed the old doe, and here is some parsley for the young ones. We
+shall have some more before you come back, and I will send you word if I
+can how many there be.'
+
+'And, Jemima,' said Charles, 'I wish I were going with you to London,
+for I should like to see it; it is such a large place, a great deal
+bigger than any villages which we have seen, and they say, the houses
+stand close together for a great way, and there are no fields or trees,
+and the houses have no gardens to them. But then there is a great number
+of shops, and you might perhaps get a collar for Hector. Do pray try,
+Jemima, and buy him one, and have his name put upon it, and that he
+belongs to the Rev. Mr. Placid of Smiledale, for then, in case we should
+lose him, folk would know where to return him.'
+
+'And would it not be better to have a bell,' said William, 'as the sheep
+have? I like a bell very much; it would make such a nice noise about the
+house; and then we should always know where he was when we were reading,
+as my father will not let us look after him. What else do we want her to
+buy, Charles? Cannot you write a list?'
+
+'That will be the best way,' replied he, taking out his pencil, and,
+very ungracefully, to be sure, he put the point of it to his mouth two
+or three times before it would write. And then, having but a small scrap
+of paper, he despatched his brother, as the shortest way, to fetch a
+slate, and he would transcribe it afterwards with a pen and ink, for he
+had, in endeavouring to cut a new point to his pencil, broken it off so
+frequently that the lead was all wasted, and nothing remained except the
+wood. William soon returned with the slate under his arm. Charles took
+it from him, and then went to work to prepare a bill of necessary
+things, which his sister was to purchase in London. He leaned so hard,
+and scratched in such a manner as, had any grown people been of the
+party, would have set their teeth on edge (a sensation, I believe, with
+which children are unacquainted, for they never seem to notice it at
+all).
+
+'First then,' said he, 'I am to mention a collar for Hector, with his
+name and place of abode; and I should like very much to have some Indian
+glue to mend our playthings, such as father uses, and which we cannot
+get here, you know.'
+
+William assented, and Jemima was as attentive as if she had to remember
+all the things he was writing without the assistance of his list. They
+sat some time in silence to recollect the other necessary commissions
+when she reminded them that a new pencil would be a useful article, but
+Charles said his father would supply that want, and there was no need to
+spend his own money for things he could have without any expense, but if
+anyhow he could get a gun with a touch-hole he should be quite happy.
+
+'No, you would not,' returned William, 'for then, Charles, you would
+want gunpowder, which you never could have, and if you had, might never
+use it.'
+
+'To be sure, that is true. I have long wished for it; but, as you say, I
+will be contented without it, so do not concern yourself about that, and
+I need not set it down.'
+
+I shall not trouble you with the rest of the consultation on this
+important subject, but transcribe the list itself, which, with the
+account of the preceding conversation, I received from a young lady who
+frequently spent some months with Mrs. Placid, and to whose kindness I
+am indebted for many of the various incidents which compose this
+history.
+
+     A LIST OF THINGS JEMIMA IS TO BRING FROM LONDON.
+
+     _A collar for Hector; Indian glue; some little pictures to make
+     a show; a pair of skates, as we shall like skating better than
+     sliding; a large coach-whip for Charles, because John will not
+     lend us his; and some little books which we can understand,
+     and which mother told Mrs. West may be bought somewhere in
+     London, but Jemima must inquire about it._
+
+Such were the orders which Miss Placid received from her brothers on her
+first journey to the Metropolis. They then attended her to bid adieu to
+her canary-bird, which she very tenderly committed to their care, and
+desired they would feed it every day, and give it water in her absence,
+and mind to turn the glass the right way, otherwise the poor thing might
+be starved. While she was taking her leave of little Dick, who hung in
+the hall by the window, her cat came purring to her and rubbed its head
+against her frock and pushed against her feet, then lay down on one
+side, and while Jemima stroked it with her hand, she licked her fingers,
+and at last jumped up into the window-seat to be still nearer to its
+mistress, who, taking it into her arms, particularly desired her
+brothers to give puss some of their milk every morning, and to save some
+bits of meat at dinner to carry to it. 'For, my pussy,' added she, 'I am
+quite sorry to leave you.'
+
+Another affair remained, which was to put away all her playthings; but
+this she had deferred so long that the carriage was ready before she had
+concluded, so with that, likewise, she was obliged to entrust her
+brothers. And, looking round her with a heavy heart upon every object
+she had been accustomed to, she quitted the room with regret, and after
+receiving the affectionate kisses of the whole family her father lifted
+her into the carriage, and, the tears running down her cheeks, she
+looked out of the window as long as the house was in sight and her
+brothers continued to stand at the gate, till the road to London turning
+into a contrary direction they could no longer see each other. She
+then, with a melancholy countenance, watched the fields and lanes she
+passed by, till at last, quite fatigued, she sat down, and soon after
+fell asleep.
+
+When they stopped at the inn where they intended to rest that night, she
+was so much fatigued, having been up very early, that she did not wake
+till she was nearly undressed, when, finding herself in a house where
+she had never before been, she looked about, but was too good to fret at
+such a circumstance, though she wished to be at home again. The next
+morning they renewed their journey, and in two days arrived at Mr.
+Piner's house about eight o'clock in the evening.
+
+Jemima, who had not seen her cousins since she was two years old, had
+entirely forgotten them, and, as they expected to find her as much a
+baby as at their last interview, they appeared like entire strangers to
+each other. They welcomed their father and mother, and looked at Miss
+Placid with silent amazement; both parties, indeed, said the civil
+things they were desired, such as 'How do you do, cousin?' rather in a
+low and drawling tone of voice; and Miss Sally, who was eight years old,
+turned her head on one side and hung on her father's arm, though he
+tried to shake her off, and desired her to welcome Miss Placid to
+London, and to say she was glad to see her, to inquire after her father,
+mother, and brothers, and, in short, to behave politely, and receive her
+in a becoming manner. To do this, however, Mr. Piner found was
+impossible, as his daughters were not at any time distinguished by the
+graces, and were always particularly awkward from their shyness at a
+first introduction.
+
+Our young traveller became by the next morning very sociable with her
+cousins, and complied with their customs with that cheerful obligingness
+which has always so much distinguished her character. She was much
+surprised at the bustle which she saw in the street, and the number of
+carriages so agreeably engaged her attention that it was with reluctance
+she quitted her seat on a red trunk by the window to enjoy the plays in
+which her cousins were solicitous to engage her. Mrs. Finer had been for
+some time engaged to dine with a lady of her acquaintance, where she
+could not conveniently take either of her children, and they both
+fretted and pined at the disappointment so as to render themselves
+uncomfortable and lose the pleasure of a holiday, which their mother had
+allowed them in consequence of their cousin's arrival. Miss Ellen, the
+eldest, was continually teasing to know the reason why she might not go,
+though she had repeatedly been told it was inconvenient; and Jemima
+beheld with astonishment two girls, so much older than herself, presume
+to argue with their mother about the propriety of her commands, when
+their duty should have been quiet submission. When her aunt was gone she
+took all the pains in her power to engage them to be good-humoured,
+presented them with their toys, and carried to them their dolls; but
+they sullenly replied to all her endeavours they did not want them, and
+told her not to plague them so, for they had seen them all a hundred
+times. At last Sally, taking up a little tin fireplace which belonged to
+her sister, Miss Ellen snatched it from her, and said she should not
+have it. Sally caught it back again, and they struggled for it with such
+passion as to be entirely careless of the mischief they might do each
+other.
+
+Poor Jemima, who had never disagreed with her brothers nor been witness
+to such a scene in her life, was terrified to see them engage with a
+degree of violence which threatened them with essential hurt. She
+endeavoured to appease their fury, and ventured, after she had stood
+still for some time between two chairs, to try if, by catching hold of
+one of their hands, she could be able to part them, but they only gave
+her some blows, and said she had no business in their quarrel. She then
+retired to the farther part of the room, and ardently wished herself at
+home. When spying another fireplace under the table, she took it up with
+good-natured transport, and running to Miss Finer, told her there was
+one for her, which she hoped would put an end to the dispute. This,
+however, proved to be the property of Miss Sally, who declared, in her
+turn, that her sister should not touch any of her playthings; and
+finding she was not strong enough to retain it, she threw it with all
+her force to the other end of the room, and unfortunately hit Miss
+Placid a blow with one of the sharp corners, just above her temple. This
+at once put an end to the battle, for the blood immediately trickled
+down her cheek, and alarmed the two sisters, who, forgetting the subject
+of the debate, began to be uneasy at the effects of it; only Ellen, who
+considered herself as more innocent (merely because she had not been the
+immediate cause of the accident), with a recriminating air, said:
+
+'There, miss, you have done it now! You have killed your cousin, I
+believe!'
+
+Jemima, though in a great deal of pain, and much frightened, did not
+cry; as she seldom shed tears, unless from sensibility, or at parting
+with her friends. She held her handkerchief to the place, and became
+more alarmed in proportion as she saw it covered with blood, till at
+last, finding it was beyond their art to stop the effusion, Ellen, with
+trembling steps, went upstairs to tell the servant of their misfortune.
+Dinah, which was the maid's name, had been so often accustomed to find
+her young ladies in mischief, that she did not descend in very good
+humour, and upon her entrance exclaimed that they were all the
+naughtiest girls in the world, without inquiring how the accident
+happened, or making any exception to the innocence of Jemima, who could
+only again most sincerely wish to be once more at Smiledale with her
+mother. Dinah, after washing her temple with vinegar, which made it
+smart very much (though she did not complain), told them they had been
+so naughty that they should not go to play any more, nor would she hear
+Miss Placid's justification, but crossly interrupted her by saying:
+
+'Hold your tongue, child! and do not want to get into mischief again;
+for my mistress will make a fine piece of work, I suppose, about what
+you have done already.'
+
+Jemima was too much awed by the ill-nature of her looks and the anger of
+her expressions to vindicate her conduct any further, but quietly
+sitting down, she comforted herself with the reflection that her
+displeasure was undeserved, and that to fret at what she could not avoid
+would not make her more happy, and therefore, with great good humour,
+took up a bit of paper which contained the rough drawing of a little
+horse which Charles had given her on the day of her departure, and which
+she had since carefully preserved.
+
+In justice to Mrs. Dinah I must here observe that she was not naturally
+ill-natured, but the Misses Piner were so frequently naughty as to give
+her a great deal of trouble, and tire out her patience; and their
+mother, by not taking the proper methods to subdue the errors of their
+dispositions, had made them so refractory that it soured her own temper,
+and occasioned her to blame her servants for the consequence of those
+faults which it was her duty to have prevented. So you see, my dear
+Eliza, from such instances, how mistaken is that indulgence which, by
+gratifying the humours of children, will make them impatient and
+vindictive, unhappy in themselves, and a trouble to everyone with whom
+they are connected. The amiable Jemima was always contented and
+good-humoured, even when she was not in a state agreeable to her wishes,
+and, by learning to submit to what she did not like, when it could not
+be altered, she obtained the love of everybody who knew her, and passed
+through life with less trouble than people usually experience; for, by
+making it a rule to comply with her situation, she always enjoyed the
+comforts it afforded, and suffered as little as possible from its
+inconvenience In the present case her cousins, by their ill-temper and
+fretfulness, had quarrelled with each other; and when Dinah would not
+let them play--as, indeed, they justly deserved to be punished--they did
+nothing but grumble and cry the whole day, and were so conscious of
+their bad behaviour as to be afraid of seeing their mother; while Miss
+Placid, serene in her own innocence, entertained herself for some time
+with looking at the horse above mentioned, and afterwards with pricking
+it, till Dinah set her at liberty, which, seeing her good temper, she
+soon did, and gave her besides some pretty pictures to look at and some
+fruit to eat, of all which her cousins were deprived. By the next
+morning Jemima's temple had turned black, and Mrs. Piner inquired how
+she had hurt herself. She coloured at the question with some confusion,
+not willing to inform her aunt of anything to Miss Sally's disadvantage,
+but, as she was too honest to say anything but the truth, she begged
+Mrs. Finer would not be angry if she informed her, which she, having
+promised, Jemima told her, adding that her cousin had no intention to
+hurt her.
+
+Mrs. Piner kissed and commended Jemima very much, and Dinah having
+likewise given a high account of her goodness, she told her daughters
+she was much displeased with them, but in consequence of their cousin's
+intercession would not punish them that time, and desired them for the
+future to imitate her example.
+
+As soon as breakfast was over they were dismissed to school, while
+Jemima remained with her aunt, who, after having heard her read, gave
+her a handkerchief to hem, which she sat down by her to do, and when she
+had done work very prettily, entered into conversation.
+
+'I should be much obliged to you, madam,' said she, 'as I do not know my
+way about London, if you would go with me to buy some things for my
+brothers, which I promised to carry back when I return. I have got some
+money to pay for them, for Charles gave me a sixpence, and three
+halfpence, and a farthing; and William gave me threepence; and I have
+got a silver penny and a twopence of my own, all screwed safely in a
+little red box.'
+
+Mrs. Piner inquired what the articles were which she wished to purchase,
+and smiled on perusing the list which Charles had written.
+
+'And pray, my dear,' said she, 'how do you intend to carry the
+coach-whip, for you will not be able conveniently to pack it up? And as
+to the skates, I do not think your father would choose your brothers
+should make use of them till they are much older, as they are very
+dangerous, and particularly so to little boys. The other things I will
+endeavour to procure, and you shall take a walk with me to buy the books
+and choose them yourself, and I will pay for them; so you may save your
+money in the little box, for you are a very good girl, and therefore
+deserve to be encouraged.'
+
+Jemima thanked her aunt for her kind intentions, and said if she could
+get a coach-whip, she thought she could carry it to Smiledale in her
+hand; and as her brothers were always kind to her, she wished to do
+everything in her power to oblige them.
+
+The next day was to be a holiday at her cousins' school, on account of
+their dancing-master's ball, to which the Misses Piner were invited; and
+Mrs. Piner had promised Jemima she should be of the party. They rose in
+the morning with the pleasing hopes of enjoying a dance in the evening;
+and Ellen went a dozen times in the day to look at her new cap, wishing
+it was time to put it on (for she was a silly, vain girl), and was so
+foolish as to imagine herself of more consequence, because she was
+better dressed than other children.
+
+'Oh, Miss Placid,' said she, 'you will look so dowdy to-night in your
+plain muslin frock, while all the rest of the ladies will wear either
+gauze frocks or silk coats full trimmed. Have you seen how handsome our
+dresses will be? Do, pray, look at them,' added she, opening the drawer
+and extending the silk, and then, glad of an excuse to survey it, she
+went to a box, and, taking out her cap, held it on her hand, turning it
+round and round with a degree of pride and pleasure which was very
+silly.
+
+Jemima good-naturedly admired her cousin's finery without wishing for
+any addition to her own.
+
+'I am sure,' replied she, 'my mother has provided what is proper for me,
+and is so kind as to afford me everything necessary; and my frocks are
+always clean, and will do extremely well for the present occasion, or
+else my aunt would have bought me another.'
+
+'But should not you like such a cap?' said Miss Ellen, putting it on
+Jemima's head. 'You look very pretty in it indeed.'
+
+[Illustration: _Ellen went a dozen times in the day to look at hey new
+cap.--Page 36._]
+
+'No; I think it is too large for me,' returned Miss Placid; 'and there
+is a piece of wire in it which scratches when you press it down. You
+should alter that, or it will be very uncomfortable.'
+
+In short, the ball was the only subject of conversation during the whole
+day; and although Miss Piner felt an uncommon headache and sickness, yet
+she would not complain, for fear her mother should think proper to leave
+her at home. The pain, however, increased greatly, and she frequently
+left the parlour to give vent to her complaints and avoid her mother's
+notice. The heaviness of her eyes and alternate change of countenance
+from pale to red, at last took Mrs. Piner's attention, and she tenderly
+inquired after her health; but Ellen affected to treat her indisposition
+as a trifle, though, as she was by no means patient in general, she
+would at any other time have made incessant complaints. She attempted to
+laugh and play, but to no purpose, for her illness became too violent to
+be suppressed. However, upon her father's hinting at dinner that she
+seemed to have no appetite, and had better, if not well, go to bed, she
+forced herself, against her inclination, to eat some meat and pudding,
+and went up afterwards to conceal her uneasiness, and put on her
+clothes, thinking that if she was in readiness it would be an additional
+reason for her going. But, alas! so foolish is vanity, and so
+insignificant are outward ornaments, that when Miss Ellen was decked out
+in the gauze frock which had so long engaged her thoughts, she felt such
+a degree of uneasiness from her sickness as to make her disregard what
+she had before wished for with such ill-placed ardour.
+
+Having eaten more than was proper for her stomach in such a disordered
+state, it increased her illness very much; but being determined to go,
+though her mother advised her to the contrary, and pretending she was
+somewhat better, she stepped into the coach, the motion of which soon
+produced a most terrible catastrophe; and before she could speak for
+assistance, occasioned such a violent sickness as totally spoiled her
+own and her cousin's clothes, who sat opposite to her; nor did Sally's
+quite escape the disaster, for as she had spread them over Jemima, with
+an intent to display their beauties, they shared in part that calamity
+which had so unfortunately overtaken the others.
+
+Mrs. Piner, though she was grieved at her daughter's indisposition, was
+likewise extremely angry at the consequence of her obstinacy.
+
+'If you had stayed at home, as I bade you,' said she, somewhat angrily,
+'nothing of this would have happened,' and, pulling the check-string,
+added, 'we must turn about, coachman, for we cannot proceed in this
+condition.'
+
+Sally, notwithstanding her sister's illness, continually teased her
+mother to know whether they should go when Ellen was set down and her
+own dress wiped, without attending to her sister's complaints. When the
+carriage reached Mr. Piner's, he came himself hastily to the door to
+know what accident had occasioned their unexpected return, and upon
+being informed, lifted poor Ellen into the house, while her sister
+declared she would not walk indoors, as she wanted to go to the ball.
+Dinah was, however, called down, and with much resistance conveyed the
+young lady crying and kicking upstairs.
+
+Jemima stood by unnoticed in the general confusion, and Miss Piner was
+undressed with the utmost expedition, and sincerely rejoiced to be rid
+of the encumbrance of that finery which in another situation would have
+excited her envy. Our little heroine, whose sense as well as serenity
+was uncommon, reflected that gay clothes must, certainly in themselves
+be of little value, since they could not prevent the approach of
+disease, or suspend for a moment the attacks of pain; that the pleasure
+they bestowed, as it was ill-founded, was likewise extremely transient,
+as Sally's passion on her disappointment was sufficient to prove, since
+she was now mortified in proportion as she had before been elated. And
+though her sister's reflections were for the present suspended by the
+violence of pain, yet her vexation, when she was restored to the ability
+of contemplating the state of her clothes, would be equally poignant and
+without remedy.
+
+While Miss Placid, in obedience to her aunt, took off the frock which
+had suffered so much in its short journey, Sally sat screaming and
+crying in an easy-chair, into which she had thrown herself, declaring
+she would go, and pushed Dinah away as often as she attempted to take
+out a pin. Nor would she be pacified by any endeavours which were used
+to please and amuse her, till her mother, quite tired with her noise and
+ill-humour, declared she would send word to her governess the next
+morning if she did not do what she was desired; upon which threat she
+submitted to be undressed, but petulantly threw every article of her
+attire upon the ground, and afterwards sat down in one of the windows in
+sullen silence, without deigning an answer to any question that was
+proposed to her. Jemima was as much disappointed as her cousin could be,
+and had formed very high expectations of the pleasure she should receive
+at the ball; but she had been always accustomed to submit to unavoidable
+accidents without repining, and to make herself happy with those
+amusements in her power when she was deprived of what she might wish for
+but could not procure.
+
+Some time after this Mr. Steward, a gentleman who lived at Smiledale,
+came up to town about business, and called upon Mr. Piner with an
+intention of seeing Miss Jemima, who was much distressed that she
+happened to be absent, as she wished to hear some news of her father and
+brothers. However, he returned again the next day, and Miss Placid very
+gracefully paid her respects to him, and inquired after the friends she
+had left. He satisfied her as to their health, and presented her with a
+letter from her brother Charles, which, as soon as she could find an
+opportunity, she retired to read. The contents were as follow:
+
+    _To Miss Placid._
+
+    'MY DEAR SISTER,
+
+'As William writes so very slowly, and as father does not think he
+should scribble at all, he has desired me to inform you of everything
+that has passed since you left us. And first I must acquaint you with a
+sad accident which will render one of your commissions useless. Poor
+Hector, the day after you went away, was lost for several hours. We went
+to every house in the village, and hunted behind every tomb in the
+churchyard; called Hector! Hector! through all the fields, and then
+returned and sought him in our own garden again; looked under the bench
+in the poultry-yard, nay, even in the cellar and coal hole; but no
+Hector returned. We sat down together on the bottom stair in the hall,
+and William cried ready to break his heart. Father said he was sorry,
+but told us our tears would not bring him back, and advised us to bear
+the loss of him with more fortitude, took William on his lap, and read a
+story to divert him. We got tolerably cheerful and went down to tea; but
+as soon as my brother took up his bread and butter, the thoughts of
+Hector always jumping up to him for a bit, and how he would bark and
+snap in play at his fingers, quite overcame his firmness, and he could
+not touch a morsel. Well, to make short of the story, the next morning
+John came in and told father that Squire Sutton's gamekeeper, not
+knowing to whom he belonged, had shot him for running after the deer.
+"Why now," said I, "if he had but stayed away from the park till Jemima
+had brought him a collar he would not have been killed. Poor Hector! I
+shall hate Ben Hunt as long as I live for it." "Fie, Charles," said my
+father. "Hector is dead, sir," said I; and I did not then stay to hear
+any further. But since that we have talked a great deal about love and
+forgiveness; and I find I must love Ben Hunt, even though I now see poor
+Hector's tomb in the garden. For John went to fetch him, and we buried
+him under the lilac-tree, on the right hand side, just by the large
+sun-flower. And we cried a great deal, and made a card tomb-stone over
+his grave; and father gave us an old hatband and we cut it into pieces
+and we went as mourners. His coffin was carried by Tom Wood, the
+carpenter's son, whose father was so kind as to make it for us, while
+James Stavely (the clerk's nephew), my brother, and I, followed as chief
+mourners, and old nurse and Peggy put on their black hoods which they
+had when Jane Thompson died, and went with us, and we had the kitchen
+table-cloth for a pall, with the old black wrapper put over it which
+used to cover the parrot's cage; but we did not read anything, for that
+would not have been right, as you know. After all, he was but a dog.
+Father, however, to please us, wrote the following epitaph, which I very
+carefully transcribed and affixed over his grave:
+
+    '"Here Hector lies, more bless'd by far
+    Than he who drove the victor's car;
+    Who once Patroclus did subdue,
+    And suffer'd for the conquest too.
+    Like him, o'ercome by cruel fate,
+    Stern fortune's unrelenting hate;
+    An equal doom severe he found,
+    And Hunt inflicts the deadly wound.
+    Less cruel than Pelides, he
+    His manes were pursuits to be;
+    And satisfied to see him fall,
+    Ne'er dragg'd him round the Trojan wall."
+
+'I am very sorry for the poor fellow's untimely end, and so, I daresay,
+you will be. Our rabbit has kindled, and we have one in particular the
+skin of which is white with black spots, the prettiest I ever saw, and
+which we have called Jemima, and will give to you when you return. Peggy
+has sprained her ankle by a fall downstairs. I forgot my wooden horse
+and left it in the way, and she came down in the dark and stumbled over
+it. I was very sorry, and my father was much displeased, as it is what
+he has so often cautioned us against. Jack Dough, the baker's boy,
+brought me a linnet yesterday, which I have placed in a cage near your
+canary-bird, who is very well. I do not think I have much more to say,
+for writing is such tedious work that I am quite tired, though what I
+have done has been a fortnight in hand. I have a great many things which
+I want to tell you if we could meet, and I should wish to know how you
+like London. Good-bye! William desires his love to you, and bids me say
+that he, as well as myself, will ever be
+
+                          'Your affectionate brother,
+
+                              'CHARLES PLACID.'
+
+You may be sure that the intelligence of Hector's death gave Jemima some
+uneasiness; more especially as, at the first time Mr. Steward had
+called, she was out with her aunt and actually purchased a collar for
+him, which, before the receipt of her letter, she had contemplated with
+great satisfaction, in the idea of having so well executed her brothers'
+commission, and the pleasure it would afford them.
+
+When Miss Placid had been in town about four months, and her mother was
+returned from Bristol, Mr. Placid came up to fetch her home, and invited
+her cousins to accompany her to Smiledale, promising to take great care
+of them and to teach them to read and write, and that Mrs. Placid would
+instruct them in every other part of their learning. To which Mr. and
+Mrs. Piner consented. The pleasure which Jemima felt at seeing her
+father after so long an absence can be better imagined than described.
+She looked at him with such transport that the tears started to her
+eyes, and, wanting words to declare the feelings of her heart, could
+only express her joy by stroking and kissing his hand as she sat on a
+stool by his side, and pressing it with fervour between both hers, she
+exclaimed that she was glad to see him. Her uncle and aunt gave her the
+highest praise for her good behaviour, and assured her father that they
+had never during the whole time of her visit seen her once out of
+humour, or at all fretful upon any occasion. Mr. Placid said he was
+extremely happy to hear so good an account of his little girl, but that
+he had expected everything amiable from the sweetness of her
+disposition, adding, 'It would be very strange if she had behaved
+otherwise with you as, I assure you, she is at all times equally
+tractable and engaging.'
+
+The evening before her departure her aunt was so obliging as to present
+her with a new doll, which she had taken great pains to dress, and had
+made for it two dimity petticoats, with a nice pair of stays, a pink
+satin coat, and a muslin frock. She had likewise purchased some cotton
+stockings and a pair of red shoes with white roses, white gloves tied
+with pink strings, and a gauze cap with pink satin ribbons. Jemima,
+with a graceful courtesy, paid her acknowledgments to Mrs. Piner for
+that favour, and all the kind attentions she had received since she had
+been in town, and saw it packed up with great care in a box by itself,
+pleasing herself with the joy it would afford her to show it to her
+mother. She then busied herself in putting up the Indian glue, and a
+great quantity of pictures which had been given her, poor Hector's
+collar, and several books which she had bought and had already perused
+with much delight, particularly 'A Course of Lectures for Sunday
+Evenings,' 'The Village School,' and 'Perambulation of a Mouse,' 2 vols.
+each, together with the 'First Principles of Religion,' and the
+'Adventures of a Pincushion.' All these mighty volumes she took with her
+to Smiledale, and Mr. Placid was so much pleased with them as to send
+for an additional supply to present to his friends. As to the skates, he
+had desired her not to think about them, as he should by no means
+approve of her brothers using them; nor would they have occasion for a
+coach-whip, but as he knew Charles had broken his bat she might carry
+him one instead. Jemima entreated permission to convey to them a drum,
+as she thought it would be a plaything they would much enjoy. To this he
+immediately consented, and went himself to procure one.
+
+The Misses Piner, who were in as great a hurry with their preparations
+as Jemima, behaved with less composure on the occasion. They tossed
+everything out of their drawers in search of such toys as they could
+possibly take with them, and wanted to pack up their whole stock of
+playthings (which, indeed, was a very large one), and then, as fast as
+Dinah put what they desired into their trunk, Ellen snatched it out if
+it belonged to her sister, and Sally did the same unless it happened to
+be her own. So that, quite tired with their teasing, naughty behaviour,
+she turned it topsy-turvy, and declared she would not put up any one
+thing except their clothes, and added she wished they were gone with all
+her heart.
+
+I shall not take up your time with any account of their journey, nor
+endeavour to describe the places which they passed through on their way
+to Smiledale, whither they arrived about five o'clock in the afternoon.
+Jemima ran to her mother with a degree of rapture which evinced the
+sincerity of her joy in returning to her embraces as soon as her
+brothers would permit her to disengage herself from their caresses, for,
+as they knew the day which was fixed for their return, and could nearly
+guess at the time she would arrive, they had taken their stand at the
+very place where they had parted with her, and, as soon as the carriage
+came in sight, they ran with their utmost speed to meet it, and came
+back again, jumping by the side, and when the coach stopped, were so
+eager to welcome their sister that they would scarcely leave room for
+her to get out, and they were in such a hurry to show her every new
+acquisition they had made since her departure that they would not allow
+her time to speak to anybody but themselves.
+
+
+
+
+Two Trials
+
+
+I
+
+Sally Delia
+
+Silence being demanded, the secretary opened the trial.
+
+_Secretary._ Lucy Sterling against Sally Delia, for raising contention
+among her schoolfellows, and disturbing the general peace.
+
+_Judge._ If I was unhappy in being appointed to sit in judgment on Billy
+Prattle, how much more so must I now be when I am bound to inquire with
+impartiality into every particular which may tend to convict Sally Delia
+of the charge laid against her. I would, however, recommend you to go
+through this business with the utmost candour, to advance nothing
+through prejudice, to conceal nothing through a mistaken tenderness; and
+to you, ladies of the jury, to divest yourselves of everything but
+truth, to weigh nicely the force of the evidence, that, in giving your
+verdict, you may convince everyone present you have acted upon upright
+principles.
+
+_Secretary._ Lucy Sterling, please to support the charge.
+
+_Judge._ I would beg leave, Lucy Sterling, before you proceed to give
+your evidence, to ask you whether either of the ladies on the jury were
+anyways concerned in this quarrel.
+
+_Lucy Sterling._ Sally Delia left the choice of her jury to me. It
+therefore became my business, though a principal evidence against her,
+to choose such young ladies as were absent at the time of the fray.
+
+_Judge._ Happy, indeed, is that young lady in whom friends and enemies
+confide!
+
+_Lucy Sterling._ A few evenings ago, when all the young ladies had
+finished their labours for that day, they were allowed to amuse
+themselves in what innocent manner they pleased in our garden. Our
+governess, solicitous for our felicity, thought to add to our pleasures
+by sending us a basket of sweetmeats, which she intended to be equally
+divided; but an unlucky accident turned this kind intention into a scene
+of sorrow, and raised in their hearts nothing but strife. There happened
+to be a piece of candied angelica, which seemed very beautiful. On this
+they all placed their attention, and all begged for that. Every one
+endeavoured to show her superior right. Sally Delia urged her superior
+strength. But as they were all speaking together it was almost
+impossible to distinguish what one said from the other.
+
+_Judge._ Was Sally Delia the first who talked of committing violence?
+
+_Lucy Sterling._ I heard nobody else mention any such thing. I
+endeavoured to quiet them, but they would not listen to me. Their minds
+were so bent upon this piece of sweetmeat that all the rest were
+disregarded. I offered to divide it amongst them to pacify them; but
+they all talked together, and had no time to listen to what I said.
+Then, as the only method to quiet the disturbance, I threw the bone of
+contention into a ditch, from whence it was impossible for either of
+them to get it. A profound silence ensued, and I took that opportunity
+to reason with them on the folly of quarrelling about such trifles. My
+admonitions were in vain, for the contention broke out more violently,
+and the dispute now was, not who should have it, but who ought to have
+had it. Sally Delia was the first who renewed the strife, and not being
+able to give vent to her passion in words alone, gave Nancy Graceful a
+slap on the face. The other returned the blow, and the scuffle became
+general. Many blows, indeed, did not pass between them, for they aimed
+only at tearing each others' clothes. One had her cap torn to pieces,
+and her hair pulled all about her shoulders; a second had her frock torn
+down the middle; and, in short, there was hardly one among them who had
+not some mark to show of having been concerned in this unfortunate
+affair.
+
+_Judge._ What part did you act in this fray, and how did it end?
+
+_Lucy Sterling._ I endeavoured to part them, and in endeavouring so to
+do, received several scratches on the hands and arms. I know not where
+all this would have ended had not our governess come to my assistance.
+After hearing her voice, everything was quiet, excepting with Sally
+Delia, who, in the presence of her governess, tore two handkerchiefs and
+an apron. The fear of punishment now began to take place of anger, and
+each, ashamed of the trophies of victory she held in her hands, let them
+fall to the ground. Our governess for some time stood astonished, little
+thinking that what she had given them to increase their felicity should
+be the cause of so much animosity. Madame inquired of me the cause of
+this disaster, which I explained as well as I was able. They were all
+examined separately, their tears pleaded their pardon; but Sally Delia
+remained obdurate and inflexible.
+
+_Secretary._ Polly Artless, please to come and give evidence.
+
+_Judge._ What do you know, Polly, of this quarrel?
+
+_Polly Artless._ I was not present when it happened; but the next
+morning I attended Sally Delia's examination before Lucy Sterling. Her
+governess had ordered Lucy Sterling to examine her, and in case she
+could not bring her to repentance, then to confine her, and order her to
+be brought to trial.
+
+_Judge._ Relate what passed at this examination.
+
+_Polly Artless._ Lucy Sterling asked her in the most kind manner what
+she could think to get by her contention about a piece of sweetmeat.
+Sally Delia replied that she should not answer her question; that she
+did not like to have more than one governess, and if she obeyed her she
+thought she did enough.
+
+_Judge._ What reply did Lucy Sterling make to this?
+
+_Polly Artless._ Lucy Sterling reminded her of the authority with which
+she herself had contributed to invest her; that she did not set up to
+govern others, or to prove herself wiser than they; that she only wanted
+to persuade her to learn to be peaceable and happy. She therefore begged
+leave to repeat the question whether she got anything by this last
+quarrel?
+
+_Judge._ Did Sally Delia make any answer?
+
+_Polly Artless._ She replied that she could not say she did get anything
+by it but the displeasure of her governess and having her clothes torn;
+that she did not value the sweetmeat, but that she had too much spirit
+to be imposed on, and that she was sure she had as much right to it as
+any of them.
+
+_Judge._ Did Lucy Sterling endeavour any further to convince her of her
+fault?
+
+_Polly Artless._ Yes. Lucy Sterling told her that she would have shown a
+greater spirit in giving up the matter of contention than in fighting
+for it; that then she would have proved herself a young lady of
+moderation and sense, nor would she have incurred the high displeasure
+of her governess. Sally Delia was at a loss for an answer, but she was
+so obstinate that she did not care to own herself in the wrong. At last
+she replied: 'I think I am as capable of judging what is right as you
+are of teaching me.' Then, finding herself overpowered by reason, she
+burst into tears. Lucy Sterling did everything in her power to bring her
+to confess her fault, but all was to no purpose. She therefore left her
+in custody till her trial.
+
+_Judge._ What is the character of Sally Delia among her schoolfellows?
+
+_Polly Artless._ She is too apt to be quarrelsome, too full of her high
+birth, and dissatisfied with everything.
+
+_Secretary._ Betsy Friendly, please to come and give evidence.
+
+_Judge._ What do you know, Betsy Friendly, concerning this quarrel?
+
+_Betsy Friendly._ I accompanied Polly Artless on the examination of the
+accused before Lucy Sterling, and, to the best of my remembrance, Polly
+Artless has told the truth.
+
+_Judge._ Do you know anything further?
+
+_Betsy Friendly._ I called this morning on Sally Delia, before she came
+on her trial. I found her divided between obstinacy and contrition, but
+I thought more inclinable to the latter.
+
+_Judge._ Relate what passed at this visit?
+
+_Betsy Friendly._ As soon as I entered the chamber, I saw her sitting
+on a sofa in a pensive posture, and tears in her eyes. I asked her what
+she thought of Lucy Sterling's advice, and whether it would not have
+been better to have followed it than suffer her conduct to be exposed in
+a public manner?
+
+_Judge._ What reply did she make?
+
+_Betsy Friendly._ Sally Delia said that she began to see a good deal of
+truth in Lucy Sterling's observations, and she seemed to fear that her
+reason would at last oblige her to own it. This last thought seemed to
+fill her with the most painful reflections.
+
+_Judge._ Did you not endeavour to convince her of the folly of her
+obstinacy?
+
+_Betsy Friendly._ I said all I could think of to persuade her to conquer
+her spirit. She would not, at last, give me a word of answer to anything
+I said. I then turned from her and left her.
+
+_Judge._ What have you observed with respect to her general behaviour?
+
+_Betsy Friendly._ She is too often obstinate and quarrelsome, but at
+other times free, easy, and good-natured.
+
+_Secretary._ Susan Lenox, please to give evidence.
+
+_Judge._ What do you know in respect to this fray?
+
+_Susan Lenox._ I have too much reason to remember it, for my cambric
+apron, which had cost me three months' working, was torn to rags.
+
+_Judge._ What is your opinion of the general behaviour of Sally Delia?
+
+_Susan Lenox._ She is sometimes well enough--at least, so long as you
+will listen to her tales about her illustrious family.
+
+_Secretary._ Anne Graceful, please to give evidence.
+
+_Judge._ Please to inform the court, Anne Graceful, of what you know
+concerning this affair.
+
+_Anne Graceful._ I have reason to complain of my loss; my muslin frock
+was entirely destroyed.
+
+_Judge._ Please to inform the court who gave the first blow?
+
+_Anne Graceful._ Though I did not see Delia give the first blow, I have
+no reason to doubt she was the person from whom I received it. When we
+were disputing who ought to have had the favourite sweetmeat, Sally
+Delia urged her high birth and fortune, and concluded that if reason
+could not strength should have obtained it. Hearing this, I turned my
+back on her as a mark of contempt, when I instantly received a violent
+slap on the head.
+
+_Judge._ How did you act on that occasion.
+
+_Anne Graceful._ I instantly turned about, and in my anger, mistaking
+Susan Lenox for Sally Delia, I treated her very rudely.
+
+_Judge._ This ought to teach us that passion is not only ill-becoming a
+young lady, but that it may lead into such mistakes as may be attended
+with serious consequences. But when you found your mistake, how did you
+behave towards Susan Lenox?
+
+_Anne Graceful._ As soon as peace was restored, I begged pardon, and
+offered to repair all injuries. The former was granted, but the latter
+she would not accept.
+
+_Judge._ I have only one more question to ask, which you will please to
+answer me on your word. Was there not some old grudge subsisting between
+you and Sally Delia?
+
+_Anne Graceful._ I must own that I never liked her; there was something
+in her so proud and overbearing as gave me a disgust.
+
+_Judge._ But were Delia to alter her conduct, should you forget what is
+past?
+
+_Anne Graceful._ When she begins to act like a reasonable girl, she
+will become dear to me and the rest of her schoolfellows.
+
+_Secretary._ Henry Lenox, come forward and give evidence.
+
+_Judge._ What do you know, Henry Lenox, of this fray?
+
+_Henry Lenox._ I saw all the finest part of it. I happened to be looking
+after a bird's nest in a field next to the garden: I heard the young
+ladies in high chat: but, as the sound did not seem to be very
+harmonious, curiosity led me to see what they were at. I instantly
+climbed up into a tree, and scarce had I taken my seat, when the
+engagement began. I saw Sally Delia strike Anne Graceful in the face;
+that young lady turned about and pulled off my sister's cap, and part of
+her hair with it. The battle soon became general, and it was impossible
+for me to distinguish friends from foes. Such a havoc ensued among caps,
+gowns, and frocks, as I never before beheld. This is the truth of what I
+know of this terrible disaster.
+
+_Judge._ Do you, on your word, declare that Sally Delia gave the first
+blow?
+
+_Henry Lenox._ I am certain she did.
+
+_Judge._ Sally Delia, what have you to say in your defence?
+
+_Sally Delia._ I am now brought to a public trial, as though I were some
+mean-born wretch; but out of conformity to your customs I submit to it.
+I deny the whole of the charge, and will wait for the verdict.
+
+_Judge._ Young ladies of the jury, Sally Delia now stands before you,
+accused of raising strife and contention among her schoolfellows, and
+disturbing the general peace. Lucy Sterling affirms that the governess
+having presented the young ladies with a basket of sweetmeats to regale
+them, a quarrel arose among them with respect to the preference of
+choice of one part of it. Disputes ran high, and at last Sally Delia
+was so imprudent as to lift up her hand against one of her
+schoolfellows, which created a general confusion. The part Lucy Sterling
+acted in endeavouring to pacify them is no small addition to that
+character for which she is so justly admired. This young lady says
+positively that she saw Sally Delia give the first blow; that the
+contention was no sooner over than all of them were sorry for what they
+had done, except Sally Delia, who persisted in her fault, and was to be
+prevailed on by no entreaties or arguments. Polly Artless says that she
+was not present at the fray, but attended Sally Delia on her examination
+before Lucy Sterling, and corroborates everything which that young lady
+had advanced, but more particularly points out the care Lucy Sterling
+took to bring her to reason. I may add, the character this evidence
+gives Sally Delia is not at all to her reputation. Betsy Friendly, who
+visited the accused before her trial, seems to speak something in her
+favour by saying she showed some marks of contrition, but at last left
+her in an obstinate condition. Susan Lenox stood next to the accused at
+the time she struck Anne Graceful, and became herself a sufferer
+thereby. Anne Graceful cannot take upon herself positively that Sally
+Delia was the person that struck her, though circumstances are strong
+against her; but Henry Lenox declares he saw Sally Delia give the blow.
+Sally Delia, in her defence, contents herself with denying the whole of
+the charge, and rests on her innocence. I will only observe that I
+cannot see how you can acquit her when there are so many convincing
+proofs of her guilt. The principal point to be considered is what
+punishment you will inflict: it ought not to be so slight a one that the
+remembrance of it may leave no impression behind, nor so heavy that it
+may anyways be deemed insupportable. After all, I only give my opinion
+freely, which, above all, is to do justice and love mercy.
+
+(The jury went out, and returned again in about half an hour.)
+
+_Judge._ Are you all agreed in your verdict?
+
+_Jury._ Yes.
+
+_Judge._ Is Sally Delia guilty or not guilty?
+
+_Jury._ Guilty.
+
+_Judge._ What punishment do you inflict?
+
+_Jury._ To be confined one month to her chamber; to be allowed neither
+sweetmeats nor fruit, nor to receive any visits; but, that her health
+may not be impaired, that she be allowed to walk twice a day in the
+garden, at those times when none of the scholars are there; that, after
+that time is expired, she be brought into the large hall, and there be
+obliged to ask a general pardon of all her schoolfellows; and that, in
+case she refuses to comply with these injunctions, that her parents be
+then prayed to take her home.
+
+Sally Delia, who had made no doubt that she should be acquitted, no
+sooner heard this hard judgment given against her than she burst into
+tears. The judge seeing it, thus spoke to her: 'I should be glad, Sally
+Delia, if you would inform me and the whole court from what source those
+tears flow: whether from a just sense of your crimes, or only from the
+apprehensions of your punishment? Why should you delay to humble that
+haughty spirit, to acknowledge your error, and beg for a mitigation of
+your punishments? I will myself then plead for you. But remember, if you
+continue obstinate till the court is broken up, your repentance
+afterwards will come too late.'
+
+Sally Delia then fell upon her knees, acknowledged her fault, and begged
+a mitigation of her punishment. The judge recommended her to the jury,
+who left the matter entirely to him. He ordered her to be confined only
+three days, and even during that time to have the liberty of receiving
+visits from the rest of the scholars.
+
+The trial being now ended, Sally Delia's schoolfellows, who just before
+had been evidences against her, ran to her and tenderly embraced her.
+
+She promised to lay aside all her haughty actions, and, instead of being
+hated by her companions, to obtain the love of them all. She kept her
+word, and is now become one of the most amiable young ladies in the
+school.
+
+The whole court was extremely well satisfied with the candid manner in
+which every part of the trial was supported.
+
+
+II
+
+Harry Lenox
+
+Harry Lenox little thought, when he was giving evidence against Sally
+Delia, that he should himself be soon brought to public trial. He was in
+many respects of a good disposition; he loved his books, was affable and
+obliging to his schoolfellows, and subservient to his tutor; but then he
+was fond of getting into mischief, such as breaking church-windows,
+laying traps to throw people down, and was very ingenious at inventions
+of this kind. Whenever he was accused of anything of this sort, he would
+not only deny it, but stoutly stand to it; and this, at last, brought
+him to a trial.
+
+The young gentlemen in general were very much vexed at Harry's disgrace,
+and would have bought off the complaint but that this would have been
+deemed bribery and corruption. The ladies were, most of them, well
+pleased that he was himself now brought into the same dilemma. In the
+meantime the judge took his seat, the jury assembled, and the prisoner
+was brought to the bar.
+
+_Secretary._ Sammy Halifax against Harry Lenox, for a robbery and
+telling a fib.
+
+_Judge._ Call up the evidence.
+
+_Secretary._ Sammy Halifax, support the charge.
+
+_Judge._ What have you to say, Sammy Halifax, against the prisoner?
+
+_Sammy Halifax._ A few days ago, having given my tutor satisfaction in
+the performance of my exercises, he ordered me a plum-tart as a reward.
+It was baked in a tin pan, which I was ordered to bring back as soon as
+I had eat the tart. Henry Lenox was remarkably taken with the look of
+this tart, and offered to keep it for me till I wanted it, alleging that
+his room, which was a north light, would keep it much better than mine,
+on which the sun shone the hottest part of the day. I accepted the
+offer, and saw him put it into his cupboard. I went immediately to
+invite two or three of my intimates to partake of it in the evening in
+my own room, and thought I could do no less than ask Harry Lenox to make
+one of the party, in consideration of his kindness; but he excused
+himself. In the evening we all met, and Harry Lenox brought the tart and
+set it down, and begged leave to be excused, as he had promised to take
+a walk with his sister. It was a long time, so charming did it look,
+before we could persuade ourselves to spoil the sight of it. At last I
+stuck my knife into it; but how shall I express our disappointment when,
+instead of fine plums and rich juice, we found only pebbles and water!
+We all vowed revenge for this piece of treachery, and would have beat
+him soundly could we have then found him; but he had taken care to get
+out of the way. When our first warmth was over, we concluded it would be
+better to treat him in a judicial manner; and he is now before this
+court for that purpose.
+
+_Judge._ You have said that you saw him put the tart into the cupboard;
+can you take upon you to say whether or not there was any lock to it?
+
+_Sammy Halifax._ I am certain there was no lock on the cupboard; for he
+said to me when he put the tart into it that he had no lock, and he
+hoped nobody would get at it.
+
+_Judge._ By what reason do you then conclude that he was the thief?
+
+_Sammy Halifax._ Because he had the care of it, and refused to come and
+partake of it.
+
+_Secretary._ George Bobadil, come and give evidence.
+
+_Judge._ What do you know of this matter, George Bobadil?
+
+_George Bobadil._ I was one invited by Sammy Halifax to eat part of this
+tart; but on cutting it up, instead of plums, we found only stones. It
+was instantly concluded that Henry Lenox was the traitor.
+
+_Judge._ Had you any other reason to suppose that Henry Lenox was such?
+
+_George Bobadil._ There was reason to think so; besides, I met him as I
+was going to the feast, stopped him, and told him where I was hastening;
+when he replied, as I thought, with a sneer, 'You will have a delicate
+repast!' I did not then know that he was entrusted with the care of it,
+and concluded that this manner of answering me arose from my
+supposition of his not being invited; but the tart was no sooner cut up
+than his reason for answering me thus was evidently apparent.
+
+_Judge._ You cannot take upon you to say that you positively know him to
+be guilty of the charge?
+
+_George Bobadil._ I cannot, but there is the strongest presumption of
+it.
+
+_Secretary._ Samuel Evelyn, come and give evidence.
+
+_Judge._ What have you to say, Samuel Evelyn, to this matter?
+
+_Samuel Evelyn._ I was one invited by Sammy Halifax to partake of this
+tart, which, when cut up, produced nothing but stones. I had been
+walking after dinner in the garden before I went into the school; and
+when I got to the bottom of it I saw Henry Lenox and three or four more
+sitting on the grass under a rose-bush. As soon as I came within sight
+of them, I saw them all in a bustle; and when I came up to them, though
+I did not see them eating anything, yet their mouths were so clammy that
+it was with difficulty they could answer me. As I had then no reason to
+suspect anything, and finding myself an unwelcome guest, I left them and
+went into the school.
+
+_Judge._ You do not, then, pretend to say what they had been eating.
+
+_Samuel Evelyn._ I cannot take upon me positively to say what they had
+been eating, but I afterwards made no doubt of its being Sammy Halifax's
+tart.
+
+_Secretary._ Come, Edward Harris, and give evidence.
+
+_Judge._ What have you to say, Edward, with respect to this tart?
+
+_Edward Harris._ I was invited to partake of it, and was, like the rest,
+disappointed; for there was nothing left but the top crust, the side and
+bottom crust, all the plums being taken away, and stones and water put
+in their place.
+
+_Judge._ Who do you suppose did it?
+
+_Edward Harris._ I make no doubt that it was Henry Lenox. It being left
+in his custody, and his refusing to come and partake of it, seem to
+corroborate the guilt of Henry Lenox.
+
+_Judge._ Have you any other circumstance to allege against him?
+
+_Edward Harris._ Yes; after he came out of the garden, and had been some
+time in the school, he was called out to construe. Before he left his
+form, he pulled out his handkerchief to blow his nose, when three or
+four plumstones fell on the ground. After he was gone I picked them up,
+for I love the bitter of the kernel.
+
+_Judge._ Did you observe these plumstones, whether they were of a pale
+or a red colour?
+
+_Edward Harris._ I had put them into my pocket, and forgotten them; but,
+on meeting with my disappointment in the tart, and finding there was so
+much room to suspect that Henry Lenox was the culprit, I pulled out the
+stones, and found by their colour they had been baked, for they were of
+a deep red. We concluded likewise that they must that day have been
+taken out of some tart, as they were still clammy.
+
+_Judge._ Did you ask Henry Lenox how he came by those stones?
+
+_Edward Harris._ I did not, for I well knew, if I had, he would not have
+answered me.
+
+_Judge._ Did you take any method to discover who was the person that
+robbed Sammy Halifax?
+
+_Edward Harris._ Yes; we agreed among ourselves, with our tutor's leave,
+to stick up a paper in the school, offering one shilling reward to any
+of the party who would turn evidence, and give information of the person
+who committed the fact. As we had great reason to suppose several were
+concerned in the eating of it, we were in hopes by this means to make a
+discovery; but we were disappointed, for not any spoke a word about it,
+and all in general pleaded ignorance.
+
+_Secretary._ Hannah Careful, please give evidence.
+
+_Judge._ Pray, what have you to say to this matter?
+
+_Hannah Careful._ I am a half-boarder, and was ordered by my governess
+to attend here, in order to prove that the tart I delivered to Sammy
+Halifax was filled with plums, and not stones.
+
+_Judge._ That is a material point; pray proceed.
+
+_Hannah Careful._ My governess instructs me in the art of pastry and
+confectionery; I that day made all the tarts myself, and was ordered to
+give Sammy Halifax one of the best. Before I gave it him, I raised one
+side of the crust, to see if the syrup might not have boiled out, when I
+found it had not; and I am certain it was filled with plums when I
+delivered it to Sammy Halifax.
+
+_Secretary._ Sally Delia, please to give evidence.
+
+_Judge._ What do you know of this affair?
+
+_Sally Delia._ Your lordship cannot have yet forgotten that I was myself
+so unfortunate as to fall under the censure of this court. I am sorry
+for the crime which then brought me before you, but I shall ever
+consider that day as the happiest period of my life--a day in which I
+was convinced of my folly, obstinacy, and self-conceit; a day to which I
+owe all the happiness of a calm and peaceful life, free from the
+passions of thoughtless girls who place enjoyments in the gratification
+of unreasonable desires.
+
+_Judge._ Pray, Sally, proceed, and do not imagine you will be
+troublesome to the court; there is nothing we can listen to with so much
+pleasure as the language of reformation.
+
+_Sally Delia._ I do not mention this out of vanity; only to induce the
+court to believe that I do not this day appear here against Henry Lenox
+out of any grudge whatever to his having been a witness against me. So
+far from it, I consider him as my benefactor; I consider him as one of
+those to whom I am indebted for my reformation. Happy shall I think
+myself if I shall in any way contribute to his.
+
+_Judge._ Your evidence cannot be disputed, and I doubt not the jury will
+lay much stress on what you shall advance.
+
+_Sally Delia._ It has lately been my custom in the evening to retire to
+a little arbour behind the summer-house in the bottom of the garden. I
+had this evening been so intent on what I was reading that I had stayed
+longer than usual. In the midst of my thoughts I was interrupted by the
+noise of somebody breaking through the bushes. I soon heard Henry
+Lenox's voice, and that of some others whom I well knew. I soon found
+the cause of their thus breaking out of their own bounds. They had some
+secret to talk of. I sat as still as possible, fearing I might be
+discovered, and heard Henry Lenox say, 'If you blow me, I never will
+forgive you; besides, you will come in for a flogging as well as me.'
+They all promised they never would puff; one said he never ate anything
+sweeter in his life; another said it was sweeter because it was stolen;
+and a fourth laughed heartily on thinking, when it was opened, how
+foolish they must all look; it was, says the fifth, one of the
+best----Here he stopped, for the foot of a person was heard coming down
+the garden, when they all flew away, and got off unperceived by anyone
+but myself. It was one of the maids, who was coming to look after me;
+and my governess chid me for staying beyond the time allowed me. My
+acknowledging my fault and asking pardon was thought a sufficient
+atonement.
+
+[Illustration: _'I was reading, and was interrupted by Henry Lenox and
+three others talking over a secret.'--Page 64._]
+
+_Judge._ Can you, from what you heard in the garden, take upon you to
+say that Henry Lenox is certainly guilty of what is laid to his charge?
+
+_Sally Delia._ Had not the maid disturbed them by coming to call me, I
+doubt not but I should have been able to answer in the affirmative; at
+the present, I only say that I believe so, and that upon the strongest
+presumption.
+
+_Henry Lenox._ I am happy in being tried by a judge and jury who have
+too much sense to convict me on mere conjecture, and there is far from
+any positive proof. To give a verdict against me in this case would be
+opening a way to the greatest errors. How many, through the hasty
+determination of a jury, on mere conjecture, have suffered unjustly! But
+should I meet with that fate, I will never find fault or repine, since I
+am sensible I shall not be the first, and I trust that my innocence will
+support me under the unmerited disgrace. Sammy Halifax came to me,
+brought a tart in his hand, and for safety, to oblige him, I put it into
+my cupboard. I brought it from thence, and gave it him. If anyone got to
+it, and treated it in the manner he describes, I am sorry for it; but it
+cannot be imputed to my fault. My reason for declining taking part of it
+is well known to my sister, whom I had promised to take a walk with in
+the evening. She is now in court, and I apprehend her word will not be
+doubted. As for the sneering words I made use of to George Bobadil (for
+that was the term he gave them), if they had any particular meaning at
+all, it could only serve to show what little consideration I made of
+mere matters for the tooth. As for the evidence which Samuel Evelyn has
+given against me, it can be of no weight, since it is well known that
+each has his confidant, and that each has some mighty secret to reveal
+to another. As to what Edward Harris advances with respect to the
+plumstones, they might as easily have fallen from the pocket of another
+as from mine, and there is even a possibility that these very plumstones
+may have come out of the tart after they themselves had eat it. Upon the
+whole, I leave it to your lordship and this honourable court whether
+there be any other view in this trial than that my accusers may obtain
+another tart at the expense of my credit.
+
+_Secretary._ Susan Lenox, please give evidence.
+
+_Susan Lenox._ My brother came to me in the evening in which the tart
+was eat, agreeable to my invitation; and I did not hear him mention the
+least syllable that could indicate his guilt in this matter. He
+mentioned the tart, indeed, by saying he was invited to eat part of it,
+but added that his appetite was the least of his concern.
+
+_Judge._ Did he appear more cheerful or dejected than usual?
+
+_Susan Lenox._ I perceived no change in him; he had nothing more or less
+of his natural gaiety and cheerfulness.
+
+_Stephen Brooks._ I have known the prisoner a long time, and have always
+found him more ready to give than receive, and far from taking anything
+from anyone.
+
+_Richard Richards._ The prisoner has been my intimate playmate for four
+years, and I never once quarrelled with him in my life.
+
+_Benjamin Blunt._ The whole is a contrivance to bring Henry Lenox into
+disgrace, and to make you believe they have been ill used.
+
+_Judge._ You have said, Sally Delia, that there were some voices you
+heard in the summer-house besides that of Henry Lenox. Do you imagine
+that either of these last young gentlemen were there?
+
+_Sally Delia._ I am certain they were all three there.
+
+_Judge._ Young gentlemen of the jury, I will not take up your time in
+recapitulating the evidence given; every part of it seems to agree so
+well that you cannot mistake it. The two principal points to be
+considered are these: If you are determined to find him guilty only on
+positive proofs, then you must acquit him, for there does not appear to
+be any throughout the whole trial; but if you will be contented with
+circumstances, supported by the strongest evidence that can be given,
+then you must find him guilty. It is, indeed, a just observation of the
+prisoner, in his defence, that many have suffered innocently, though on
+the strongest presumptions, and I must add that the character of a young
+gentleman is too tender a thing to be sported with. After all, I do not
+presume to direct you. I would only advise you to think of the matter
+impartially; a verdict given from such principles of action, though it
+may tend to lead to a mistake, can never be attended with reproach.
+
+(The jury then went out of court, and returned in about an hour and a
+quarter.)
+
+_Judge._ Gentlemen of the jury, are you agreed in your verdict?
+
+_Jury._ We cannot determine, and therefore beg to leave it special.
+
+The judge immediately quitted the chair, which was soon after filled by
+the tutor, and the judge took the place of the secretary. Henry Lenox,
+who had not doubted, as there was no positive proof against him, but
+that he should be acquitted, as soon as he found the jury left it
+special, and that his tutor had taken the chair against him, his heart
+instantly failed him, and everyone took notice of the alteration of his
+countenance. Judge Meanwell then went all through the evidence, which,
+being finished, the tutor thus addressed Henry Lenox:
+
+'Henry Lenox, I am unhappy for you in finding that to the crime of theft
+you have added the grievous guilt of a lie. By your artful defence, you
+have so far baffled the jury as to make them doubtful of the clearest
+thing in the world. Do not foolishly imagine that you have any
+compliment to pay yourself on this score; the most shining abilities,
+when used to deceive and mislead, to trick and cozen mankind, and to
+persuade them out of their lawful property, become the most dangerous
+possessions, and are as mischievous as plagues, pestilence, and famine.
+How can you dare to arrogate to yourself that part of philosophy which
+teaches you to look upon the luxuries of life with indifference, while
+your heart must tell you that you have not the least claim to it, and
+that you sacrifice your character and reputation to obtain luxurious
+trifles? They who are capable of deceiving in small concerns will not
+scruple to be guilty of injustice in matters of the highest moment. No
+one is wicked all at once; they harden their hearts by degrees against
+the truth, and at last are totally blind to it. Such conduct as yours
+promises nothing but the most fatal events; but it is my place to
+destroy it in its bud; and be assured that, though the jury could not
+see into your guilt, I can most clearly; and I do further tell you that
+unless you confess your fault, ask pardon, promise to do so no more, and
+make it your study to keep your word, I will treat you with the utmost
+severity. I will abridge you of every kind of amusement, and will
+confine you from the rest of your schoolfellows, that you may not
+corrupt them. On the other hand, if you confess your crime, I will
+lessen your punishment, and may, perhaps, restore you to my favour.'
+
+Henry Lenox then fell on his knees, and, with tears in his eyes,
+confessed he was guilty, but mentioned nothing of those that ate part of
+it. His master then forgave him, on his most faithful promises of future
+amendment; and those who had been evidences against him shook hands with
+him, and they were all friends immediately.
+
+
+
+
+Prince Life
+
+
+Chapter I
+
+Once upon a time there was a young Prince who met with a very curious
+kind of misfortune. Most people want something which they cannot get;
+and because they cannot get it, they generally desire it more than
+anything else, which is very foolish, for it would be much better to be
+contented with what they have.
+
+He was a wise fox, my dear Charlie, who thought the grapes were sour
+when he could not reach them. Now the Prince's misfortune consisted in
+this, that he had everything on earth he could want or desire, and a
+little more. He had a fine palace and a fine country, obedient subjects
+and servants, and true friends. When he got up in the morning, there was
+someone ready to put on his clothes for him; when he went to bed at
+night, someone to take them off again. A fairy called Prosperity gave
+him everything he desired as soon as he desired it. If he wanted peaches
+at Christmas, or cool air at mid-summer, the first came instantly from
+his hothouses, and the second was produced by an enormous fan, which
+hung from the top of the room, and was moved by two servants.
+
+But strange to say, the Prince got weary of all this; he was tired of
+wanting nothing. When he sat down to dinner he had but little appetite,
+because he had had such a good breakfast; he hardly knew which coat to
+put on, they were all so beautiful; and when he went to bed at night,
+though the bed was as soft as a white cloud, he could not sleep, for he
+was not tired.
+
+There was only one ugly thing in the whole palace, which was a little,
+drowsy, grey dwarf, left there by the fairy Prosperity. He kept yawning
+all day, and very often set the Prince yawning, too, only to look at
+him. This dwarf they called Satiety, and he followed the Prince about
+wherever he went.
+
+One day the Prince asked him what he was yawning for, and Satiety
+answered:
+
+'Because I have nothing to do, and nothing to wish for, my Prince.'
+
+'I suppose that is the reason why I yawn, too,' replied the Prince.
+
+'Rather is it having me always with you,' answered Satiety.
+
+'Then get away and leave me,' said the Prince.
+
+'I cannot do that,' answered Satiety. 'You can go from me, but I cannot
+go from you; I can never leave you as long as you remain in the palace
+of Prosperity.'
+
+'Then I will have you turned out,' said the Prince.
+
+'No one can do that,' said Satiety, 'but Misfortune, and he is a very
+capricious person. Though he is a very disagreeable monster, some people
+seem to court him, but cannot get him to come near them; while to a
+great many he comes unawares, and catches them, though they fly from
+him eagerly. I tell you, Prince, you can go from me, but I cannot go
+from you as long as you remain in the palace of Prosperity.'
+
+That night, when he went to his soft bed, the Prince thought very much
+as to the conversation he had held with Satiety, and he resolved to go
+out of the palace for a time, just to get rid of the ugly little grey,
+yawning dwarf.
+
+The very resolution seemed to do him good, and he slept better that
+night after he had made it than he had done for many a night before.
+
+
+Chapter II
+
+The next morning when he rose he felt quite refreshed, and he said to a
+groom: 'Bring me my stout horse, Expedition; I am going out to take a
+ride all alone.'
+
+The groom answered not a word, for in that palace everyone obeyed the
+Prince at once, and nobody troubled him but the ugly little dwarf,
+Satiety. As he went away, however, the groom said to himself with a
+sigh: 'It is a sad thing to be in the wide world all alone. My Prince
+does not know what it is. But let him try; it may be better for him.'
+
+He accordingly brought the horse to the palace-door. But when the Prince
+came down he felt quite well, and, looking about amongst all his
+attendants, he could only catch a distant glimpse of Satiety standing
+yawning behind. For a minute he was half-inclined not to go, for he did
+not mind seeing Satiety at a distance if he did not come near. But the
+groom, whose name was Resolution, seeing him hesitate, said: 'You had
+better go, my Prince, as you determined; it may do you good.' And a
+chamberlain called Effort helped him on his horse.
+
+At first, as the Prince rode along, everything was quite delightful to
+him. He seemed to breathe more freely now that he was no more troubled
+with Satiety. The flowers looked bright, and the sky beautiful, for a
+cloud or two here and there only gave variety. The very air seemed
+fresher than it had been in the sheltered gardens of the palace, and the
+Prince said to himself: 'What a delightful country this is, just on the
+verge of the land of Prosperity.'
+
+Just then he saw a countryman gathering grapes in a vineyard, and every
+now and then putting some into his mouth, and the Prince asked him whose
+fine estate it was that he was passing through.
+
+'It belongs to a gentleman and lady equally, sir,' replied the good man;
+'they are called Activity and Ease. They are the happiest couple ever
+seen. When Activity is tired, Ease takes his head upon her lap; and soon
+as she is weary of her burden, Activity jumps up and relieves her from
+it.'
+
+'But to whom does that more barren country just beyond belong?' asked
+the Prince. 'And what is that great thick wood I see farther on still?'
+
+'That is the land of Labour and the Forest of Adversity,' said the man.
+'I would advise you to get through them as soon as possible, for the
+first you will find very wearisome, and the second exceedingly
+unpleasant, although people do say that there is a great deal of very
+good fruit in the forest; only one gets well-nigh torn to pieces with
+the thorns before one can reach it.'
+
+The Prince determined to follow his advice, and rode on. There was not
+anything very tempting to him as he passed through the land of Labour,
+and it seemed a long and weary way from the beginning to the end of it.
+But the forest, even at its entrance, was very dark and gloomy indeed.
+Thick trees crossed each other overhead, and shut out the bright,
+cheerful daylight. He could hardly see his way along the narrow,
+tortuous paths, and the thorns which the peasant had spoken of ran into
+him continually, for they grew high as well as thick, and crossed the
+path in every direction. He began heartily to repent that he had quitted
+the palace of Prosperity, and wished himself back again with all his
+heart, thinking that he should care little about yawning Satiety if he
+could but get out of the thorns of Adversity. Indeed, he tried to turn
+his horse back; but he found it more difficult than he imagined, for, as
+I have told you, the road was very narrow and those thorns hedged it on
+every side. There was nothing for it, in short, but to try and force his
+way on through the wood, in the hope of finding something better beyond.
+
+The Prince did not know which way to take, indeed, and he tried a great
+number of paths, but in vain. Still there were the same thorns and the
+same gloomy darkness. He was hungry and thirsty, and he looked round for
+those fruits he had heard of; but he could see none of them at the time,
+and the more he sought his way out, the deeper he seemed to get into the
+forest. The air was very sultry and oppressive, too; he grew weary and
+faint, quite sick at heart, and even the limbs of his good horse seemed
+to be failing him, and hardly able to carry him on.
+
+Dark as it all was, it at length begin to grow darker, and he perceived
+that night was coming, so that the poor Prince began to give up all
+hope, and to think that there would be nothing for him but to lie down
+and die in despair, when suddenly he caught a sort of twinkling light
+through the thick bushes, which seemed to lie in the way he was going,
+and on he went, slowly enough, poor man! But still the light was before
+him, till suddenly he came to a great rock, overgrown in many places
+with briars and brambles. In the midst of it, however, was the mouth of
+a large cave, with great masses of stone hanging over, as if ready to
+fall on a traveller's head. It was a very stern and gloomy-looking place
+indeed, with clefts and crevices and ragged crags all around. But a few
+steps in the cave someone seemed to have built themselves a house; for
+it was blocked up with large, unhewn boards of wood, and in this
+partition there was a door and a window, through which came the light he
+had seen. The Prince dismounted from his horse, and though he did not
+know who might be within, he thought it best to knock at the door, and
+ask for food and shelter.
+
+The moment he knocked a loud, hoarse voice cried:
+
+'Come in!' and tying his horse to a tree, he opened the door.
+
+
+Chapter III
+
+Now, whatever the poor Prince had expected to find, he was certainly
+disappointed; for that thicket of Adversity is full of disappointments,
+as everyone knows who has travelled through it. He had thought he should
+see some poor woodman or honest peasant, who would welcome him to his
+homely hut in the rock with kindness and benevolence; but instead of
+that he beheld, seated at the table, carving away at a piece of stick by
+the light of a very small twinkling candle, one of the most tremendous
+monsters ever man's eyes lighted upon. In shape he was like a man, but
+he was a great deal stronger than any man. His face looked as if it were
+cast in iron, so hard and rigid were all the features; and there was an
+everlasting frown planted on his brow. His hands were long and sinewy,
+with terrible sharp claws upon them; and his feet were so large and
+heavy that they seemed as if they would crush anything they would set
+upon to pieces.
+
+The poor Prince, though he was a very brave young man, stopped and
+hesitated at the sight of this giant; but the monster, without ever
+turning his head, cried out again: 'Come in! Why do you pause? All men
+must obey me, and I am the only one that all men do obey.'
+
+'You must be a mighty monarch, then,' said the young Prince, taking
+courage. 'Pray, what is your name?'
+
+'My name is Necessity,' answered the other in his thundering voice; 'and
+some people give me bad names, and call me "Hard Necessity" and "Dire
+Necessity"; but, nevertheless, I often lead men to great things and
+teach them useful arts if they do but struggle with me valiantly.'
+
+'Then I wish you would lead me to where I can get some rest,' said the
+Prince, 'and teach me how I can procure food for myself and my poor
+famishing horse.'
+
+The monster rose up almost as tall as a steeple and suddenly laid his
+great clutches upon the Prince's shoulders, saying: 'I will do both, if
+you do but wrestle with me courageously. You must do it, for there is no
+other way of escaping from my hands.'
+
+The Prince had never been handled so roughly before, and as he was
+brave, strong, and active, he made a great effort to free himself, and
+tried a thousand ways, but to no purpose. The giant did not hurt him,
+however, though he pressed him very hard, and at length he cried out:
+'Ho, ho! you are a brave young man! Leave off struggling, and you shall
+have some food and drink, such as you would never have tasted had you
+not come to me.'
+
+Thereupon he led him to his own coarse wooden table, and set before him
+half of a hard brown loaf and a pitcher of water; but so hungry and
+thirsty was the Prince that the bread seemed to him the best he had ever
+eaten, and the water sweeter than any in the world.
+
+'Unfasten your horse's bridle,' said Necessity, when the Prince had
+done, 'and I will soon teach him where to find something to feed upon.'
+
+The Prince did as the giant told him at once, and then his stern-looking
+companion pointed to a wooden bedstead in a dark corner of the cave,
+which looked as hard as his own face, saying: 'There, lie down and
+sleep.'
+
+'I can never sleep on that thing,' said the Prince.
+
+'Ho, ho!' cried the other; 'Necessity can make any bed soft,' and taking
+a bundle of straw, he threw it down on the bedstead.
+
+
+Chapter IV
+
+Sleep was sweeter to the Prince that night than it had ever been upon a
+bed of down, and when he rose the next morning the monster's features
+did not seem half so stern and forbidding as they had done at first. The
+inside of the cave, too, looked much more light and blithesome, though
+it was a dark and frowning place enough still, with hard rock all round,
+and nothing but one window to let in a little sunshine.
+
+Necessity, however, did not intend to keep the Prince there, and as
+soon as he was up the giant said to him: 'Come, trudge; you must quit my
+cave, and go on.'
+
+'You must open the door for me, then,' said the Prince; 'for the bolt is
+so high up I cannot reach it.'
+
+'You cannot get out by the door through which you came in,' said the
+giant, 'for it is the door of Idleness. There is but one way for you to
+get out, and that I will show you.'
+
+So, taking him by the hand, he led him on into a very dark part of the
+cave, which went a long way under ground, and then said to him: 'You
+must now go on until you come to a great house, where you will find an
+old woman, who will give you your meals at least.'
+
+'But I want to return to my own palace of Prosperity,' replied the
+Prince.
+
+'She will show you the way,' replied the monster, 'and without her you
+will never find it. Go on at once, and don't stand talking.'
+
+'But I cannot see the path,' said the Prince.
+
+'You must find it,' said Necessity, and gave him a great push, which
+sent him on at a very rapid rate.
+
+For some time he continued to grope his way almost in darkness, but soon
+a light began to shine before him, which grew bigger and bigger as he
+advanced, and he perceived that he was coming to another mouth of the
+cave, leading to an open, but very rough country. The Prince was very
+glad indeed to issue forth and breathe the fresh air, and he looked at
+the clear sky with great satisfaction. Just before him, however, there
+was a large house, with a great number of doors and windows; and as he
+felt very hungry, he determined to knock, and see if he could get any
+breakfast.
+
+Almost as soon as he had touched the knocker the door was opened by a
+little old woman, plainly dressed, but neat and tidy; and when the
+Prince told her who he was, and what he wanted, she answered him with a
+good-humoured smile, very different from the frown of stern Necessity:
+'Everyone can have food in my house who chooses to work for it; nobody
+without. I can help you on your way, too; and as for your poor horse you
+talk about, he shall be provided for. My name is Industry, and Industry
+always takes care of her beasts. Come in, young man; come in.'
+
+The Prince went in with a glad step, and found the house quite full of
+people, all as busy as bees in a field of clover, and all looking as
+bright and cheerful as if they had washed their faces in sunshine.
+
+It would take me an hour to tell you all the different things they were
+employed in, everyone working by himself on his separate task, although
+two or three were often seen doing different pieces of the same work.
+But there were two very nice, pretty girls there whom I must speak of,
+who seemed to be handmaidens to the mistress of the house. One was a
+thoughtful-looking, careful girl, who was busy in every part of the room
+alternately, picking up all the little odds and ends which were left
+after any piece of work was completed--little bits of string, ends of
+tape or thread, stray nails, chips of wood, or pieces of paper. These,
+as soon as she had gathered them up, she put safely by, where she could
+find them again; and it is wonderful how often she was called upon by
+the workmen for some little scrap or another, just sufficient to
+complete what they were about. Her name was Economy.
+
+The other was a brighter, quicker-looking person, with very clear eyes,
+like two stars, who went continually through the room, putting
+everything to rights. If a chair was out of its place, or a table turned
+awry, or a tool put down where it should not be she could not bear to
+see it for a minute, but put all things straight again, so that nobody
+was at a loss where to find anything. She was called Order.
+
+The hungry Prince was somewhat mortified to find a good, large piece of
+work assigned him to do before he could get his breakfast, and at first
+he was exceedingly awkward, and did not know how to set about it; but
+Industry showed him the way, Order helped him a good deal, and Economy
+supplied him with the materials.
+
+
+Chapter V
+
+At the end of an hour he had completed his task, and the old lady patted
+him on the shoulder, saying, 'Well done; you are a very good young man.
+Now Industry will give you your breakfast, and help you on the way to a
+very nice place, where you will get all you desire.'
+
+Thus saying, she led him into a great hall, where there was a vast
+number of people, all eating rich fruits, with a somewhat hard-favoured
+dame, whom they called Labour, scattering sugar on the different dishes.
+
+When the Prince heard her name, he asked one of the people near if that
+was really Labour, saying, 'I passed through her land not long ago, and
+it seemed so poor and hard a country that I should have thought it
+produced nothing good.'
+
+'That is a mistake,' said the other. 'That is the land where grows the
+sugar-cane, and Labour always sweetens the food of Industry.'
+
+As soon as his breakfast was over, the Prince was taken to another door,
+and shown a road which was very narrow at first, but seemed to grow
+wider and wider as it went on.
+
+'You have nothing to do but to walk straight forward,' said Industry,
+'neither to turn to the right nor to the left. Keep yourself upright, so
+that you may have that distant mountain peak before your eyes, and don't
+suffer yourself to grow faint or get tired. If you should have any doubt
+or difficulty, you will find someone on the road who will show you the
+way. But only remember always to keep straight forward, and don't be
+tempted to turn aside.'
+
+'What is the name of this road?' asked the Prince.
+
+'It is called the "Right Path,"' was the reply; and on he set upon his
+way with a stout heart. Nevertheless, he began to get somewhat tired
+before an hour was over, although the road was pleasant enough to walk
+in. There were beautiful green meadows on every side, and
+richly-coloured flowers, and what seemed very delicious fruit; and here
+and there, at a little distance, were pleasant groves, with a number of
+gay birds, singing very sweetly.
+
+At the end of an hour and a half the Prince became hungry and thirsty
+again, as well as tired, and he said to himself, 'There could be no
+great harm surely in going across that meadow and gathering some of that
+fruit, to eat under the shade of the trees, while the birds sing over my
+head. I do not know how far I have to go. I see no end to this long,
+straight road. I think I will try and rest for a little under those
+trees. I can easily find my way back again.'
+
+But just at that moment, luckily for himself, the Prince spied a man
+trudging on before him, and he hurried after, saying to himself, 'I will
+ask him how far I have to go, and whether I have time to stop.'
+
+
+Chapter VI
+
+The man did not walk very fast, but he kept steadily on, with a great
+pike-staff in his hand; and though the Prince called after him as soon
+as he was within hearing, he did not halt for a moment, or even turn his
+head, but trudged onward, saying, 'Come along, come along; one never
+gets to the end of one's journey if one stops to chatter by the way.'
+
+At length the Prince came up with him, and said in a civil tone, 'Pray
+can you tell me whither this road leads, and if it will be very long
+before I get to some house where I can find rest and food.'
+
+'It leads to a very fine and beautiful castle,' replied the other
+somewhat doggedly, and still walking on. 'I think, if you come along
+with me, you will get there in time. I am generally well received there,
+and in some sort may call myself the master of the house, so that those
+who go with me are generally made welcome by my lady, who, though she is
+sometimes a little whimsical, is the most charming person in the world
+when she smiles upon me. But you must keep on steadily with me; for if
+you stop or turn aside, a thousand to one you will be lost.'
+
+When the Prince found him so communicative, he asked him if they could
+not cross one of the meadows to refresh themselves a little, and told
+him how he had been tempted to do so just before he saw him.
+
+'Lucky you did not,' answered the other; 'for those meadows are full of
+swamps and quagmires, the groves filled with snakes, and many of the
+fruits poisonous. You might have got yourself into such troubles that
+not even I could have helped you out of them.'
+
+'If it is not improper, may I ask your name?' said the Prince.
+
+'Come along,' answered the other. 'Names matter little; but if you want
+to know mine, it is Perseverance.'
+
+Not long after the Prince began to think he saw several tall towers
+glittering before him in the distance, with some misty clouds round
+about them, which only seemed to make them look the more beautiful.
+
+'What a fine castle!' he exclaimed.
+
+'That is where I am leading you,' answered the other; and the first
+prospect is always very charming. But we have some way to go yet, I can
+tell you, and not a little to overcome. You would never get there
+without me; so come on, and do not be daunted at anything you see.'
+
+The Prince soon found that his companion's warning was just. The way did
+seem very long; and sometimes, as they went over hill and dale, the
+sight of the beautiful castle, which cheered him so much, was quite shut
+out from his eyes, and at length, when they were coming very near it,
+with nothing but one valley between them and the building, he perceived
+that the road went over a narrow drawbridge, and saw two terrible
+monsters lying close beside the way. Their bodies were like those of
+lions, very large and very strong, but they had necks like that of a
+snake, and from each neck issued a hundred horrible heads, all differing
+in kind from one another.
+
+The poor Prince was alarmed, and said to his companion: 'Do you see
+those horrible brutes? Is there no other way into the castle but between
+them?'
+
+'There are a thousand ways into the castle,' replied his companion, 'but
+every way is guarded by monsters just like those. But do not be alarmed.
+Go on with me, and I will help you. Besides, someone will come out of
+the castle, most likely, to give us assistance.'
+
+
+Chapter VII
+
+Upon these words, the Prince went on more cheerfully, especially when he
+saw a man come running down from the gate of the castle as they
+approached the drawbridge.
+
+'Ay,' said his companion, stepping on without stopping a moment, 'there
+comes my friend Courage to help us. He is a good, serviceable fellow.'
+
+Just as he spoke, the two monsters sprang forward, and the one which was
+nearest to Perseverance growled terribly at him; but he struck him a
+blow with his pike-staff, which knocked him down and cowed him entirely;
+and there he lay, with all his hundred heads prostrated in a manner
+which the Prince could hardly have thought possible. The other brute
+sprang right at the Prince himself, as if to destroy him, so that he was
+inclined to draw back; but the man Courage, who had run down from the
+castle, put his foot upon the creature's snaky neck, and crushed it into
+the earth.
+
+'Go on, go on, young man!' he cried. 'These are terrible monsters truly,
+but you see our friend Perseverance has vanquished Difficulty, and I
+have trampled upon Danger.'
+
+As he spoke, the Prince passed on rapidly over the drawbridge; and when
+he stood under the gate of the castle, Perseverance took him by the hand
+with a smiling air, and led him in, saying: 'Now I will conduct you to
+my lady, Success.'
+
+[Illustration: _The Prince slays the monster with a hundred horrible
+heads.--Page 86._]
+
+At the very sound the poor Prince seemed quite refreshed, forgot all the
+weary way he had travelled, the dark forest of Adversity, the grim frown
+of Necessity, the faintness and the weariness, and hundred-headed
+Difficulty and Danger. But he was more rejoiced still when, on entering
+the building, he found himself suddenly, all at once, in the great hall
+of his own palace of Prosperity, with a beautiful lady, all smiles,
+standing ready to receive him with a crown in her hand.
+
+'Come hither, Prince,' she said, 'and receive this crown, which I never
+bestow on any but my greatest favourites. It is called the crown of
+Contentment. I reserve it for those who, led on by Perseverance, come to
+me by the Right Path, in spite of Difficulty and Danger. Those who
+arrive at my presence by any of the many other roads that are open to
+mankind I give over to the charge of some of my inferior attendants,
+such as Pride, Vanity, or Ambition, who amuse themselves by making them
+play all manner of strange tricks.'
+
+Thus saying, she put the crown upon his head, and the Prince found the
+most delightful tranquil feeling spread through his whole body.
+Nevertheless, he could not help looking about almost instantly for the
+figure of the ugly little grey dwarf; and, as he could not see him
+anywhere, he said to the beautiful lady: 'Where is that hideous, yawning
+Satiety? I hope he has left the palace.'
+
+'He may be hanging about in some dark corners of the palace,' answered
+the lady, 'or hiding amongst the roses in your garden of Pleasure; but
+he will never appear in your presence again, so long as you wear that
+crown upon your head; for there is a rich jewel called Moderation in the
+crown of Contentment which is too bright and pure to be looked upon by
+Satiety.'
+
+
+
+
+The Farm-Yard Journal
+
+
+    Dear Tom,
+
+'Since we parted at the breaking-up, I have been for most of the time at
+a pleasant farm in Hertfordshire, where I have employed myself in
+rambling about the country, and assisting, as well as I could, at the
+work going on at home and in the fields. On wet days, and in the
+evenings, I have amused myself with keeping a journal of all the great
+events that have happened among us; and hoping that when you are tired
+of the bustle of your busy town you may receive some entertainment from
+comparing our transactions with yours, I have copied out for your
+perusal one of the days in my memorandum-book.
+
+'Pray let me know in return what you are doing, and believe me,
+
+                    'Your very affectionate friend,
+
+                          'RICHARD MARKWELL.'
+
+[Illustration: _She kicked up her hind legs, and threw down the
+milk-pail.--Page 93._]
+
+'_June 10._--Last night we had a dreadful alarm. A violent scream was
+heard from the hen-roost; the geese all set up a cackle, and the dogs
+barked. Ned, the boy who lies over the stable, jumped up and ran into
+the yard, when he observed a fox galloping away with a chicken in his
+mouth, and the dogs on full chase after him. They could not overtake
+him, and soon returned. Upon further examination, the large white cock
+was found lying on the ground all bloody, with his comb torn almost off,
+and his feathers all ruffled; and the speckled hen and three chickens
+lay dead beside him. The cock recovered, but appeared terribly
+frightened. It seems that the fox had jumped over the garden hedge, and
+then, crossing part of the yard behind the straw, had crept into the
+hen-roost through a broken pale. John, the carpenter, was sent for to
+make all fast, and prevent the like mischief again.
+
+'Early this morning the brindled cow was delivered of a fine bull-calf.
+Both are likely to do well. The calf is to be fattened for the butcher.
+
+'The duck-eggs that were sitten upon by the old black hen were hatched
+this day, and the ducklings all directly ran into the pond, to the great
+terror of the hen, who went round and round, clucking with all her
+might, in order to call them out, but they did not regard her. An old
+drake took the little ones under his care, and they swam about very
+merrily.
+
+'As Dolly this morning was milking the new cow that was bought at the
+fair she kicked with her hind legs, and threw down the milk-pail, at the
+same time knocking Dolly off her stool into the dirt. For this offence
+the cow was sentenced to have her head fastened to the rack, and her
+legs tied together.
+
+'A kite was observed to hover a long while over the yard with an
+intention of carrying off some of the young chickens; but the hens
+called their broods together under their wings, and the cocks put
+themselves in order of battle, so that the kite was disappointed. At
+length one chicken, not minding its mother, but straggling heedlessly to
+a distance, was descried by the kite, who made a sudden swoop, and
+seized it in his talons. The chicken cried out, and the cocks and hens
+all screamed, when Ralph, the farmer's son, who saw the attack, snatched
+up a loaded gun, and just as the kite was flying off with his prey,
+fired and brought him dead to the ground, along with the poor chicken,
+who was killed in the fall. The dead body of the kite was nailed up
+against the wall, by way of warning to his wicked comrades.
+
+'In the forenoon we were alarmed with strange noises approaching us, and
+looking out we saw a number of people with frying pans, warming pans,
+tongs and pokers, beating, ringing, and making all possible din. We soon
+discovered them to be our neighbours of the next farm in pursuit of a
+swarm of bees which was hovering in the air over their heads. The bees
+at length alighted on the tall pear tree in our orchard, and hung in a
+bunch from one of the boughs. A ladder was got, and a man ascending with
+gloves on his hands, and an apron tied over his head, swept them into a
+hive, which was rubbed on the inside with honey and sweet herbs. But as
+he was descending, some bees which had got under his gloves stung him in
+such a manner that he hastily threw down the hive, upon which the
+greater part of the bees fell out, and began in a rage to fly among the
+crowd, and sting all whom they lit upon. Away scampered the people, the
+women shrieking, the children roaring; and poor Adam, who had held the
+hive, was assailed so furiously that he was obliged to throw himself on
+the ground, and creep under the gooseberry bushes. At length the bees
+began to return to the hive, in which the queen bee had remained; and
+after a while, all being quietly settled, a cloth was thrown over it,
+and the swarm was carried home.
+
+'About noon three pigs broke into the garden, where they were rioting
+upon the carrots and turnips, and doing a great deal of mischief by
+trampling the beds and rooting up the plants with their snouts, when
+they were spied by old Towzer, the mastiff, who ran among them, and
+laying hold of their long ears with his teeth, made them squeal most
+dismally, and get out of the garden as fast as they could.
+
+'Roger, the ploughman, when he came for his dinner, brought word that he
+had discovered a partridge's nest with sixteen eggs in the home field,
+upon which the farmer went out and broke them all, saying that he did
+not choose to rear birds upon his corn which he was not allowed to
+scratch, but must leave to some qualified sportsman, who would besides
+break down his fences in the pursuit.
+
+'A sheep washing was held this day at the mill-pool, when seven score
+were well washed, and then penned in the high meadow to dry. Many of
+them made great resistance at being thrown into the water, and the old
+ram, being dragged to the brink by a boy at each horn, and a third
+pushing behind, by a sudden spring threw two of them into the water, to
+the great diversion of the spectators.
+
+'Towards the dusk of the evening the Squire's mongrel greyhound, which
+had been long suspected of worrying sheep, was caught in the fact. He
+had killed two lambs, and was making a hearty meal upon one of them,
+when he was disturbed by the approach of the shepherd's boy, and
+directly leaped the hedge and made off. The dead bodies were taken to
+the Squire's, with an indictment of wilful murder against the dog. But
+when they came to look for the culprit, he was not to be found in any
+part of the premises, and is supposed to have fled his country through
+consciousness of his heinous offence.
+
+'Joseph, who sleeps in the garret at the old end of the house, after
+having been some time in bed, came downstairs in his shirt, as pale as
+ashes, and frightened the maids, who were going up. It was some time
+before he could tell what was the matter. At length he said he had heard
+some dreadful noises overhead, which he was sure must be made by some
+ghost or evil spirit. Nay, he thought he had seen something moving,
+though he owned he durst hardly lift up his eyes. He concluded with
+declaring that he would rather sit up all night in the kitchen than go
+to his room again. The maids were almost as much alarmed as he, and did
+not know what to do; but the master, overhearing their talk, came out
+and insisted upon their accompanying him to the spot, in order to search
+into the affair. They all went into the garret, and for a while heard
+nothing, when the master ordered the candle to be taken away, and
+everyone to keep quite still. Joseph and the maids stuck close to each
+other, and trembled in every limb. At length a kind of groaning or
+snoring began to be heard, which grew louder and louder, with intervals
+of a strange sort of hissing. "That's it!" whispered Joseph, drawing
+back towards the door. The maids were ready to sink, and even the farmer
+himself was a little disconcerted. The noise seemed to come from the
+rafters near the thatch. In a while, a glimpse of moonlight shining
+through a hole at the place plainly discovered the shadow of something
+stirring, and on looking intently somewhat like feathers were perceived.
+The farmer now began to suspect what the case was, and ordering up a
+short ladder, bid Joseph climb to the spot, and thrust his hand into
+the hole. This he did rather unwillingly, and soon drew it back, crying
+loudly that he was bit. However, gathering courage, he put it in again,
+and pulled out a large white owl, another at the same time being heard
+to fly away. The cause of the alarm was now made clear enough, and poor
+Joseph, after being heartily jeered by the maids, though they had been
+as much frightened as he, sneaked into bed again, and the house soon
+became quiet.'
+
+
+
+
+The Fruits of Disobedience
+
+or
+
+The Kidnapped Child
+
+
+In a beautiful villa, on the banks of the Medway resided a gentleman
+whose name was Darnley, who had, during the early part of life, filled a
+post of some importance about the Court, and even in its decline
+preserved that elegance of manners which so peculiarly marks a finished
+gentleman.
+
+The loss of a beloved wife had given a pensive cast to his features, and
+a seriousness to his deportment, which many people imagined proceeded
+from haughtiness of disposition, yet nothing could be further from Mr.
+Darnley's character, for he was affable, gentle, benevolent, and humane.
+
+His family consisted of an only sister, who, like himself, had lost the
+object of her tenderest affection, but who, in dividing her attention
+between her brother and his amiable children, endeavoured to forget her
+own misfortunes.
+
+Mr. Darnley's fortune was sufficiently great to enable him to place his
+daughters in the first school in London, but he preferred having them
+under his immediate instruction, and as Mrs. Collier offered to assist
+him in their education he resolved for some years not to engage a
+governess, as Nurse Chapman was one of those worthy creatures to whose
+care he could securely trust them.
+
+An old friend of Mr. Darnley's had recently bought a house at Rochester,
+and that gentleman and his sister were invited to pass a few days there,
+and as Emily grew rather too big for the nurse's management Mrs. Collier
+resolved to make her of the party, leaving Sophia, Amanda, and Eliza
+under that good woman's protection.
+
+It was Mr. Darnley's wish that the young folks should rise early and
+take a long walk every morning before breakfast, but they were strictly
+ordered never to go beyond their own grounds unless their aunt or father
+accompanied them. This order they had frequently endeavoured to persuade
+Nurse Chapman to disregard, but, faithful to the trust reposed in her,
+she always resisted their urgent entreaties.
+
+The morning after Mr. Darnley went to Rochester the poor woman found
+herself thoroughly indisposed, and wholly incapable of rising at the
+accustomed hour. The children, however, were dressed for walking, and
+the nursemaid charged not to go beyond the shrubbery, and they all
+sallied out in high good humour.
+
+'Now, Susan,' said Sophia, as soon as they entered the garden, 'this is
+the only opportunity you may ever have of obliging us. Do let us walk to
+the village, and then you know you can see your father and mother.'
+
+'La, missy!' replied the girl, 'why, you know 'tis as much as my place
+is worth if Nurse Chapman should find out.'
+
+'Find it out indeed,' said Amanda; 'how do you think she is to find it
+out? Come, do let us go, there's a dear good creature.'
+
+'Yes, dear, dear Susan, do let us go,' said Eliza, skipping on before
+them, 'and I'll show you the way, for I walked there last summer with
+father.'
+
+Whether it was the wish of obliging the young ladies, or the desire of
+seeing her parents, I cannot pretend to say, but in a luckless hour
+Susan yielded, and the party soon reached the village.
+
+Susan's mother was delighted at seeing her, and highly honoured by the
+young ladies' presence.
+
+'Oh, sweet, dear creatures!' said the old woman, 'I must get something
+for them to eat after their long walk, and my oven's quite hot, and I
+can bake them a little cake in a quarter of an hour, and I'll milk Jenny
+in ten minutes.'
+
+The temptation of her hot cake and new milk was not to be withstood, and
+Susan began taking down some smart china cups, which were arranged in
+form upon the mantelpiece, and carefully dusted them for the young
+ladies' use.
+
+Eliza followed the old woman into the cowhouse, and began asking a
+thousand questions, when her attention was suddenly attracted by the
+appearance of a tame lamb, who went up bleating to its mistress with a
+view of asking its accustomed breakfast.
+
+'You must wait a little, Billy,' said the woman, 'and let your betters
+be served before you. Don't you see that we have got gentlefolks to
+breakfast with us this morning?'
+
+Eliza was so delighted with the beauty of the little animal that she
+wanted to kiss it, and attempted to restrain it for that purpose, whilst
+Billy, ungrateful for her intended kindness, gave a sudden spring and
+frisked away.
+
+Eliza followed in hopes of being able to catch him, but he ran baaing
+along into the high road.
+
+A woman whose appearance was descriptive of poverty but whose smiling
+countenance indicated good nature, at that moment happened to pass, and,
+accosting Eliza in a tone of familiarity, said: 'That's not half such a
+pretty lamb, miss, as I have got at home, and not a quarter so tame, for
+if you did but say, Bob, he'd follow you from one end of the town to the
+other, and then he'll fetch and carry like a dog, stand up on his hind
+legs, when my husband says "Up" for the thing, and play more tricks than
+a young kitten.'
+
+'Oh, the pretty creature,' replied Eliza, 'how I should like to see it!'
+
+'Well, come along with me, miss,' said the woman, 'for I only lives just
+across the next field, but you must run as hard as you can, because my
+husband is going to work, and he generally takes Bob with him.'
+
+'Well, make haste, then,' said Eliza.
+
+'Give me your hand, miss,' replied the woman; 'for we can run faster
+together. But there goes my husband, I declare; and there's Bob, as
+usual, skipping on before.'
+
+'Where? where?' exclaimed Eliza, stretching her little neck as far as
+she possibly could, to see if she could discern the lamb.
+
+'You are not tall enough,' said the artful creature; 'but let me lift
+you up, miss, and then I dare say you will see them;' and, instantly
+catching her up, she cried out: 'Look directly towards the steeple,
+miss; but I'll run with you in my arms, and I warrant we'll soon
+overtake them.'
+
+Eliza looked, but looked in vain, and, perceiving the woman had soon
+carried her out of sight of the cottage, begged she would set her down,
+as she dare not go any farther.
+
+The vile creature was absolutely incapable of replying, for her breath
+was nearly exhausted by the rapidity of the motion, and Eliza continued
+entreating her to stop, and struggled violently to elude her grasp.
+
+At length, after a quarter of an hour's exertion, the woman found
+herself incapable of proceeding, and stopped suddenly, sat down on a
+bank, keeping tight hold of Eliza's arms, who cried dreadfully, and
+besought her to let her go.
+
+'Let you go!' she replied; 'what, after all the plague I've had to knap
+you? No, no, you don't catch me at that, I promise you; but be a good
+girl, and don't cry, and then you may see Bob by-and-by, perhaps.'
+
+'Oh, my sisters! my sisters! Let me go to my sisters!' cried the child.
+
+'I'll find plenty of sisters for you in a few days,' said the vile
+creature; 'but they won't know you in them there fine clothes; so let's
+pull them off in a minute, and then we'll have another run after Bob.'
+
+So saying, she stripped off the white frock, hat, and tippet. The rest
+of the things shared the same fate, and she was compelled to put on some
+old rags which the inhuman creature took out of a bag she carried under
+her petticoat; then, taking a bottle of liquid from the same place, she
+instantly began washing Eliza's face with it, and, notwithstanding all
+her remonstrances, cut her beautiful hair close to her head.
+
+Thus metamorphosed, it would have been impossible even for Mr. Darnley
+to have known his child, and they proceeded onward until her little legs
+would carry her no farther. At this period they were overtaken by the
+Canterbury waggon, and for a mere trifle the driver consented to let
+them ride to London. Eliza's tears continued to flow, but she dared not
+utter a complaint, as her inhuman companion protested she would break
+every bone in her skin if she ventured to make the least noise.
+
+[Illustration: _Cut her beautiful hair close to her head.--Page 102._]
+
+When they arrived in town, she was dragged (for to walk she was unable)
+to a miserable hole down several steps, where they gave her some bread
+and butter to eat, and then desired her to go to bed.
+
+The bed, if such it might be called, was little else than a bundle of
+rags thrown into a corner of the room, with a dirty blanket spread
+across it; and there she was left by her inhuman kidnapper to mourn her
+misfortunes and lament having disregarded her father's injunctions.
+
+The next morning she was forced to rise the moment it was light, and to
+walk as far as her little legs would carry her before they stopped
+anywhere to take refreshment. The second night was passed in a barn, and
+about five o'clock the third afternoon they knocked at the door of a
+neat-looking cottage, where nine or ten children were sitting in a
+little room making lace.
+
+'Why, Peggy,' said the woman, as she opened the door, 'I thought you
+never would have come again! However, I see you have got me a hand at
+last, and God knows I'm enough in want of her; for two of my brats have
+thought proper to fall sick, and I have more to do than ever I had in my
+life.'
+
+On the following day Eliza's filthy rags were all taken off, and she was
+dressed in a tidy, brown stuff gown, a nice clean round-eared cap, and a
+little coloured bib and apron; and she was ordered, if any person asked
+her name, to say it was Biddy Bullen, and that she was niece to the
+woman who employed her.
+
+The severity with which all this wretch's commands were enforced wholly
+prevented any of the helpless victims who were under her protection
+from daring to disobey them; and though most of them were placed under
+her care by the same vile agent who had decoyed Eliza, yet they were all
+tutored to relate similar untruths.
+
+But I now think it is high time to carry my little readers back to the
+cottage scene, where Susan was arranging things in order for breakfast,
+and Sophia and her sister were anxiously watching the moment when the
+cake was pronounced completely ready.
+
+The old woman soon returned with the milk-pail on her arm, and Susan
+eagerly demanded: 'Where's Miss Eliza?'
+
+'Oh, the pretty creature!' replied her mother, 'she'll be here in a
+minute, I warrant her; but she has gone skipping after our Billy, and
+the two sweet innocents they are together.'
+
+She then went to the oven, produced the cake, and began buttering it
+with all expedition, whilst Sophia joyously ran to the door of the
+cowhouse, and began loudly calling her sister Eliza.
+
+No answer being returned, Susan began to feel alarmed, but the young
+ladies told her not to be frightened, as they knew it was only one of
+Eliza's pranks. But, alas! too soon were they convinced it was no joke,
+but some dreadful misfortune must have happened.
+
+'Miss Eliza! Miss Eliza!' was vociferated through the village, not only
+by Susan and her mother, but by all the neighbours who had heard of the
+calamity, whilst her sisters ran about frantic with grief, crying,
+'Eliza, my love! my darling! Oh, if you are hid, for pity's sake speak!'
+
+Nurse Chapman got up about half-past nine, and, hearing the children
+were not returned from their walk, sent the housemaid directly after
+them.
+
+The garden, the shrubbery, and the lawn were all searched without
+success; and just as Betty was returning to inform the nurse they were
+not to be found, she perceived Susan and the two children enter a little
+green gate at the bottom of the shrubbery.
+
+'Where's Miss Eliza?' called Betty, in a voice as loud as she could
+articulate.
+
+'God knows! God knows!' replied the careless girl, sobbing so loud she
+could scarcely speak.
+
+'How! where! when!' said the others. 'Why, poor nurse will go stark,
+staring mad!'
+
+By that time the poor woman had quitted her room, and walked into the
+garden to see what had become of her little charges; and, not directly
+missing Eliza from the group, which was then fast approaching towards
+the house, she called out:
+
+'Come, my dear children--come along! I thought you would never have
+returned again.' And, observing Eliza was not with them, she continued:
+'But, Susan, what's become of my sweet bird? Where's my little darling,
+Miss Eliza?'
+
+'Oh, nurse! nurse!' said Sophia, 'my sister's lost! indeed she's lost!'
+
+'Lost!' exclaimed the poor old woman--'lost! What do you tell me? What
+do I hear? Oh, my master! my dear master! never shall I bear to see his
+face again!'
+
+Susan then repeated every circumstance just as has been related, and
+with sighs and tears bewailed her own folly in suffering herself to be
+over-persuaded. And the children declared they dare not encounter their
+father's displeasure.
+
+The menservants were instantly summoned, and sent on horseback different
+ways. That she had been stolen admitted of no doubt, as there was no
+water near the cottage; and had any accident happened, they must have
+found her, as they had searched every part of the village before they
+ventured to return home.
+
+One servant was sent to Rochester, another towards London, and a third
+and fourth across the country roads; but no intelligence could be
+obtained, or the slightest information gathered, by which the
+unfortunate child could be found, or her wicked decoyer's footsteps
+traced.
+
+When Mr. Darnley was apprised of the calamitous event, the agitation of
+his mind may be easily conceived, but can never be described.
+
+Handbills were instantly circulated all over the country, the child's
+person described, and a reward of five hundred guineas offered for her
+restoration.
+
+Sophia and Amanda were inconsolable, and Susan was ordered to be
+discharged before Mr. Darnley returned home, which he did not for more
+than a month after the melancholy circumstance happened, as he was not
+satisfied with sending messengers in pursuit of his lost treasure, but
+went himself to all those wretched parts of London where poverty and
+vice are known to dwell, in the hope of meeting the object of his
+solicitude, and at length gave up the interesting pursuit, because he
+found his health rendered him incapable of continuing it.
+
+Nine tedious months passed away without any intelligence of the lost
+Eliza; and time, which is a general remedy for all misfortunes, had not
+softened the severity of their affliction. Mrs. Collier had engaged a
+lady to be governess to her nieces, as her attention had been wholly
+devoted to her unfortunate brother, whose agitated state of mind had
+produced a bodily complaint which demanded her unremitting care and
+tenderness.
+
+Although Emily loved Eliza with the fondest affection, yet her grief was
+much less poignant than either of her sisters', as she could not accuse
+herself with being accessory to her loss.
+
+'Never, never shall I forgive myself,' Sophia would often say, 'for
+having deviated from my dear father's command! Oh, so good and indulgent
+as he is to us, how wicked it was to transgress his will! I was the
+eldest, and ought to have known better, and my poor Eliza is the
+sufferer for my crime!'
+
+Thus would she bewail her folly and imprudence, until, agonized by the
+torture of her own reflections, she would sink down in a chair quite
+exhausted, and burst into a flood of tears.
+
+While the family at Darnley Hall were thus a prey to unavailing sorrow,
+the lovely little girl who had occasioned it was beginning to grow more
+reconciled to the cruelty of her destiny, and to support her different
+mode of life with resignation and composure. She had acquired such a
+degree of skill in the art of lacemaking (which was the business her
+employer followed) as generally to be able to perform the tasks which
+were allotted her; and if it so happened she was incapable of doing it,
+Sally Butchell, a child almost two years older than herself, of whom she
+was very fond, was always kind enough to complete it for her.
+
+The cottage in which the vile Mrs. Bullen resided was situated about a
+quarter of a mile from High Wycombe; and whenever she was obliged to go
+to that place, either to purchase or to dispose of her goods, she always
+went either before her family were up, or after they had retired to
+rest, locking the door constantly after her, and putting the key in her
+pocket, so that the poor little souls had no opportunity of telling
+their misfortunes to any human creature.
+
+One intense hot afternoon, in the month of August, as the children were
+sitting hard at work with the door open for the sake of air, an elderly
+lady and gentleman walked up to it, and begged to be accommodated with a
+seat, informing Mrs. Bullen their carriage had broke down a mile
+distant, and they had been obliged to walk in the heat of the sun.
+
+The appearance of so many children, all industriously employed, was a
+sight particularly pleasing to the liberal-minded Mrs. Montague, and she
+immediately began asking the woman several questions about them; but
+there was something of confusion in her manner of replying that called
+forth Mrs. Montague's surprise and astonishment.
+
+'They really are lovely children, my dear,' said she, turning to Mr.
+Montague, who had stood at the door watching the approach of the
+carriage, which he perceived coming forward; 'and as to that little
+creature with the mole under her left eye, I declare I think it is a
+perfect beauty.'
+
+Mr. Montague turned his head, and regarded Eliza with a look that at
+once proved that his sentiments corresponded with those of his lady.
+
+'What is your name, my love?' said he, in a tone of kindness which poor
+Eliza had long been a stranger to.
+
+The child coloured like scarlet, and looked immediately at her inhuman
+employer, who, catching the contagion, replied with evident marks of
+confusion:
+
+'Her name is Biddy Bullen, sir; she's my niece; but 'tis a poor timid
+little fool, and is always in a fright when gentlefolks happen to speak
+to her. Go, Biddy,' she continued--'go up into my bedroom, and mind that
+thread which you'll find upon the reel.'
+
+'You should try to conquer that timidity,' said Mr. Montague, 'by making
+her answer every stranger who speaks to her; but by taking that office
+upon yourself, you absolutely encourage the shyness you complain of.
+Come hither, my little girl,' continued he, observing she was retiring
+upstairs, 'and tell the lady what your name is.'
+
+Encouraged by the kindness of Mr. Montague's address, the agitated child
+obeyed the summons, although Mrs. Bullen attempted to force her into
+resistance.
+
+'Well,' continued the old gentleman, patting her on the cheek, 'and
+where did you get that pretty mole?'
+
+'My mother gave it me, sir,' replied the blushing child; 'but I did not
+see her do it, because Nurse Chapman told me she went to heaven as soon
+as I was born.'
+
+'Your mother! And what was your mother's name?' said Mr. Montague.
+
+'Darnley, sir,' said the child, and suddenly recollecting the lesson
+that had been taught her; 'but my name is Biddy Bullen, and that is my
+aunt.'
+
+'Darnley!' exclaimed Mrs. Montague--'the very child that has been for
+these twelve months past advertised in all the papers'--then turning to
+convince herself of the fact--'and the very mole confirms it.'
+
+Mr. Montague immediately attempted to secure the woman, but her activity
+eluded his grasp, and darting out at the back door she was out of sight
+in a few moments.
+
+'Is she really gone? Is she gone?' all the little voices at once
+demanded, and upon Mr. Montague's assuring them she was really gone for
+ever, their joy broke out in a thousand different ways--some cried, some
+laughed, and others jumped. In short, there never was a scene more
+completely calculated to interest the feelings of a benevolent heart.
+
+Mr. Montague's carriage at this period arrived, and the footman was
+desired to fetch a magistrate from Wycombe, whilst the worthy clergyman
+resolved to remain there until his arrival, and began questioning all
+the children. Two had been there from so early a period that they could
+give no account of their name or origin, but all the rest were so clear
+in their description that the benevolent Mr. Montague had no doubt of
+being able to restore them to their afflicted parents.
+
+The magistrate soon arrived, attended by the worthy rector of the place,
+who, hearing from Mr. Montague's servant that a child had been stolen
+came with the intent of offering his services.
+
+All but Eliza were immediately put under his protection, but Mrs.
+Montague was so anxious she should be their earliest care that she
+begged her husband to order a post-chaise directly, and set off
+immediately for town. This request was willingly complied with, and by
+three o'clock the next afternoon the party arrived at Darnley Hall.
+
+Mrs. Collier was standing at the window when the carriage stopped, and
+looking earnestly at her niece suddenly exclaimed in a tone of rapture:
+'My child! My child! My lost Eliza!'
+
+Mr. Darnley, who was reading, sprang from his seat, and flew to the door
+in an ecstasy of joy. In less than a minute he returned folding his
+Eliza to his throbbing heart. The joyful intelligence ran through the
+house, and the other children impatiently flew to this scene of
+transport.
+
+To describe their feelings or express their felicity would require the
+aid of the most descriptive pen, and even then would be but faintly
+told, and therefore had much better be passed over.
+
+From that moment the children all unanimously agreed strictly to attend
+to their father's orders, and never in the slightest instance act in
+opposition to his will.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Montague were laden with caresses, and earnestly entreated
+to remain Mr. Darnley's guests. The hospitable invitation would have
+been gladly accepted had not the thoughts of the poor children who were
+still at Wycombe seemed to claim his immediate attention, and so great
+was the philanthropy of Mr. Montague's character that he could never
+rest satisfied if a single duty remained unfulfilled.
+
+
+
+
+The Rose's Breakfast
+
+
+The shrubs and flowers, having heard of the Peacock At Home, the
+Butterfly's Ball, and Grasshopper's Feast, Elephant's Ball, and many
+others of equal celebrity, and having been themselves of late much
+introduced into the assemblies of _Ton_, grew so vain as to wish to have
+a gala of their own. They were aware of their want of the organs of
+speech, but knowing they had plenty of Ladies' Tongue among them, and
+that crowded parties neither afforded gratification to the mind, or
+allowed opportunity for conversation, and as they could shake their
+leaves at each other, as well as fine ladies could their heads, they
+were perfectly satisfied with their powers to entertain.
+
+As all their refreshments were composed from air, earth, and water it
+was determined that a fine summer's day after a reviving shower, would
+afford ample regale for a breakfast, which was to begin, like all
+fashionable ones, late in the afternoon, that the genteel flowers might
+be awake. Mrs. Honeysuckle first proposed giving one, but her husband
+was a Dutchman, and would not agree to the bustle and expense, and not
+choosing the risk of separation she for once yielded, and Mrs. Rose,
+being in high beauty, determined to send out her fragrance to invite the
+company, provided she could procure the consent of Mr. Pluto Rose;
+indeed, he never interfered with the pursuits of his wife; he only
+declared he should not appear, and as he was a very dark-looking rose
+without any sweet she was delighted at this declaration, but, though
+much admired in her own little circle, she was unknown in the great
+World, and she was sensible that unless some of the leaders of the _Ton_
+were present her breakfast would be regarded with contempt; she
+therefore consulted two of her friends, Lady Acacia and Mrs. Larch, and
+got Mr. Plane from the east to secure the attendance of his party.
+
+Lady Acacia had just got her niece Robina from America, whom she was
+very solicitous to have properly introduced, having kept very
+indifferent company in her own country, and being handsome, she aspired
+to settling her well. She, of course, aided all in her power to promote
+Mrs. Rose's scheme, and, by being in a higher circle, offered to get all
+the Forest Trees to attend except Lord Oak; but she knew he never
+condescended to go to such meetings. Mrs. Larch, from her connections,
+promised her influence with all the Cedars and Firs, though she was sure
+her cousin from Lebanon would not come, but all the rest yielded easily
+to her entreaties. Mrs. Rose was delighted with the success of Lady
+Acacia and Mrs. Larch in their solicitations with the Forest and Fir
+Trees, whose majestic appearance and respectable characters she imagined
+would dignify her fete, never considering her own littleness might
+appear to them despicable; but from them she had nothing to fear, as
+they were too well bred to attend any meeting to ridicule it. 'Tis true
+when they did grace a public entertainment they kept chiefly together,
+and never so far forgot their consequence as to oppress a humble flower,
+or stoop to notice a forward insignificant one even in the gayest
+attire.
+
+There was an elegant lightness of drapery in Mrs. Birch's dress, but
+poor Lady Aspen had certainly a very trifling way with her in shaking
+continually her leaves, which sounded as if she was tittering at
+everything around. Old Lord Elm was hurt at it, and often hinted to her
+ladyship how improper such behaviour would have been deemed in former
+times. It was, poor thing, in her a natural weakness which she could not
+amend, and it had been copied by some inferior plants who had ignorantly
+supposed it the height of good breeding.
+
+Mrs. Rose, with all her charms, could not aspire to become one of the
+Forest set, though she had hopes she might be reckoned a descendant from
+the famous Roses so well known in the reigns of some of our Henrys,
+Edwards, and Richard III., though she assuredly was of a very different
+extraction; indeed, it was said that she was bred up in a cottage
+garden, but had passed one winter in the hothouse, by which she was
+greatly elated, and now thought from that circumstance she was secure in
+having a large party from thence, not knowing the prejudice it was to
+memory and sight to be constantly for any length of time in such
+artificial air. Had it not been for this breakfast bringing Mrs. Rose
+into notice she would have been totally forgotten by them, but her
+invitation made them soon recollect the dear little creature, and as
+every offer of accommodation was made to entice them to attend, even to
+the promise of being placed near the Burning Bush: for that whatever is
+difficult to obtain is always peculiarly desirable to possess was not
+unknown in the hothouse. Notwithstanding that most of its inhabitants,
+except Lady Sensitive and a few others (who were really too delicate to
+venture out), all anxiously wished to be at Mrs. Rose's, yet they seemed
+to make the waiting on her a very great favour, and their terms vexed
+her greatly--namely, the excluding of many of the common plants or
+natives as they termed them which prevented her from asking some of her
+old acquaintance and near connections, with whom till now she had lived
+in habits of intimacy; besides she had wished to have shown her taste
+and consequence to them, having thorns enough on her stem to have
+pleasure in exciting a little envy; but being afraid these connections
+should be known she excluded every friend she was requested to do, and
+thus the Sweet Briar and many of that rank were left out, yet several
+weeds had the effrontery to get in.
+
+As the hothouse plants always keep together when they do come out, they,
+as usual, did so at Mrs. Rose's, following their constant plan of
+apparent dissatisfaction at everything they met with, and quizzing most
+shamefully all the company. The greenhouse plants in winter follow the
+example of the hothouse in living in their own circle, but at this
+season mix more generally, though, alas! they were nearly as much
+inclined as the hothouse party to quizzing. Mrs. Myrtle and Lady
+Orange-tree promised to chaperon the Misses Heath and the Misses
+Geranium--that is, such as were properly accomplished by having had a
+greenhouse education; but the poor relations of these two families,
+which I am forced to confess were many, were not asked. Lord
+Heliotropium and Mr. Monkeyplant were their welcome attendants.
+
+The Evergreens of rank were invited, the females of whom are charged
+with being fond of showing themselves, and are usually to be seen in the
+front of plantations. Hitherto they had despised the fickleness of
+fashion, and had never modernized their dress enough to seem thinly clad
+even in the winter, and now they could not reconcile themselves to such
+a change, which, in fact, did them honour, though a few of the weakest
+and vainest among them rather lamented it, but the wiser valued their
+foliage as a great addition to beauty and elegance, and justly
+reprobated the prevailing _Ton_ of transparent clothing as very
+pernicious to health. Mrs. Arbutus was particularly unlucky in having
+sent all her jewels away for the summer, but Lady Portugal Laurel and a
+few others ornamented their usual green dresses very prettily with
+white, and her ladyship was allowed to make a sweet figure, whilst the
+correctness of her appearance gained her respect and admiration.
+
+Many Laurels were invited, but in this country they are so numerous, and
+of such rapid growth, and such flourishing plants, that it was
+absolutely impossible to collect as many of them as could be desired,
+and some old veterans declined attending. The Cypresses in general sent
+excuses, being confined by the loss of a friend, which was thought
+rather an uncommon reason for confinement. Mr. Stock was also prevented
+by a pre-engagement in the alley; he was a remarkably rich, showy
+flower, or he would not have been invited, yet he was known to possess
+more intrinsic merit before he had acquired so many petals. Dr. Yew
+would not leave his church, nor Dr. Palma Christi his patients; indeed,
+their absence was not at all regretted, it being owing to a mistake that
+they were asked. The Ladies Weeping Willow stayed away with the Misses
+Weeping Ash to mourn over the vanities of the world, which greatly
+alarmed and distressed them.
+
+Mrs. Passion-Flower sent her excuses, being enraged she was not
+consulted on the occasion, as she would have deferred the meeting until
+she had regained her bloom. Most of the Shrubs that were invited
+attended, and the Duchess of Syringa and the Ladies Lilac looked
+beautiful. It was a disputed point whether Lady White Lilac or her
+sister was the handsomer, yet some of the party were so ill-humoured as
+to hint they were fading. Lord Laburnum came with them. Some bulbous
+roots were admitted, and Mrs. Lily made as engaging a figure as anyone;
+her headdress was simply elegant, the petals white with yellow stamens
+forming a very rich coral. The sweet Misses Lily of the Valley could not
+be tempted from their retreat.
+
+Lord Tulip was particularly noticed, his coral being diversified in a
+most superb manner, and as dress among _Ton beaux_ now is neglected he
+made a very surprising appearance, though by it he gained great respect;
+perhaps he carried it too far, as marked singularity is never advisable,
+yet a certain attention to dress, consistent with station, is requisite,
+and had it not been for his coral Lord Tulip would have been passed by
+in the crowd, or turned out as a weed. He came with the Duchess of
+Hyacinth, which was rather particular, but it was little regarded, and
+the Duke was blamed for not properly estimating her Grace's charms.
+
+There were some perennials asked, but Mrs. Rose was obliged to forget
+many of them, yet Miss Scabious was there, though not yet come out,
+flirting shamefully with young Lychnis, who was waiting for his ensigncy
+to get out his scarlet coat. Mrs. Rose made a point of inviting Mr.
+Monkshood because she would not appear to have any prejudices, though it
+is well known to be a poisonous plant, but its evil properties were to
+her and her friends of no consequence as they had never reflected on
+serious subjects. She also pressed the attendance of several annuals of
+showy appearance. Intrinsic merit had no value with her, who had no
+guide but fashion, and was ambitious only of becoming a leader in
+dissipation or a patroness of talent, which would be the means of making
+her ridiculous, and the dupe of presuming ignorance.
+
+The annuals, though they flourished but for a short time, were often
+during that period greatly caressed, yet never lamented when they
+disappeared; in short, they were made subservient to the powers of
+others, which Mr. Coxcomb, the painted Lady Pea, and some more were too
+vain to discover, and whilst they were frequently amused in quizzing all
+around never suspected they were deservedly greater objects of ridicule
+themselves. Very few of the Creepers were invited except those that
+belonged to the hothouse or greenhouse, and the sharpness of Lady Cereus
+made Mrs. Rose wish even to have avoided her company, but she would not
+be put off. Mrs. Bramble was very sharp at not being invited, thinking
+she had as good a right as Mrs. Ivy, whom she accused as being one of
+those sycophants that push themselves into high life by clinging to
+greatness, and thus getting into the first circle without being
+respected in or out of it; indeed, there was amongst many of the party a
+good deal of satire. Mrs. Rose herself was a little formed of it, but
+her sweetness was allowed to blunt the force of her thorn, and made it
+even regarded as pleasing, whilst Mrs. Holly was disliked for her
+general sharpness.
+
+[Illustration: _The sweet Misses Lilies of the Valley could not be
+tempted from their retreat.--Page 119._]
+
+All the Auriculas that had been applauded on the stage were wonderfully
+sought after by Mrs. Rose as being now generally in all _Ton_
+assemblies, and they were always ready to accept these invitations, but
+their season of exhibition was now over, and they were gone strolling
+about for the remainder of the year. The Ladies Carnation were all
+asked, and some of their cousins, the Misses Pink, were particularly
+named (not having accommodations for all the family), and such of the
+Misses Pink as came were chaperoned by their near relations, Mr. and
+Mrs. Sweet-William; but the Ladies Carnation were obliged to
+refuse--they were afraid they should not be come out in time, and if
+they were must attend a county meeting with their guardian.
+
+There were no invitations sent into the kitchen garden or orchard,
+notwithstanding the elegant simplicity of many of the inhabitants, and
+the general propriety of their conduct, but they were all voted quizzes
+for their usefulness in society and their attention to domestic
+concerns. They were vain of this neglect, regarding it as a proof of
+their merit, and as they lived comfortably together were happy and
+contented, and far more easy and cheerful than the more dissipated
+societies. Mrs. Onion, it must be allowed, took it as a slight, but she
+was the only one that did, and she, presuming upon the having been much
+at great dinners, imagined she must be qualified for any breakfast, not
+considering she generally was obliged to go to them disguised or hid by
+a veil, but she was a proof of the errors of self knowledge, as she
+thought her scent far preferable to Mrs. Rose's.
+
+The rest of the kitchen garden really wished to avoid mixing with the
+_Ton_, among whom they justly allowed were many very valuable plants;
+every class and order in this country may boast of them. The natural
+soil is good, and much pains is bestowed on proper culture, yet in the
+circles of dissipation there was reason to fear their health and good
+habits might be injured, particularly as attempts had been made to
+disseminate baneful seeds, though hitherto they had been kept down by
+care and attention. Mrs. Apple-Tree, Mr. Cherry, Miss Currant, Miss
+Gooseberry, the Beans, Peas, Potatoes, and Cabbages well knew their own
+value, and despised the weak ambition of those who force themselves into
+company they were not designed for.
+
+Mrs. Rose would have liked to have got at the Mint, but it was so well
+guarded by the Sages that she dared not make the attempt, knowing it
+would be useless, and she could not presume to ask the Sages, or would
+have been delighted to have had them--that is, all the family but Common
+Sage, well imagining how much consequence she might acquire by even the
+appearance of such an acquaintance, yet it was an absurd idea, as she
+had not the smallest relish for their taste or anything Sage-like about
+her, and the wish to be thought to possess talents she did not would, as
+it always does, have made her contemptible to those who really have
+them. True knowledge is highly valuable and respectable, but the
+ignorant pretenders to it only make themselves objects of ridicule. Mrs.
+Rose was fortunate enough to get some of the Bays brought to her, and
+she thus trusted to have her breakfast properly celebrated in a poem
+dedicated to the Rose Unique.
+
+The bog plants had all contrived to be in the _Ton_, and the Misses
+Rhododendron and the Misses Kalmia were greatly admired.
+
+The breakfast was given on a beautiful green lawn, tastefully decorated,
+in the middle of which was a fine piece of water, with a fountain
+continually playing. Around were heaps of various sorts of soils, many
+procured at great distances at an enormous expense. The Buttercups and
+Dandelions waited on the lawn in full yellow liveries, and the Daisies,
+dressed neatly in a uniform of white with yellow ornaments, were as
+female servants to give the refreshments to the waiters, and the
+Foxgloves in red uniforms presided over the whole. The Trumpet Flowers
+were numerous; indeed, there was no other music, and there was no
+regular dancing, though many pretty groups dispersed about.
+
+The crowd was very great, and the company did not leave the lawn till
+late, many of them exceedingly fatigued, and drooping with their
+exertions, and poor Mrs. Poppy was so much inclined to sleep as to
+distress the Misses Larkspur and Lupin that came with her, and Sir
+Laurus Tinus got much squeezed in getting the Marchioness Magnolia, a
+most charming creature, and the Miss Phillyreas away, and Lady Cistus
+left all her petals behind her.
+
+Admiral Flag and Lady Peony were detained much longer than they wished
+in settling a dispute that had nearly ended in a challenge between
+Captain Waterdock and Colonel Jasmine about the antiquities of their
+families, which had so seriously terrified Lady Azorian Jasmine that she
+would have fainted but for the tender attention of Mrs. Lavender. The
+Colonel was certainly wrong, as the Water-docks are well known to be a
+very ancient family in Great Britain. It is much to be regretted that
+there is so often such a mistaken idea of courage even amongst the most
+respectable orders, abounding with the truest honour, and noblest
+spirit, as to cause duels on the most trifling subjects, thus involving
+their families in distress and themselves in the greatest misery.
+
+There was waiting on the outside of the lawn at Mrs. Rose's many of the
+Umbellate tribe, that in case sun or rain should be too powerful their
+Umbels might be useful, and, indeed, many other plants were mixed among
+them. Mrs. Mignonette, the milliner, a sweet little creature, was there
+to learn fashions; she had brought with her one of her favourites,
+Venus's Looking-glass, whom she found of great service in her shop. The
+Nettles, Thistles, and Furze were very troublesome. The Thrifts were
+also on the outside, as Mrs. Rose and they were totally unacquainted,
+but she had given great offence to many whom she had neglected that she
+very well knew, some even intimately, and the Misses Crocus, Violet,
+Jonquil, and Mrs. Almond she did not ask, because their beauty was gone
+by. She had also her disappointments in receiving excuses from many
+whose presence she wished for. Amongst these was Mr. and Mrs.
+Heartsease, most valuable plants; indeed, she had thought herself sure
+of their company, and they had intended waiting on her. At all
+entertainments of every kind they are expected, and they generally
+accept the invitations they receive, but before the day of engagement
+arrives they are obliged to send their excuses, owing to indisposition,
+which keeps them confined to a small circle of friends.
+
+Some of the party at Mrs. Rose's were delighted; others only aimed to be
+thought pleased, but alas! too many were inclined to quiz the breakfast,
+Mrs. Rose, and everything they saw or met with, yet even these to her
+pretended the greatest felicity at what they partook of, and the
+sincerest regard and esteem for her, and were absurdly lavish in the
+admiration of her taste, and after all poor Mrs. Rose was so fatigued
+that she was attended for a considerable time by Doctor Gardener, and
+could associate with no other plant but her maid Valerian, having so
+completely lost her bloom by her dissipation that she came out no more
+this season, though she had sufficient foliage to ensure her life, and
+much more than suited her ideas of Tonish appearance, for,
+notwithstanding the slights she received in her confinement, when she
+could be of no use to the gay world, and her own sufferings, she still
+possessed so much vanity and lightness of manner that it was with the
+greatest difficulty the doctor could keep her properly clothed, though
+he explained to her its necessity, as did Mr. Pluto Rose its propriety,
+but she was a slave to fashion, and nearly became one of its martyrs.
+
+
+
+
+The Three Cakes
+
+
+'There was a little boy named Henry,' said Mr. Glassington, 'about your
+age. His parents had but lately fixed him at a boarding-school.'
+
+He was a special boy, for ever at his book, and happened once to get the
+highest place at exercises. His mother was told it. She could nohow keep
+from dreaming of the pleasure; and when morning came, she got up early,
+went to speak with the cook and said as follows:
+
+'Cook, you are to make a cake for Henry, who yesterday was very good at
+school.'
+
+'With all my heart,' replied the cook, and set immediately about it. It
+was as big as--let me see--as big as--as a hat when flapped. The cook
+had stuffed it with nice almonds, large pistachio nuts, and candied
+lemon-peel, and iced it over with a coat of sugar, so that it was very
+smooth and a perfect white. The cake no sooner was come home from baking
+than the cook put on her things, and carried it to school.
+
+When Henry first saw it, he jumped up and down like any Merry Andrew. He
+was not so patient as to wait till they could let him have a knife, but
+fell upon it tooth and nail. He ate and ate till school began, and after
+school was over he ate again; at night, too, it was the same thing till
+bedtime--nay, a little fellow that Henry had for a playmate told me that
+he put the cake upon his bolster when he went to bed, and waked and
+waked a dozen times, that he might take a bit. I cannot so easily
+believe this last particular; but, then, it is very true, at least, that
+on the morrow, when the day was hardly broke, he set about his favourite
+business once again, continuing at it all the morning, and by noon had
+eaten it up. The dinner-bell now rung; but Henry, as one may fancy, had
+no stomach, and was vexed to see how heartily the other children ate. It
+was, however, worse than this at five o'clock, when school was over.
+
+His companions asked him if he would not play at cricket, tan, or kits.
+Alas! he could not; so they played without him. In the meantime Henry
+could hardly stand upon his legs; he went and sat down in a corner very
+gloomily, while the children said one to another: 'What is the matter
+with poor Henry, who used to skip about and be so merry? See how pale
+and sorrowful he is!'
+
+The master came himself, and, seeing him, was quite alarmed. It was all
+lost labour to interrogate him. Henry could not be brought to speak a
+single word.
+
+By great good luck, a boy at length came forward in the secret; and his
+information was that Henry's mother had sent him a great cake the day
+before, which he had swallowed in an instant, as it were, and that his
+present sickness was occasioned only by his gluttony. On this, the
+master sent for an apothecary, who ordered him a quantity of physic,
+phial after phial. Henry, as one would fancy, found it very nauseous,
+but was forced to take the whole for fear of dying, which, had he
+omitted it, would certainly have been the case. When some few days of
+physic and strict regimen had passed, his health was re-established as
+before; but his mother protested that she would never let him have
+another cake.
+
+_Percival._ He did not merit so much as the smell of such a thing. But
+this is but one cake, father; and you informed me that there were three,
+if you remember, in your story.
+
+_Mr. G._ Patience! patience! Here is another cake in what I am now going
+to tell.
+
+Henry's master had another scholar, whose name was Francis. He had
+written his mother a very pretty letter, and it had not so much as a
+blotted stroke; in recompense for which she sent him likewise a great
+cake, and Francis thus addressed himself: 'I will not, like that glutton
+Henry, eat up my cake at once, and so be sick as he was; no, I will make
+my pleasure last a great deal longer.' So he took the cake, which he
+could hardly lift by reason of its weight, and watched the opportunity
+of slipping up into his chamber with it, where his box was, and in which
+he put it under lock and key. At playtime every day he slipped away from
+his companions, went upstairs a-tiptoe, cut a tolerable slice off,
+swallowed it, put by the rest, and then came down and mixed again with
+his companions. He continued this clandestine business all the week, and
+even then the cake was hardly half consumed. But what ensued? At last
+the cake grew dry, and quickly after mouldy; nay, the very maggots got
+into it, and by that means had their share; on which account it was not
+then worth eating, and our young curmudgeon was compelled to fling the
+rest away with great reluctance. However, no one grieved for him.
+
+_Percival._ No, indeed; nor I, father. What, keep a cake locked up
+seven days together, and not give one's friends a bit! That is
+monstrous! But let us have the other now.
+
+_Mr. G._ There was another little gentleman who went to school with
+Henry and Francis likewise, and his name was Gratian. His mother sent
+him a cake one day, because she loved him, and, indeed, he loved her
+also very much. It was no sooner come than Gratian thus addressed his
+young companions: 'Come and look at what mother has sent me; you must
+every one eat with me.' They scarcely needed such a welcome piece of
+information twice, but all got round the cake, as you have doubtless
+seen the bees resorting to a flower just blown. As Gratian was provided
+with a knife, he cut a great piece off, and then divided it into as many
+shares as he had brought boys together by such a courteous invitation.
+Gratian then took up the rest, and told them that he would eat his piece
+next day; on which he put it up, and went to play with his companions,
+who were all solicitous to have him choose whatever game he thought
+might entertain him most.
+
+A quarter of an hour had scarcely passed as they were playing, when a
+poor old man, who had a fiddle, came into the yard.
+
+He had a very long white beard, and, being blind, was guided by a little
+dog, who went before him with a collar round his neck. To this a cord
+was fastened, which the poor blind man held in his hand.
+
+It was noticed with how much dexterity the little dog conducted him, and
+how he shook a bell, which, I forgot to say, hung underneath his collar,
+when he came near anyone, as if he had designed to say by such an
+action, 'Do not throw down or run against my master.' Being come into
+the yard, he sat him down upon a stone, and, hearing several children
+talking round him, 'My dear little gentlemen,' said he, 'I will play you
+all the pretty tunes that I know, if you will give me leave.' The
+children wished for nothing half so much. He put his violin in tune, and
+then thrummed over several jigs and other scraps of music, which, it was
+easy to conjecture, had been new in former times.
+
+Little Gratian saw that while he played his merriest airs, a tear would
+now and then roll down his cheeks, on which he stopped to ask him why he
+wept?
+
+'Because,' said the musician, 'I am very hungry. I have no one in the
+world that will give my dog or me a bit of anything to eat. I wish I
+could but work, and get for both of us a morsel of something; but I have
+lost my strength and sight. Alas! I laboured hard till I was old, and
+now I want bread.'
+
+The generous Gratian, hearing this, wept too. He did not say a word, but
+ran to fetch the cake which he had designed to eat himself. He brought
+it out with joy, and, as he ran along, began: 'Here, good old man, here
+is some cake for you.'
+
+'Where?' replied the poor musician, feeling with his hands; 'where is
+it? For I am blind, and cannot see you.'
+
+Gratian put the cake into his hand, when, laying down his fiddle on the
+ground, he wiped his eyes, and then began to eat. At every piece he put
+into his mouth, he gave his faithful little dog a bit, who came and ate
+out of his hand; and Gratian, standing by him, smiled with pleasure at
+the thought of having fed the poor old man when he was hungry.
+
+_Percival._ Oh, the good, good Gratian! Let me have your knife, father.
+
+_Mr. G._ Here, Percival; but why my knife?
+
+[Illustration: _'I will play you all the pretty tunes that I know, if
+you will give me leave.'--Page 132._]
+
+_Percival._ I will tell you. I have only nibbled here a little of my
+cake, so pleased I was in listening to you! So I will cut it smooth.
+There, see how well I have ordered it! These scraps, together with the
+currants, will be more than I shall want for breakfast; and the first
+poor man that I meet going home shall have the rest, even though he
+should not play upon the violin.
+
+
+
+
+Amendment
+
+
+Charles Grant lived in a good house, and wore fine clothes, and had a
+great many pretty toys to play with; yet Charles was seldom happy or
+pleased; for he was never good. He did not mind what his mother said to
+him, and would not learn to read, though he was now seven years old.
+
+He called the servants names, pinched and beat his little sister Clara,
+and took away her playthings, and was not kind and good to her, as a
+brother should be. 'Oh, what a sad boy Charles is!' was his mother's
+daily bitter exclamation.
+
+His father was a proud, bad man, who let Charles have his own way,
+because he was his only son, and he thought him handsome. But how could
+anyone be handsome that was so naughty? I am sure that when he was
+froward, and put out his lip, and frowned, he looked quite ugly. Mother
+told him so, and said that no one was pretty that was not good; but
+Charles did not mind his mother, and was so vain he would stand before
+the looking-glass half the day, instead of learning his lessons; and was
+so silly he would say, 'What a pretty little boy I am! I am glad I am
+not a shabby boy, like Giles Bloomfield, our cowboy.' At such times his
+mother would say to him: 'I wish, Charles, you were only half as good as
+Giles; he is not much older than you, yet he can read in the Bible quite
+well; he works hard for his poor mother, and never vexes her, as you do
+me; and when he comes home of an evening, he nurses the baby, and is
+kind to all his sisters. I dare say he never pinched nor beat any of
+them in his life.'
+
+'Oh!' said that wicked Charles, 'I hate him for all that, for he wears
+ragged clothes, and has no toys to play with.'
+
+'Oh fie, Charles!' said his mother; 'you are a wicked boy: have not I
+often told you that God made the poor as well as the rich, and He will
+hate those who despise them? Now, Charles, if God, to punish you for
+your pride, were to take away your father and me, and you had no money
+to buy food, and your clothes became old and ragged, you would then be a
+poor, shabby boy, and worse off than Giles; for you could not earn your
+own living, as he does; and you would consequently be starved to death
+if God did not take care of you. And if, while you were rich, you hated
+the poor, how could you expect God to care for you when you grew poor,
+like those you had scorned?'
+
+But Charles, however, was so naughty he would not stay to hear what his
+mother said, but ran away into the fields.
+
+Then Charles's mother was so vexed that she could not help crying at his
+being such a wicked, proud boy; and she could not sleep all that night
+for the grief his conduct had occasioned her. The next day she was
+forced to take a long journey, to visit a friend who was very ill, and
+who lived in London. She was very sorry to leave her children, for she
+knew if Charles behaved naughty when she was with him, he would be a sad
+boy indeed when he was left to himself, and had none to correct him and
+tell him of his faults.
+
+When the carriage that was to take Mrs. Grant to London drove to the
+door, she kissed her children a great many times, and begged that they
+would be very good while she was away from them.
+
+'You, my dear Clara, I know, will mind what nurse says to you, and will
+try to be good while I am gone; for you know that God will see
+everything you do amiss, if I do not; and I hope you will never forget
+to say your prayers to Him night and morning.'
+
+Clara kissed her dear mother, and promised that she would attend to all
+she said; and her mother was satisfied, for she knew that Clara never
+told stories, though she was but a little girl.
+
+Then Mrs. Grant turned to Charles, and said: 'As for you, Charles, I
+cannot help feeling great pain at leaving you; for you are such a bad,
+wilful boy that I shall not have a happy moment whilst I am away from
+you, lest you should do anything amiss. But if you love me, you will try
+to be good; and whenever you are about to do anything wrong, say to
+yourself, "How much this would grieve my poor mother if she knew it! and
+how much it will offend God, who does see, and knows, not only
+everything I do, but even my most secret thoughts! And He will one day
+bring me to an account for all I do or say against His holy will and my
+kind parents' commands."'
+
+Charles, who knew he was a bad boy, hung down his head, for he did not
+like to be told of his faults.
+
+Then his mother said: 'My dear Charles, do try and be good, and I will
+love you dearly.'
+
+'But what will you bring me from London,' said Charles, 'if I am a good
+boy? for I never will behave well for nothing.'
+
+'Do you call the love of God and of dear mother nothing?' said Clara; 'I
+will behave well, even if mother forgets to bring me the great wax doll,
+and the chest of drawers to keep her clothes in, which she told me about
+yesterday.'
+
+Mrs. Grant smiled fondly on her little girl, but made no reply to
+Charles; and soon the coach drove away from the door.
+
+Charles was very glad when his mother was gone, and he said: 'Now mother
+is gone to London, I will do just as I please: I will learn no ugly
+lessons, but play all day long. How happy I shall be! I hope mother may
+not come for a whole month.'
+
+But Charles soon found he was not so happy as he thought he should have
+been; he did not know the reason, but I will tell you why he was not
+happy. No one can be happy who is not good, and Charles was so naughty
+as to resolve not to obey his kind mother, who loved him so much.
+
+Charles brought out all his toys to play with, but he soon grew weary of
+them, and he kicked them under the table, saying, 'Nasty dull toys, I
+hate you, for you do not amuse me or make me happy. I will go to father,
+and ask him to give me something to please me that I am not used to.'
+
+But father was busy with some friends in the study, and could not attend
+to his wants. Charles was a rude, tiresome boy; so he stood by his
+father, and shook his chair, and pulled his sleeve, and teazed him so
+much that his father at last grew angry, and turned him out of the room.
+
+Then Charles stood and kicked at the door, and screamed with all his
+might, when one of the gentlemen said to him: 'If you were my little
+boy, I would give you something to cry for.' So Charles's father told
+him if he did not go away, he would come out of the study and whip him.
+
+When Charles heard this, he ran away, for he was afraid of being beaten;
+but, instead of playing quietly with his toys, he went and laid under
+the great table in the hall and sulked and fretted till dinner-time.
+
+When nurse came to call him to dinner, he said: 'I won't come. Go away,
+ugly nurse!'
+
+Then said nurse: 'Master Charles, if you like to punish yourself by
+going without your dinner, no one will prevent you, I am sure.'
+
+Then Charles began to cry aloud, and tried to tear nurse's apron; but
+nurse told him he was a bad boy, and left him.
+
+Now, when Clara sat down to dinner, she said to nurse: 'Where is brother
+Charles? Why is he not here?'
+
+'Miss Clara, he is a naughty child,' said nurse, 'and chooses to go
+without his dinner, thinking to vex us; but he hurts no one but himself
+with his perverse temper.'
+
+'Then,' said Clara, 'I do not like to dine while Charles goes without;
+so I will try and persuade him to come and eat some pie.'
+
+'Well, Miss Clara,' said nurse, 'you may go, if you please; but I would
+leave the bad boy to himself.'
+
+When Clara came to Charles, and asked him if he would come and eat his
+dinner, he poked out his head, and made such an ugly face that she was
+quite frightened at him, and ran away.
+
+Nurse did not take the trouble of calling him to tea; and, though he was
+very hungry, he was too sulky to come without being asked; so he lay
+under the table, and cried aloud till bedtime. But when it grew dark, he
+was afraid to stay by himself, for bad children are always fearful; so
+he came upstairs and said in a cross, rude tone of voice: 'Nurse, give
+me something to eat.'
+
+Nurse said: 'Master Charles, if you had been good, you would have had
+some chicken and some apple-pie for your dinner, and bread and butter
+and cake for your tea; but as you were such a bad boy, and would not
+come to your meals, I shall only give you a piece of dry bread and a cup
+of milk, and you do not deserve even that.'
+
+Then Charles made one of his very worst faces, and threw the bread on
+the ground, and spilt the milk.
+
+Nurse told him that there were many poor children in the world who would
+be glad of the smallest morsel of what he so much despised, and that the
+time would come when he might want the very worst bit of it; and she
+bade him kneel down and say his prayers, and ask God to forgive him for
+having been such a wicked boy all day.
+
+But Charles did not mind what she said, and went crying to bed. Thus
+ended the first day of Charles Grant's happiness.
+
+He awoke very early the next morning, and told nurse to get him his
+breakfast, for he was very hungry. But nurse said he must wait till
+eight o'clock, which was the breakfast hour.
+
+He now found it was of no use sulking, as no one seemed to care for his
+tempers; so he looked about for something to eat, but found nothing but
+the piece of bread he had thrown on the ground the night before; and he
+was glad to eat that, and only wished there had been more of it.
+
+As soon as breakfast was over, Clara brought her books, and began to
+learn her lessons, and nurse asked Charles if he would do the same. But
+Charles said, 'No, indeed! I do not mean to learn any lessons while
+mother is away, for I mean to please myself and be happy.'
+
+'You did as you pleased yesterday, Master Charles,' said nurse; 'yet I
+do not think you were so very happy, unless happiness consists in lying
+under a table and crying all day, and going without dinner and tea,
+merely to indulge a sullen, froward temper.'
+
+Now, Charles hated to be told of his faults, so he left nurse, and went
+into the garden to try and amuse himself. When there, instead of keeping
+in the walks, as he ought to have done, he ran on the beds, trampled
+down the flowers, and pulled the blossoms from the fruit-trees.
+
+The gardener's boy earnestly requested Charles not to do so much
+mischief; but Charles told him he was a gentleman's son, and would do as
+he pleased. So he again ran over the new-raked borders, and pulled up
+the flowers; and the poor boy was sadly vexed to see his nice work all
+spoiled.
+
+Charles did not care for that, and would have behaved still worse, had
+not the gardener, who then came up, taken him in his arms, and carried
+him into the house, in spite of his kicking and screaming. He cried for
+a long time, and made a sad noise; but, finding that no one paid any
+regard to him, he became quiet, and went into the nursery, and asked
+Clara to come and play with him.
+
+'I cannot come just now, brother Charles,' said she; 'for I want to
+finish this frock that I am making for Giles Bloomfield's little
+sister.'
+
+'I am sure,' said Charles, 'if I were you, I would much rather play than
+sit still and sew.'
+
+'Not if you knew what pleasure there is in doing good,' said Clara; 'but
+if you will wait till I have finished it, you shall go with me and give
+it to the poor woman, and then you will see how pleased she will be, and
+how nicely the baby will look when she is dressed in this pretty frock,
+instead of her old faded, ragged one.'
+
+[Illustration: _Had not the gardener, who then came up, taken him in his
+arms, and carried him into the house, in spite of his kicking and
+screaming.--Page 142._]
+
+Charles did not know how to amuse himself, so he sat down on his little
+stool, and watched his sister while she worked.
+
+When Clara had finished making the frock, she said: 'Thank you, dear
+nurse, for cutting out and fixing the frock for me.' So she threw her
+arms round nurse's neck, and kissed her cheek; and nurse put on Clara's
+tippet and her new bonnet, and walked with Charles and her to Dame
+Bloomfield's cottage.
+
+The good woman took the baby out of the cradle, and laid it on Clara's
+lap, and Clara had the pleasure of dressing it herself in the nice new
+frock; and the baby looked so neat and pretty, and the poor mother was
+so pleased, that Clara was much happier than if she had spent her time
+in playing or working for her doll.
+
+While Clara was nursing and caressing the baby, Charles went into the
+little garden, where he found Giles Bloomfield, who had just returned
+from working in the fields, with a beautiful milk-white rabbit in his
+arms, which he had taken out of the hutch, and was nursing with much
+affection.
+
+'Oh, what a pretty rabbit!' said Charles. 'Giles, will you sell it to
+me?'
+
+'No, Master Charles,' said Giles, 'I cannot sell my pretty Snowball.'
+
+'And why not?' asked Charles in a fretful tone.
+
+'Because, Master Charles, the old doe, its mother, died when Snowball
+was only a week old, and I reared it by feeding it with warm milk and
+bran; and it is now so fond of me that I would not part with it for a
+great deal.'
+
+So saying, he stroked his pretty favourite, who licked his hand all
+over, and rubbed her soft white head against his fingers.
+
+Then Giles said: 'My dear Snowball, I would not sell you for the world.'
+
+'But you shall sell Snowball to me,' said Charles, making one of his
+ugly faces. 'I will give you a shilling for her; and if you do not let
+me carry her home this very day, I will tell father of you, and he will
+turn you out of the cottage.'
+
+When Giles's mother heard Charles say so, she came out of the house, and
+said: 'Pray, Giles, let Master Charles have the rabbit.'
+
+'Dear mother,' said Giles, 'Master Charles has a pony and a dog, and a
+great many fine toys to play with, and I have only my pretty Snowball;
+and it will break my heart to part with her.'
+
+'Then,' said his mother, 'would you rather see your mother and sisters
+turned out of doors than part with your rabbit? You know, Giles, that I
+had so many expenses with your poor father's illness and death that I
+have not paid the rent due last quarter-day; and you know it is in our
+landlord's power to turn us into the streets to-morrow.
+
+'Well, mother,' cried Giles, bursting into tears, 'Master Charles must
+have the rabbit. But oh!' continued he, 'he does not love you as I do,
+my pretty Snowball; he will not feed and take care of you as I have
+done, and you will soon die, and I shall never see you again.' And his
+tears fell fast on the white head of his little pet as he spoke.
+
+Clara was quite grieved, and begged her naughty brother not to deprive
+poor Giles of his rabbit; but Charles was a wicked and covetous boy; he
+therefore took Snowball from Giles, and carried her home in his arms,
+and put her in a box. He went into the fields and gathered some green
+herbs for her to eat, and said: 'I am glad I have got Snowball; now I
+shall be quite happy.'
+
+But how could Charles be happy when he had broken God's holy
+commandment, which says, 'Thou shalt not covet'? Nurse and Clara told
+him so, and begged him to give Snowball back again to Giles. But Charles
+said he would not, for he meant to keep her all his life; but the next
+morning, when he went into the stable to look at her, he found her
+stretched at the bottom of the box. He called her, but Snowball did not
+stir; he then took her out of the box to see what ailed her; but she was
+quite cold and dead.
+
+Oh dear! how Charles did cry! But it was of no use. He had better not
+have taken her away from Giles, for he did not know what to feed her
+with, and had given her among the greens he had gathered a herb called
+hemlock, which is poisonous and will kill whatever eats of it; and it
+had killed poor Snowball.
+
+The coachman told Charles so when he saw how swollen she was, and
+Charles cried the more. Giles cried too when he heard what a sad death
+poor Snowball had died; but he had been a good dutiful boy in parting
+with her when his mother wished it, though it had cost him much pain and
+many tears.
+
+Well, Charles's mother was gone a long time, more than a month, and it
+would quite shock you to be told how naughty Charles was all that time;
+at last a letter came to say she was very ill, and then another to tell
+them she was dead.
+
+What would Charles then have given if he had not grieved her so often
+with his perverse temper and wicked conduct? He now said when he saw her
+again, he would beg her to forgive him; but when Charles did see his
+poor mother again she was in her coffin and could not hear him; and he
+cried exceedingly, and wished he had been good. Clara, though she cried
+as much as Charles for her dear mother, was glad she had obeyed her, and
+been so good while she was away.
+
+'And I will always be as good as if dear mother could see me, and love
+me for it too,' said she to nurse the day after her mother was buried.
+
+'My dear young lady,' said nurse, 'your mother _will_ see it, and love
+you for doing your duty.'
+
+'How can dear mother see me? Her eyes are closed, and she is in the dark
+grave,' said Clara.
+
+'But she will see you from heaven, Miss Clara, where she is gone to
+receive the reward of her good conduct in this world; for though her
+body is in the earth, her spirit is in heaven.'
+
+'And shall I never see my own dear mother again?' said Clara.
+
+'Yes, Miss Clara; if you are good, you will go to heaven when you die,
+and become an angel like her.'
+
+'Then,' said Clara, 'I will pray to God to make me good, and when I am
+going to do anything wrong I will say to myself, "If I do this, I shall
+never go to heaven, and see my dear mother when I die."'
+
+'I wish,' said nurse, 'that Master Charles was like you, and would try
+to be good.'
+
+But though Charles was sometimes sorry for his bad behaviour, he did not
+try to mend, because he thought it was too much trouble to be good, and
+said he did not care, because he was the son of a gentleman.
+
+Charles did not know that at this very time his father had spent all his
+money, and owed a great many debts to different people; and at last he
+ran away that he might not be put in prison; and the people to whom he
+owed so much money came and seized his fine house and gardens, and the
+coach, and all the furniture, and sold them by auction, to raise money
+to pay the debts; so Charles found that, instead of being rich, he was
+now very, very poor.
+
+When the auction was over and all the things were sold, and it was
+getting quite dark (for it was in the month of November), Clara and
+Charles stood in one of the empty parlours, and wondered what they
+should do for supper, and where they should sleep that night; for all
+the beds were sold, and they saw the servants go away one after another.
+
+At last nurse came in with her bonnet and cloak, and said: 'Miss Clara,
+I am going away to my own cottage, and as you have always been a kind,
+good child, you shall go with me, and I will take care of you.'
+
+Then Clara said, 'Thank you; but will you not take Charles also?'
+
+'No,' said nurse; 'he has always been such a proud, bad boy that I will
+not take him. I have very little to spare, for I am a poor woman, and
+what I have is not more than will keep my own children and you, Miss
+Clara.'
+
+Saying this, she got into the cart, and took Clara on her lap, and one
+of the footmen got in after her, and drove away from the door.
+
+Charles stood on the step of the door, and looked after them till they
+were out of sight; and then he began to cry as if his heart would break.
+The servant of the gentleman who had purchased the house came and locked
+the door, so Charles could not get in any more, and he sat down on the
+stone steps, and covered his face with his hands, and cried bitterly.
+
+'Unhappy child that I am,' sobbed he; 'what will become of me? Oh, if I
+had but been good like Clara, I should have found a friend, as she has;
+but no one cares what becomes of me, because I have been so wicked. I
+used to despise the poor, and God, to punish me, has made me poor
+indeed.'
+
+It was very cold, and the snow began to fall fast, and it grew quite
+dark. Charles rested his head on his knees, and was afraid to look
+round; his clothes were almost wet through, and his limbs were benumbed
+with cold; he had no place where he could ask shelter, for no one loved
+him; and he thought he should be obliged to stay there all night, and
+perhaps be frozen to death.
+
+Just then someone softly touched his hand, and said: 'Master Charles, I
+have been looking for you for more than an hour.'
+
+Charles looked up; but when he saw it was Giles Bloomfield who had come
+to seek him in his distress, he remembered how ill he had behaved to
+him, so he hid his face, and began to weep afresh.
+
+Then Giles sat down by him on the steps, and said: 'Dear Master Charles,
+you must not stay here. See how fast it snows. You will catch your death
+of cold.'
+
+'Yes, I am very cold and hungry,' sobbed Charles, 'but I have no home
+now; I have nowhere else to go, and must stay here all night.'
+
+'No, Master Charles,' said Giles, 'you shall come home with me, and
+shall share my supper and my bed, though it is not such as you have been
+used to; notwithstanding we are very poor, we will do our best to make
+you comfortable.'
+
+'Oh, Giles!' said Charles, throwing his arms round Giles's neck, 'I do
+not deserve this kindness; I have been such a proud, wicked boy, and
+have treated you so ill. I am sure you can never forgive me for having
+taken your pretty Snowball; and if _you_ forgive me, I can never
+forgive myself.'
+
+'Dear Master Charles, do not think of that now,' said Giles, taking both
+Charles's cold hands in his. 'Indeed, Master Charles, I should never
+dare say my prayers if I was so wicked as to bear malice; and, now you
+are in distress, I would do anything in my power to serve you. So pray
+come home with me, and warm yourself, and get some supper.'
+
+But Charles hid his face on Giles's bosom, and cried the more; at last
+he said:
+
+'Giles, I am so ashamed of having behaved so cruelly to you, that I can
+never go to your home, and eat the food that you are obliged to labour
+so hard for.'
+
+'Master Charles,' said Giles, 'that is because you are so proud.'
+
+'Oh no, no!' sobbed Charles, 'I am not proud now, and I think I shall
+never be proud again.' So he kissed Giles, and they both went home to
+Dame Bloomfield's cottage together.
+
+When Giles's mother saw Charles, she said: 'Why did did you bring this
+proud, cross young gentleman here, Giles?'
+
+Charles, when he heard her say so, thought he should be turned out again
+into the cold, and began to cry afresh; but Giles said:
+
+'Dear mother, Master Charles has no home to go to now; he is cold and
+hungry; I am sure you will let him stay here, and share my bed and my
+supper.'
+
+'He can stay here if he likes,' said Dame Bloomfield; 'but you know,
+Giles, we are forced to work hard for what food we have, and I am sure
+we cannot afford to maintain Master Charles.'
+
+'Then,' said Giles, 'he shall have my supper to-night; he wants it more
+than I do, for he has had no food all day.'
+
+'You may please yourself about that, Giles; but remember, if you give
+your food to Master Charles, you must go without yourself.'
+
+'Well,' said Giles, 'I shall feel more pleasure in giving my supper to
+Master Charles than in eating it myself.'
+
+So he brought a stool, and, placing it in the warmest corner by the
+fire, made Charles sit down, and chafed his cold frozen hands, and tried
+to comfort him; for Charles was greatly afflicted when he saw that
+everyone hated him; but he knew that it was his own fault, and a just
+punishment for his pride and bad conduct.
+
+When Giles brought his basin of hot milk and bread for his supper, he
+could not thank him for crying; and he was ashamed to eat it while Giles
+went without; but he was so hungry, and the milk looked so nice, that he
+did not know how to refuse it; and Giles begged him so earnestly to eat
+that at last he did so, and once more felt warm and comfortable.
+
+Then Giles said to him: 'Now, Master Charles, will you go to bed? Mine
+is but a coarse, hard bed, but it is very clean.' So he took the lamp to
+show Charles the way to the chamber in which he was to sleep.
+
+Charles was surprised at seeing no staircase, but only a ladder. Giles
+laughed when he saw how Charles stared, and he said:
+
+'You have been used to live in a grand house, Master Charles, and know
+nothing of the shifts the poor are forced to make.'
+
+Then Charles climbed up the ladder, and Giles showed him a little room,
+not much larger than a closet, with no furniture in it, but a stump bed
+without any hangings, and covered with a coarse, woollen rug. Charles
+Grant had never even seen such a bed before, but he was thankful that
+he could get any place to sleep in, out of the cold and snow.
+
+Giles helped Charles to undress, for Charles was so helpless he did not
+know how to undress himself. When he was going to step into bed, Giles
+exclaimed:
+
+'Will you not say your prayers before you go to bed, Master Charles?'
+
+Charles blushed and hung down his head, for he had been so naughty that
+he had not said his prayers for a long time past, and had almost
+forgotten what his dear mother had taught him; and he told Giles so at
+last.
+
+'Dear, dear!' said Giles, 'I never dare go to bed without saying mine.'
+
+Then Charles said: 'I am sorry I have been so naughty as to forget my
+prayers; will you teach me yours, and I will never forget them again?'
+
+Then they both knelt down by the side of the little bed, and Giles
+taught Charles such prayers as he knew, and Charles went to bed much
+happier than he had been for a long time.
+
+Though the bed was hard, and the sheets brown and coarse, Charles was so
+weary that he soon fell asleep, and slept so soundly that he did not
+awake till it was broad day, and Giles was up and gone to work in the
+fields.
+
+When Charles looked round he thought he had never seen such a shabby
+room in his life. There was not so much as a chair or table or carpet in
+it; he could see all the thatch and the rafters in the roof, for the
+chamber was not even ceiled, but showed the thatch and rafters, and, as
+I said before, there was not a single article of furniture in the room,
+except the bed. How different from the pretty little chamber in which
+Charles used to sleep, with the nice white dimity window-curtains and
+hangings and mahogany tent-bed, with such comfortable bedding and
+handsome white counterpane! However, he now thought himself very
+fortunate that he had any roof to shelter him, or any bed, however
+homely it might be, on which he could sleep.
+
+He thought he should like to get up and go downstairs, but he had always
+been used to have a servant to dress him, and he did not know how to
+dress himself, so while he was considering what he should do Giles came
+into the chamber. He had returned to get his breakfast, and not seeing
+Charles downstairs he concluded the cause of his absence, and came to
+assist him to dress. Charles observed how this matter was arranged, and
+resolved to do it for himself the next morning.
+
+When he was dressed they both knelt down by the bedside and said their
+prayers, for though Giles had said his at the dawn of day, yet he never
+omitted an opportunity of repeating his thanksgivings and praises to his
+heavenly Father for the mercies and blessings which he enjoyed through
+His grace, for Giles possessed a grateful and contented heart, which
+made him look upon that state of life unto which it had pleased God to
+call him, as that which was meet and fit for him, so he worked hard, and
+ate the bread of labour with cheerfulness and satisfaction.
+
+When Charles and Giles joined the family below Dame Bloomfield set a
+porringer of milk and a piece of brown bread for everyone but Charles,
+who looked ready to cry, but Giles put his porringer before him, and
+gave him another spoon, and said: 'Master Charles, we will eat together,
+for there will be enough for both of us.' The tears came into Charles's
+eyes, and he whispered: 'Dear Giles, you are very good.' So these boys
+eat out of the same porringer, and broke of the same bread.
+
+After breakfast Giles went out to work, and Charles thought it very dull
+till he returned to dinner. When Dame Bloomfield gave her children their
+dinners there was a dumpling for everyone but Charles; then Giles cut
+his dumpling in half, and gave one part to Charles, and eat the other
+half himself. Now this was very good of Giles, for he was very hungry
+himself, but he could not bear to see Charles sad and hungry while he
+was eating, and Giles liked to do good because he knew it was pleasing
+to God.
+
+As soon as dinner was over Giles went out to work again, and Charles was
+as dull as he had been in the morning, for all the family were at work
+in some way or other, and could not spare time to amuse or talk to him,
+and he did nothing but sigh and fret to himself till evening, when Giles
+came home from work.
+
+Giles's eldest sister made a bright fire, and they all sat round it and
+talked and told stories, and Giles nursed the baby, and played with the
+other little ones, and seemed quite happy, and so he was, for he had
+done his duty, and everyone loved him for being so good.
+
+After supper Giles taught those of his sisters who were old enough to
+read and write, and when they had finished learning their tasks Charles
+took up the book, and said: 'Giles, will you teach me to read?' and
+Giles said: 'Certainly, Master Charles, I will, but I am sure you must
+know how to read a great deal better than such a poor boy as I am.'
+
+'I might have done so,' said Charles, 'but, Giles, I was a sad, naughty,
+perverse boy, and hated to learn any thing that was good; but I hope I
+know better now, and if you will only take the trouble of teaching me I
+will try and make up for my lost time.'
+
+So Giles gave Charles a lesson that very night, and every evening after
+supper he heard him read and spell what he had learned during the day,
+and Charles took such pains that he soon began to read so well that he
+used to amuse himself by reading pretty stories, and by teaching little
+Betty, one of Giles's youngest sisters, to read.
+
+Still Charles used to be exceedingly hungry, for he had not more than
+half the quantity of food he was used to eat, and Giles was hungry too,
+and grew pale and thin.
+
+Then Charles said to himself: 'It is not right for me to eat the bread
+which poor Giles works so hard to earn; I will try and get my own
+living, for why should I not do so, as well as Giles?' So one morning,
+when Giles rose, as usual, at five o'clock, Charles got up too. Then
+Giles said:
+
+'Why do you rise so early this cold morning, Master Charles?'
+
+'Because I am going out to work with you, Giles, if you will permit me,'
+answered Charles.
+
+'Oh, Master Charles, such work as I do is not fit for a young gentleman
+like you,' said Giles.
+
+'You must not call me a young gentleman _now_, for I am only a poor boy,
+and poorer than other poor boys, for they can earn their own living,
+while I should have been starved to death had not you given me half of
+the bread you work so hard for. But I will not be a burthen to you any
+longer, but learn to work and get my own living as you do.'
+
+Charles now meant to keep his word, and they both went out into the
+fields, and worked together at picking stones off the young crops of
+wheat and clover, and before breakfast Giles had picked up two bushels
+of stones and Charles one, and the farmer gave them a penny per bushel
+for gathering them up.
+
+Then they made haste back to the cottage, and Giles gave his mother the
+money he had earned, and Charles did the same, and when the dame poured
+out the milk for the family Charles saw that she filled a porringer for
+him also, and they had all a good breakfast that morning, and Charles
+felt quite happy because he had not eaten the bread of idleness. So he
+went out to work with Giles again, and earned twopence before dinner.
+
+When Dame Bloomfield took up the dumplings Charles saw there was one for
+him, and he felt happy that poor Giles had not to deprive himself of
+half his food that he might eat.
+
+Charles went out to work every day with Giles, and in the evening he
+learned to read and write. He became quite good and gentle, and enjoyed
+more happiness than he had experienced in his life before. And why was
+Charles happy? I will tell you, my dear children. Because he was no
+longer a proud, froward boy as he had been, but was kind and
+sweet-tempered to everyone, and did his duty both to God and himself.
+
+The winter passed swiftly away, and the spring came, and the birds began
+to sing, and the trees looked green and gay, and the pretty flowers
+bloomed in the gardens and covered the meadows all over, and scented the
+air with their fragrance, and Charles thought it very pleasant to work
+in the fields, and hear the birds sing as they tended their young, or
+built their nests among the green boughs or in the hedges.
+
+One day Giles said to Charles: 'Master Charles, we cannot work together
+in the fields any more; I have got a new employment.'
+
+'But why cannot I work with you?' asked Charles.
+
+'Because, sir, you will not like to work where I am going,' answered
+Giles. Charles asked where that was. 'In the garden of the great house,
+Master Charles, where you used to live,' said Giles.
+
+Charles looked very sorrowful, and remained silent for some minutes; at
+last he said: 'Well, Giles, I will go with you; my clothes are grown
+shabby now, and nobody will know me, and if they did I hope I am too
+wise to be ashamed of doing my duty, so let us go directly.'
+
+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 eightpence 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.
+
+Then he told Clara all that had happened to him since the day they had
+parted, and how sorry he had been for all his past conduct, and he asked
+her who the gentleman was that had brought her into the garden.
+
+'It is our uncle, dear Charles. You know our dear mother had a brother
+who lived in India that she used frequently to talk about. Well, when he
+came home, and heard that mother was dead, and we were in distress, he
+came to nurse's cottage, and took me home to his house, and has now come
+to find you, for he is very good and kind, and loves us both for our
+dear mother's sake.'
+
+'And will he take me home too?' said Charles.
+
+'Yes, my boy,' said Charles's uncle, taking him by the hand, 'because
+you are good and kind, and are no longer cross and proud, as I heard you
+used to be. You shall come home with me this very day, if you please,
+and I will teach you everything that a young gentleman should know, and
+you and Clara shall be my children so long as you continue to be
+deserving of my love, and are not unkind, nor despise those who are
+beneath you in situation.'
+
+'Indeed, uncle,' said Charles, 'I can now feel for the poor, and I would
+rather remain as I am than be rich if I thought I should ever behave as
+I used to do.'
+
+'My dear child,' said his uncle, kissing him with great affection,
+'continue to think so, and you will never act amiss. The first and
+greatest step toward amendment is acknowledging our faults. What is
+passed shall be remembered no more, and I doubt not but that we shall
+all be happy for the time to come.'
+
+'But, uncle,' said Charles, laying his hand on his uncle's arm, 'I have
+something to ask of you.'
+
+'Well, Charles, and what would you have of me?' said his uncle.
+
+Then Charles led Giles to his uncle, and related all he had done for
+him; how he had taken him to his own home, and given him half of his
+food and his bed, and taught him to read and to work; he, likewise, told
+his uncle how ill he had behaved to Giles in depriving him of his pretty
+Snowball, and he said: 'Dear uncle, will you allow Giles to share my
+good fortune, for I cannot be happy while he is in want, and he is
+better than me, for he returned good for evil.'
+
+Then his uncle said: 'Charles, I should not have loved you had you
+forgotten your kind friend.' And he asked Giles if he would like to go
+to his house and live with him, and spend his time in learning to read
+and write, and in improving his mind, instead of hard labour.
+
+'I should like it very much indeed, sir,' said Giles, 'but I cannot
+accept your kind offer.'
+
+'And why not, my good little friend?'
+
+'Because, sir,' said Giles, bursting into tears, 'my poor mother and
+sisters must go to the workhouse or starve if I did not stay and work
+for them, and I could not be happy if I lived in a fine house, and knew
+they were in want of a bit of bread to eat.'
+
+'Then,' said the gentleman smiling, 'for your sake they shall never want
+anything, for I will put them into a cottage of my own, and will take
+care of them, and you shall live with me, and I will love you as if you
+were my own child, and remember, Giles, I do this as a reward for your
+kindness to Charles when he was unhappy and in great distress.'
+
+Charles's uncle was as good as his word, and Giles received the
+blessings of a good education, while his mother and sisters were
+maintained by the benevolence of his benefactor.
+
+Charles was so careful not to relapse into his former errors that he
+became as remarkable for his gentleness and the goodness of his heart as
+he had formerly been for his pride and unkindness, and in the diligent
+performance of his duty, both to God and man, he proved to his uncle the
+sincerity of his amendment.
+
+
+
+
+Scourhill's Adventures
+
+
+There was a review of a regiment of horse at a small distance from the
+Academy, and several of the boys were allowed to be present. On the road
+they fell in with a man who was walking, and leading a horse with two
+empty panniers suspended on each side of it. Scourhill requested a ride;
+the man consented, and the youth mounted upon the horse.
+
+The animal had long been a dragoon horse, and when it became old it was
+sold to a farmer. But it had not forgot its early habits, for on
+arriving within sight of the cavalry the old charger pricked up its
+ears, and seemed to resume the fire of youth. The young men laughed, and
+complimented Scourhill on the appearance he made upon his war-horse; but
+while they were yet speaking the trumpet sounded, and the animal, roused
+into spirit, set off at a full trot, and fell into the front rank.
+Immediately the signal was given for a charge, and Scourhill and his
+horse, with the baskets dangling by its sides, flew off at full speed,
+amid the shouts and huzzas of the whole crowd. The instant that the
+regiment halted the youth slid off the horse, which he delivered to its
+owner, and, completely mortified with his military exhibition, he sunk
+into the crowd, and regained his companions.
+
+The young men, on their return home, as they were about to enter the
+village, saw an ass feeding by the roadside. 'What a fine appearance,'
+said Falsesight to Scourhill, 'you would make upon this noble animal, at
+the head of the regiment!' Saying this, he attempted to leap upon its
+back, but was not able. Scourhill, in order to show his agility, made a
+spring, and easily accomplished what his companion had tried in vain.
+Instantly Falsesight took off his hat, and gave the animal a few slaps,
+and away it cantered into the village, pursued by the young men, urging
+it to full speed, while every boy whom they met joined in the pursuit,
+and every cottage poured out its matrons and children and dogs.
+
+In the midst of this uproar, the Rector entered the village, and was
+coming full upon Scourhill and his retinue when the ass made a sudden
+halt before the door of a tinker, its master, and threw its rider upon a
+large heap of mire. The youth instantly started up, and, without ever
+looking behind him to thank his attendants for the procession, he ran
+home to the Academy.
+
+He retired, and some time after his arrival he wrote a small note to the
+Rector, expressive of sorrow for his conduct, and requesting permission
+to keep his room for the evening. Mr. Macadam granted the request, and
+at the same time desired the servant to say that he was assured that
+Master Scourhill would find himself much fatigued after his brilliant
+display of assmanship, which so much astonished the village.
+
+The errors of a boy must be corrected by corporal punishment, or by the
+deprivation of something which he values, or by his own self-reproach.
+The whole aim of Mr. Macadam, in the education of his pupils, was to
+raise them to that dignity of character which renders the last mode of
+punishment efficient for right conduct. To raise youth, however, to such
+a character requires knowledge, vigilance, affectionate severity, and
+prudent indulgence; and if few boys possess it, let us not complain of
+human nature. Will the husbandman who in spring has neglected his fields
+meet with commiseration when he complains that his harvest has failed?
+
+Scourhill received no punishment, excepting what arose from his own
+sense of shame; but next day the Rector spoke to his pupils, and he
+particularly cautioned them against those pursuits which tend to debase
+the character. 'The rich,' said he, 'owe their virtues and talents to
+society as much as the poor man does his industry; and if the former
+fall into low amusements, they do not become useless only; they
+frequently become vicious, and sometimes they make as honourable an
+exhibition as did Master Scourhill on the ass pursued by the boys and
+dogs of the village.'
+
+The youth was advised to make some reparation or apology to the tinker,
+the particular nature of which was left to his own discretion; and for
+this purpose he was permitted to leave the Academy for the evening.
+
+The tinker had a child, and Scourhill thought that an apology to the
+father and a present to the son would amply atone for his imprudence.
+
+[Illustration: _Every boy ... joined in the pursuit, and every cottage
+poured out its matrons and children and dogs.--Page 163._]
+
+Before entering the village, Scourhill had to pass a mill. A child
+playing on the margin of the stream that supplied it with water fell in,
+and was floating toward the mill-wheel, when the youth, seeing its
+danger, rushed forward, and caught it by the clothes just as it was on
+the point of destruction. Several people witnessed the event, and the
+report that a child was carried into the mill-wheel flew through the
+village, and every mother came running to the place. The woman to whom
+the child belonged soon heard its name, and, pushing in a frantic manner
+through the crowd, she flew to it, and, taking it in her arms, cried,
+clasping it to her bosom, 'My child, my child!' She then silently gazed
+upon its face, apparently to see whether it was really alive, and,
+shedding tears, she exclaimed, 'Heaven be praised!'
+
+After her mind became somewhat more composed, Scourhill was pointed out
+to her; she in a moment put the child out of her arms, and, hastily
+making up to the youth, she embraced him, and gratefully thanked him for
+rescuing her child.
+
+Scourhill, as soon as the general attention was withdrawn from him,
+retired from the crowd, and went to the cottage of the tinker. He
+entered, and, finding the man at work, he took off his hat, and in an
+obliging manner apologized for his conduct. The tinker said, smiling:
+'To be sure, you had a grand procession, but my ass is nothing the worse
+for it, and I freely forgive you.' The youth politely thanked him, and
+just as he was about to retire, he slipped a little money into the hand
+of the tinker's son.
+
+The child, proud of its present, showed it to its father, who instantly
+threw down his tools and ran out of the house after the youth. The crowd
+were returning from the mill; Scourhill had to pass through it, and the
+matrons were not a little surprised to see the deliverer of the child
+pursued by the mender of kettles. The tinker soon overtook him, and,
+having thanked him for his polite and generous conduct, he turned about
+and satisfied the curiosity of those who surrounded him. Scourhill
+received much applause, and while he continued his course every eye
+pursued him in admiration.
+
+Mr. Macadam wrote an account of the preceding adventures to Scourhill's
+father, and the old gentleman returned an answer, in which he says:
+'Your letter rejoices my heart. Make my son Joseph a scholar, but, above
+all, make him an honest man. I know little about your Latin and Greek,
+as being things very much out of my way; but this I know--that a man, if
+his heart is right, can look a fellow-creature in the face; but without
+being an honest man, why, he had better not live.
+
+'When your letter came to hand, I was sitting at dinner, after a most
+noble chase, in the midst of my friends, all men of the right sort,
+downright hearty good fellows. The cloth was removed, and we had just
+sung, _Bright Phoebus had mounted his chariot of day_, when my servant
+Jonathan came in with your letter.
+
+'But you must know my servant. Jonathan is none of your flighty, bowing
+footmen that whip in upon you with the spring of a fox. No, Jonathan is
+better trained. He opens the door leisurely, and marches slowly to
+within four yards of my chair, and there he halts, his eye resting upon
+me. If the conversation is general, he comes forward, and delivers his
+message; but if I am telling one of my hunting stories, he must neither
+speak nor move till he receives my orders. Well, as I said, Jonathan
+came in with your letter. I was in the middle of one of my best stories,
+and, according to custom, he took his station. I came to a pause and
+looked at him. He made his bow, but I continued my story. I made a
+second pause, and again turned my eye toward him. He bowed. "I see you,
+Jonathan," said I, and went on with my story. At the third pause I took
+a few seconds to breathe. The honest fellow made one of his lowest bows.
+I said to him, "Come hither. A letter you have for me? Let me see it."
+(I know your handwriting.) "Carry it, honest Jonathan, to your
+mistress," said I; "for my story is not yet finished. It is from the
+worthy man, the Rector; it is about Joseph; return, and let me know
+whether the youngster continues to behave well."
+
+'One of the company remarked the peculiar manner of Jonathan, and this
+brought on a conversation concerning servants. "I have an Irish one,"
+said Squire Danby, "a fellow with a sly, blunt countenance; but his
+heart is honest and affectionate. Yesterday I sent him with a message;
+he stayed too long, and on his return I was much displeased. 'Where do
+you come from?' I cried in an angry tone. 'From Belfast,' he calmly
+replied. 'What!' exclaimed I, raising my voice, 'you are still the old
+man in your answers!' 'Old man,' replied he, with a blunt but respectful
+air; 'that is just what my father used to say. "Pat," says he, "were you
+to live to the age of Methuselah, you would still be Patrick O'Donnar."'
+I lost all patience. 'Sirrah!' cried I, 'to whom do you speak?' 'Sir,
+did you not know,' answered he, 'I would tell you.' I was extremely
+provoked; I gave him a push from me, and he fell upon a favourite dog,
+which set up a loud howl. Pat leisurely arose, muttering, 'Ay, Towler, I
+see you are ashamed,' and he walked slowly away. He soon returned, and,
+coming up to me, said with a grave countenance that he was determined to
+quit my service. My anger had subsided, and I, smiling, said, 'Why, Pat,
+leave my service?' 'Because, sir,' replied he, 'there is no bearing with
+your anger.' 'Tut, my anger,' I cried, 'it is a mere blast, which is
+quickly over.' 'Yes,' said he, with one of his vacant stares, 'it is a
+blast; but it is the blast of a hurricane which knocks me down.' I
+easily reconciled him to his situation."
+
+'In a short while Jonathan came back, and in a fluttered manner said
+that his mistress wanted to speak with me. Immediately I left the table,
+and went to my wife. As I entered the door of the apartment, I saw that
+she was in tears; my heart sunk; my limbs trembled, and, walking up to
+her, I took her hand, and kissed her cheek; for we have ever lived in a
+loving manner, and I cried, "My dear, be comforted. Is our son Joseph
+dead?" She in a hurried tone talked of a dragoon horse, an ass, a child,
+and a tinker. "What!" cried I, "my dear, has our son Joseph to do with
+dragoon asses and horses?" I unwittingly put the asses first. She
+laughed. I stared at her, and, shaking my head, I said to myself, "Ah!
+my poor wife!" For I really thought that she was touched in the brain.
+
+'She then thrust the letter into my hand; I read it, and when I came to
+the last part I felt that I was a father. When I saw my boy catching the
+child, when I saw the mother embracing him, when I saw them all blessing
+him, my heart overflowed with tenderness, and I exclaimed, "He is indeed
+my son Joseph." My wife, who saw that I was affected, wept, and, while I
+was drying my own eyes, I always cried to her, "My dear, do not weep."
+
+'I then descended to the company, with the letter in my hand, and told
+them that I should let them hear a story about my son. I then gave the
+letter to my friend, Squire Sleekface, and requested him to read it. My
+friend, who is almost as broad as long, has a jolly round countenance,
+and when he is merry he shakes the whole house with his laughter. The
+Squire read with decent composure till he came to the old horse at full
+charge, with the paniers dancing by its sides. Here he made a full stop;
+the letter fell upon his knee, and his sides were convulsed with
+laughter. He began again, and got tolerably well through with the ass
+race, till he arrived at the turning-post, where Joseph was laid in the
+mire. At this place my friend, with his immoderate laughter, slid off
+his chair, and fell with his back flat upon the floor, and there he lay
+rolling from one side to another, while we all stood round him shaking
+our sides with laughter. At this moment honest Jonathan stalked in with
+his solemn pace, and took his station waiting my orders. His appearance
+added still more to our mirth.
+
+'At length said I, "Honest Jonathan, lend us a hand." We got the Squire
+placed upon his chair; we all dried our eyes, and again took our seats.
+When the last part of your letter was read, all was silence and
+attention, and at the end of it my friend Sleekface called, "A bumper!"
+He then gave the toast, "May Joseph honour his father by being an honest
+man!" The second toast was, "May we, without being philosophers, embrace
+every man as a brother; and, without being courtiers, may we ever smile
+upon a friend!" We then drank the land o' cakes, and we concluded the
+whole with singing "Rule Britannia."'
+
+
+
+
+The Journal
+
+
+It was the custom in Mr. Pemberton's family for the children and their
+governess, Miss Lambert, to assemble in the parlour every Saturday
+evening that she might read a journal of their behaviour during the past
+week in the presence of their father and mother. Those who were
+conscious of having acted rightly longed for the time of examination, as
+they were sure not only of receiving applause, but also of being
+admitted as guests to supper, when an agreeable entertainment was
+provided for them.
+
+The countenances of the guilty were easily distinguished. Gladly would
+they have avoided the eye of their parents on these occasions, but that
+was not allowed; they were obliged to appear. Indeed, their attendance
+constituted part of their punishment.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Pemberton always invited company to be present when they
+had received an intimation from Miss Lambert that no faults were
+registered in the journal, which frequently happened, as they were
+children of docile dispositions, though sometimes they acted without
+consideration. Several ladies in the neighbourhood took particular
+pleasure in bringing their sons and daughters to be spectators of those
+joyful evenings.
+
+After the journal was read, rewards were bestowed on those who had
+deserved them. Supper was then served up, which generally consisted of
+dried fruits, milk, with blanc-mange, jellies, etc., placed with great
+taste by Miss Pemberton, who was always required to set out the table on
+those nights.
+
+The repast being over, the time was spent pleasantly, either in cheerful
+conversation, or some amusement suitable to the festivity of the
+occasion.
+
+Charlotte Somenors, one of their intimate companions, was frequently
+invited to partake of their pleasure on a happy Saturday, for so they
+termed those days when none of them had reason to be oppressed by the
+fear of punishment.
+
+The last time she attended one of those meetings I requested her to give
+me an account of the transactions of the evening, with which I was so
+much pleased that I committed it to writing, lest the circumstances
+should escape my memory; and as I suppose it is likely to amuse my young
+readers, and at the same time to furnish them with instructive examples,
+I transcribe it for their use. The company being met, Miss Lambert
+introduced her pupils--Caroline, Emma, Lucy, and George--after which she
+sat down and began to read as follows:
+
+'It is with great pleasure I recall the events of the last few days.
+Although they will not present a perfect model of virtue and obedience,
+they at least prove that the dear children entrusted to my care are
+willing to repair the faults which they have inadvertently committed. I
+trust that the errors which this journal records will be considered as
+wholly effaced by the repentance and confessions they have occasioned.
+
+'_Monday._--Morning lessons particularly well attended. George learned a
+hymn of Mrs. Barbauld's at his own request. A dispute arose between the
+two young ladies in the afternoon on the subject of choosing a walk.
+
+'Miss Pemberton was desirous of winding along the banks of the river, as
+far as the church, that she might see the fine new monument raised to
+the memory of Lady Modish. Her sisters insisted on going to the next
+village, as they wanted to buy muslin for a doll's frock. After some
+little altercation on each side Caroline, with affectionate
+condescension, gave way to her sisters' inclination, though, as eldest,
+she had the right of choice, saying she could see the monument another
+time. I thought her conduct deserved a reward; therefore, after
+purchasing the articles her sisters wanted, I indulged her by extending
+our walk to the church.
+
+'_Tuesday._--George came running in out of breath to show me a
+birds'-nest he had just taken. It belonged to the blackbirds that used
+to amuse us with their song in the grove. "Alas! George, you have robbed
+my favourite birds of their eggs. We shall no longer be charmed with
+their warbling; they will droop, and perhaps die of grief."
+
+'"The gardener told me where to find the nest. He lifted me up to take
+it, and I thought there was no harm in it, as the young ones were not
+hatched, and intended to make my sisters a present of the eggs."
+
+'The young ladies cried out with one voice that they never could accept
+a gift procured by such cruelty, and desired him to make haste and
+replace it where he found it.
+
+'At first he was reluctant to comply with this proposal, but after I had
+convinced him of the affection of the old ones, even towards their eggs,
+and the pains it had cost them to build the nest, he repented that he
+had taken it, and was as desirous as any of us that it should be
+returned to its former situation. He has now the satisfaction of daily
+watching the solicitude and tenderness of the hen, which sits close, and
+we hope will hatch in a few days.
+
+'_Wednesday._--I was surprised on entering Lucy's apartment to hear her
+command Betty in a very imperious tone to wash out all her doll's linen
+immediately.
+
+'The poor girl remonstrated that she had a great deal of business to do,
+and should have no time; but that she would wash it the first
+opportunity with pleasure. Lucy repeated her commands, and would receive
+no excuse. When she saw me she blushed, conscious that her behaviour
+would not meet my approbation. I sent Betty downstairs, and explained to
+Lucy the impropriety of such conduct. "Gentleness to inferiors," said I,
+"is the mark of a good understanding, as well as of a sweet disposition.
+Servants are our fellow-creatures. Though situated less fortunately than
+ourselves, are we to increase the unhappiness of their lot by the
+tyranny of our treatment towards them? Circumstances may change. Your
+father may become poor, and you may be reduced to the conditions of a
+servant. Consider how unkind harsh words would appear to you, and never
+say that to a domestic which would wound you in their situation. Merit
+is confined to no rank. Betty is a worthy young woman, and entitled to
+your respect as well as tenderness, for the many kind offices she
+performs for you. What a helpless being would you be without her
+assistance! She makes your clothes, and aids you to put them on; she
+nurses you when you are sick, and attends you on all occasions. Can you
+forget the obligations you owe her, and command her with haughtiness?
+There is but one way to repair your fault. You have insulted her; ask
+her forgiveness."
+
+'"That I will do most willingly," replied Lucy. "I love Betty, and
+should be very sorry to have said anything to vex her. I spoke without
+reflection."
+
+'She ran downstairs directly and made a proper apology to Betty, and I
+have the pleasure to add has since bought a pretty ribbon with her
+pocket-money, which she has given her as a token of her regards.
+
+'_Thursday._--Emma is extremely fond of keeping animals of different
+kinds in a domestic state, and I laid no restraint upon this inclination
+whilst I observed her attentive to supply the daily wants of each. On
+Thursday morning I had the mortification to find her bird-cages dirty,
+and the glasses for food and water almost empty. I made no remark, but
+proceeded to the room where she keeps her silk-worms. The trays were
+filled with dead leaves, which the poor insects crawled over, vainly
+endeavouring to find a piece sufficiently moist to satisfy their craving
+appetite. From thence I went to the rabbits, and found them without
+victuals, and so hungry that they had begun to gnaw the belts of the
+hutches. I inquired for Emma, but was some time before I could discover
+where she was. At length I found her very busy in making a garden with
+her brother George, so much taken up with her new employment that she
+had totally forgotten to clean or feed her poor prisoners. When I told
+her the situation they were in she shed tears and reproached herself
+with great neglect. She did not lose a moment in making all the
+reparation in her power, but immediately left the garden that had so
+much engrossed her thoughts and supplied her dumb family with suitable
+food and attendance. This circumstance afforded me an opportunity of
+expressing my sentiments on depriving birds of their liberty, and
+confining them in cages, a custom I cannot approve, as it not only
+subjects them to suffer much when they are first caught, but frequently
+exposes them to a cruel death from the negligence of those who have the
+care of them.
+
+[Illustration: _George was despatched to desire one of the servants to
+bring a basket, in which we carried the poor sufferer.--Page 179._]
+
+'Cowper has written some pleasing lines on a goldfinch starved to death
+in a cage, which Emma has learned by heart, and will repeat when I have
+finished reading. Her concern was so great for her carelessness that she
+offered to let her birds fly, and turn the rabbits out on the common.
+Pleased with her intention to do right, I gave her high commendations;
+but informed her that they were rendered unable to provide for
+themselves by being kept in a state of confinement, and therefore even
+liberty would be a barbarous gift to them now. Punctuality in supplying
+them with everything necessary was the only kindness that can be shown
+to them, since they have forgotten the habits of their state of Nature.
+She has been very exact since this conversation in feeding and cleaning
+them, and does everything in her power to make amends for their loss of
+freedom.
+
+'_Friday._--As we were walking through the meadows Caroline observed
+something white lying near a hedge. Curiosity tempted us to approach it.
+As we drew near we found it was a young lamb almost dead, by some
+accident abandoned by its dam. Its helpless condition called forth our
+pity, and we consulted how we should contrive to carry it home. After
+much deliberation George was despatched to desire one of the servants to
+bring a basket, in which we carried the poor sufferer. Cold and hunger
+were its principal disorders, which were soon relieved by the assiduity
+of my humane companions. We chafed it by the fire, whilst another
+prepared bread and milk, that it might suck through a quill. Caroline
+could not sleep, lest the lamb should suffer for want of food, but rose
+several times in the night to give it nourishment. Such kind treatment
+soon restored it to health. It is decorated with a blue ribbon about its
+neck, and is already become a general favourite.
+
+'_Saturday._--George has been so much taken up in playing with the lamb
+this morning that he has suffered himself to be called three times to
+attend Mr. Spicer, his writing-master, before he made any reply, and
+when he did come, I am sorry to say that the blots in his copy-book
+showed that his attention was not fixed upon his employment. After some
+reproof he acknowledged his fault, and wrote another copy in his very
+best manner.
+
+'I have now finished the account of the most remarkable transactions of
+this week, and though I am sensible that it exposes the levity and
+thoughtlessness of my pupils, I flatter myself that there are some marks
+in the disposition of each which promise improvement and more caution
+for the time to come.'
+
+
+
+
+Ellen and George
+
+or
+
+The Game at Cricket
+
+
+'Sit down, Ellen,' said Mrs. Danvers to a lovely little girl of seven
+years of age, who was constantly jumping up to the window, instead of
+continuing to look at the book she was holding in her hand, but Ellen
+continued to look anywhere rather than at her book, and her mother began
+to feel angry.
+
+The sun shone very brightly; it was a fine day in the month of June, and
+little Ellen thought it very hard that she was obliged to sit in the
+house instead of running about the fields with her brother George.
+
+George was at home for the holidays; he was a fine boy of about nine
+years of age, and very fond of his sister Ellen; he would very often
+leave his companions to play with Ellen at quieter games than such as he
+engaged in with them, and Ellen was delighted when he would thus indulge
+her; but on this morning George was with a party of young lads, somewhat
+older than himself, who were engaged in a game of cricket, and poor
+Ellen was obliged to go through her morning's task without him.
+
+'Should you not like to go and see George play by-and-by?' said Mrs.
+Danvers.
+
+'I should like it very much, mother,' replied Ellen in a tone of
+delight.
+
+'Then mind your book now,' said her mother, 'and we will afterwards walk
+down to the cricket-field together. Father will be at home then,
+perhaps, and we shall have a nice walk together.'
+
+For a few minutes Ellen looked in her book; she was very fond of her
+father and of walking out with him, but not even this promised scheme of
+pleasure could prevent her eyes from wandering every five minutes to the
+window, and at length a shout from the boys, who were in the field
+adjoining the house, entirely overcame her resolution, and again she
+made a sudden spring to the window.
+
+The book was a sad drawback to Ellen's happiness, for she never looked
+in it unless obliged, and her mother had always great difficulty in
+fixing her attention on it when she wished to do so.
+
+Mrs. Danvers rose from her seat, and quietly lowered the venetian blind,
+and Ellen again stole back to her seat. She looked out of the corner of
+one of her little blue eyes to see if her mother was angry, and again
+for a few minutes was very assiduous. Presently the room door opened,
+and a servant entered to say that a poor woman wished to speak to his
+mistress. Mrs. Danvers desired that the woman should be shown into the
+room, and she entered, leading in her hand a little girl about the age
+of Ellen. Ellen's eyes were immediately diverted from her book, but her
+mother on this occasion said nothing.
+
+The poor woman came to entreat assistance for her sick husband, who was
+unable to go to his work, and for her little girl, who had cut her
+finger very badly. The child's finger was covered with a piece of rag,
+which was soaked with blood, and tears streaming from her eyes showed
+that she was in pain.
+
+'How was the finger cut?' said Mrs. Danvers.
+
+'In helping father cut a piece of wood to mend Charley's hayfork,'
+replied the child. 'Father fell down in a fit, and let the knife fall
+upon my finger.'
+
+'It is a bad cut,' said Mrs. Danvers. 'Run, Ellen, and ask Sarah for
+some rag, and we will tie it up for her.'
+
+Ellen was out of the room in a minute, for she liked running about and
+waiting upon anyone in distress. Indeed, Ellen was on the whole a good
+little girl, though she could not be made to like either her book or her
+work. She soon returned with the rag, and Mrs. Danvers tied up the
+little girl's finger, and gave her a nice slice of cake to divert her
+attention from the pain she was suffering.
+
+'Is it painful now?' said Mrs. Danvers.
+
+'No, madam,' replied the child, but she still continued to cry.
+
+'Then do not cry any more, and it will be soon well.'
+
+'Mary does not cry so much about the pain, madam,' said the poor woman,
+'as because you see it is her thimble finger;' and she held the little
+girl's hand up.
+
+Ellen thought this could be no very great misfortune, but Ellen was a
+silly little girl to think so, and so she was convinced when the poor
+woman said that Mary did needlework enough to keep her in shoes, and
+with the pennies she got by reading her book well at school she had
+bought two nice pinafores out of her own money.
+
+Ellen looked a little foolish and hung her head. The poor woman and the
+industrious little girl left the room after Mrs. Danvers had promised
+to call on the sick man in the evening, and Ellen again took up her
+book.
+
+'I am afraid you will never get any pennies for reading well,' said Mrs.
+Danvers in a few minutes, for again Ellen's eyes were off her book. The
+kitten had frisked into the room; it was playing with a cork under the
+sofa, and Ellen laughed aloud as she saw it turn round, and over and
+over.
+
+'If you like the kitten better than George,' said Mrs. Danvers, 'you may
+continue looking at it, and stay at home and read when your father and I
+go out into the fields by-and-by.'
+
+'Then pray, mother, put the kitten out of the room,' said Ellen. Mrs.
+Danvers did so, and again Ellen seated herself on her little stool with
+her book.
+
+Ellen now really applied to her book, for she was very much afraid of
+being left at home when her father and mother went out for their walk.
+It was very little trouble to her to learn when she gave her attention
+to her lessons, and at length she got over them very creditably and
+without another word of reproof from mother.
+
+'Now, Ellen,' said Mrs. Danvers, when the book was closed, 'if you had
+attended to your lessons at once it would have been over long since, and
+by this time you might have finished your work, and have been running in
+the field or garden. It is twelve o'clock, but I must have this
+handkerchief hemmed before you move.'
+
+'Oh dear,' said Ellen, with a most sorrowful look, 'I thought I should
+have gone out now. What a happy boy George is. Oh dear, I wish I was a
+boy, and then I should be running about all day, and should not be
+obliged to work.'
+
+'You would not be obliged to work with your needle, Ellen,' said Mrs.
+Danvers, as she turned down the hem of the handkerchief, 'but you would
+have a great many things to learn much harder than you have now, and
+which would take you a great deal of time to get by heart unless you
+were more attentive than you frequently are.'
+
+'Oh, I am sure I could learn them, mother,' answered Ellen; 'besides,
+George has nothing to do--nothing but to play and amuse himself all day
+long.'
+
+'This is not the case when George is at school, I can tell you, Ellen,'
+replied Mrs. Danvers, 'nor is it always the case, you know, at home, and
+I much question whether the days that George sits down with his father
+for a few hours after breakfast are not happier days generally than
+those which he spends exactly in the manner he himself chooses.'
+
+'Oh, I think he is generally laughing and merry,' said Ellen, 'when he
+sets off after breakfast into the hayfield, or the cricket meadow; much
+more so than when he walks with his grave face and his book under his
+arm into father's study.'
+
+'And I very well remember, Ellen,' replied Mrs. Danvers, 'that this
+merry mood of his, which you think so delightful, has more than once
+ended in a flood of tears before night, while, on the contrary, I think
+the grave study countenance is generally turned into lasting smiles by
+dinner-time. But if you continue chatting the work will never be done.
+Sit quietly, and be industrious for half an hour, and then we will go
+into the garden together, and see if the gardener has any strawberries
+for us; I dare say George's companions will like some strawberries and
+milk after their game.'
+
+While Ellen is attending to her mother's directions, and industriously
+performing the task required of her; we will take a view of George and
+his young companions, and see whether or not he is likely to be tired
+of his day of idleness.
+
+George had got up very early in the morning to prepare the wickets for
+the game of cricket, which had been proposed to him by several lads
+living in the neighbourhood. If the young reader is a little girl and
+not a cricket player herself, she must ask her brothers or cousins to
+describe to her what are wickets, and if neither of these are near her
+she must ask her father, who will no doubt be very happy to give her the
+desired information. George had been awake very early indeed, but as he
+had had a strict injunction never to be out of doors before the gardener
+and groom were at their work, he had lain in bed till he heard the
+stable-door opened, and then, hastily jumping up and dressing himself,
+had said his prayers, and was downstairs before the clock struck five.
+He then went to what he called his toolhouse, which was a little shed by
+the side of the greenhouse, where the gardeners kept their
+watering-pots, and where he had a box containing a hammer, a saw, and a
+plane adapted to the use of young hands, and a small box containing
+nails. He had also here a repository of pieces of wood thrown aside by
+the carpenter, and old sides and covers of boxes, which were no longer
+of any service for the uses for which they were designed, and here it
+was that George's day of pleasure commenced. He hammered and chopped and
+sawed like any workman toiling for his bread till eight o'clock, which
+was the hour for breakfast, when, being somewhat hot and tired, he was
+not very sorry to hear the summons to a good plateful of bread and
+butter, and a fine sweet draught of new milk. Young spirits are soon
+refreshed, and George did not sit long at his breakfast; the meal was
+soon despatched, and George again was out of doors and in his toolhouse.
+Hither Ellen had accompanied him for a few minutes to see the wickets
+completed, and, when finished, she had left him, longing to make one of
+the party who were now assembling to their play, and with whom she left
+him to return into the house, and join her mother in the drawing-room.
+
+[Illustration: _Hither Ellen accompanied him to see the wickets
+completed.--Page 186._]
+
+The boys soon began to play, and for some time the game went on very
+well--all was high good humour; but George was the least of the party,
+and not having played so frequently, and not being so strong, did not
+get as many notches as many of his companions. At school he had been
+more accustomed to play with less boys, and perhaps with boys even less
+than himself, where he was the best player of the set, and he could not
+help feeling mortified now that he found himself the worst player, and
+not being able to keep in at all against boys who played with so much
+more skill than he did. Sometimes he would not have minded this, but the
+day was very hot, George had risen early, began to be tired, and, as the
+truth must be told on these occasions, rather cross and pettish. Several
+games had been played, all of which had been won by the set of boys of
+the side opposite to that of George, for as four of the lads with whom
+he played were good players, and the fifth, Tom Fletcher, a much better
+player than George, the consequence was that Tom and his two companions
+were always on the successful side. One of the best players, Charles
+Wilson, then proposed to make an alteration in the sides; he asked
+George to come over to him and his companions, and let Tom Fletcher take
+his place; 'And then we shall see,' he added, 'which plays the best, you
+or Tom.'
+
+'Oh, you think you know already,' said George, not in the best of
+humours, and throwing down his bat. 'I don't want to play at all, and I
+know I go for nothing.'
+
+'The young man is up,' said Wilson's companion, Stevens. 'Never mind,
+let him go; we shall do very well without him,' and he was taking up the
+discarded bat; but Wilson, who was a very good-natured boy, said:
+
+'We do not think you go for nothing, George; but it is not likely you
+should play so well as we do, who are so much bigger than you, or than
+Tom Fletcher, who lives with a bat in his hand, and always plays amongst
+the great boys. I only wanted to make the game more even, for it is very
+tiresome for one party always to win, and the others to lose. Come, let
+us play on again as we were, and perhaps you may be more lucky. Come,
+Tom, take up the bat.'
+
+Stevens looked very angry, and was about to make some provoking reply;
+but the other boys reminded him that they were playing in Mr. Danvers'
+ground, and there was no ground like his in the neighbourhood, so the
+ball was again bowled, and the bat once more sent it whirling back
+through the long field.
+
+'Well done, little fellow!' said Wilson, as George again took the bat,
+and gave a pretty good hit. 'Well done; you'll soon play very well. Tom,
+take care of yourself, and mind your play, or we shall lose a game
+against them now.'
+
+'Not if you mind your play,' replied the sharp Tom Fletcher, who saw
+that Wilson in bowling favoured George, and gave him balls that he could
+hardly help hitting. George exerted himself to the uttermost, and really
+did play better than he had done before; but his party would not have
+got the game but for the good-nature of Wilson, who did not put out his
+best play, and whose party for the first time were losers. Wilson was
+not right in doing this, because, even in a game of cricket, he ought to
+have been true to his side, and played his best. It was practising
+deceit, and deceit is never to be practised harmlessly. Neither was
+George much gratified by his success, for he felt he had gained it in a
+childish manner, and it would have been more honest to have lost the
+game. Tom Fletcher and Stevens were both extremely angry, and both
+declared they would not be beat in that way to please the humours of any
+young pet. Tom said he would be matched singly against George, and the
+other two boys agreed it would be the fairest way, and also for them to
+be matched against Stevens and Wilson, and then they should see where
+all the strength lay. Everybody agreed to this, and the two younger boys
+were to have the first game. Tom was to give George two notches to begin
+with, to which George had no objection, as Tom was allowed to be a very
+capital player for his age, and the two young antagonists commenced
+their game. For some time they went on pretty evenly. Tom was very cool
+and cautious, and George, who put out all his strength, got several
+notches, and continued ahead of his rival. It almost seemed doubtful
+whether George was not a better player than he had been taken for, and
+as the lads who were looking on cried out, 'Now, George,' 'Now, Tom,'
+George seemed to have as good a chance of the game as Tom. But Tom was
+not fagged as George was, nor was he so hasty in his temper. He was not
+at all moved at the show of adverse fortune against him, while George
+was in a complete agitation, and on the very first reverse so put out
+that he bit his lip with anger, and flung at the bowler with great
+violence the ball which he had missed. It took the direction of Tom
+Fletcher's eyebrow, narrowly escaping his eye, and the boy put up his
+hand in agony to his enlarged forehead.
+
+'Oh, I am very sorry, Tom,' said George, who had most unintentionally
+done the mischief.
+
+'Oh, I don't mind a bit,' replied Tom, who was a very hardy boy. 'Stand
+to your bat, man.' And with one hand held to his aching head, he bowled
+sharply with the other, and dashed away the wickets.
+
+'It is hardly fair play, for he was off his guard,' said one of the
+other boys.
+
+'If Tom could bowl with that black eye,' said Stevens, 'I think George
+has no right to complain.'
+
+'I don't complain,' said George, throwing down his bat. 'It's my own
+fault; I was in a passion. The game is yours, Tom.'
+
+'No, the game is not mine yet, George,' said Tom, 'even if you go out
+now, for though you sent the ball in a passion, I had no right to take
+you in as I did. I was in a passion, too, or I should not have bowled
+upon you so sharp. Come, give me your hand, and then take up the bat,
+man, and we will see what we can do.'
+
+'Then take back your two notches to set against the black eye,' said
+George, giving his hand. Tom, however, would not agree to this, and it
+was at length settled that they should go on as if nothing had happened.
+George took up the bat, and Tom returned to the bowling place. George's
+notches increased rapidly, but it was evident the cause of this was in
+Tom's eye, which by this time was almost closed, though the spirited boy
+did not once complain of pain. George requested him not to go on, but he
+persisted in bowling till his opponent threw down the bat, declaring it
+was not fair play, and he did not want to beat in that mean way.
+
+All the boys agreed that George was right, and it was determined that
+the two young ones should defer their trial of skill till Tom had
+recovered the use of his eye, and the bigger boys then commenced their
+game.
+
+It was at this period of the day that Mrs. Danvers and Ellen, after
+having taken a walk round the garden, and collected plenty of
+strawberries and cherries from the gardener, arrived in the
+cricket-field to inquire if the lads wished for any refreshment. George
+felt ashamed, as he remembered Tom Fletcher's eye, and the good-natured
+boy stepped forwards to speak to Mrs. Danvers, and draw attention from
+Tom to himself. The accident, however, could not be concealed; and
+though Tom declared that it was nothing, Mrs. Danvers was sure that he
+must be suffering great pain, and begged of him to go into the house and
+have his eye bathed. Fletcher replied that he had better go home, for
+his mother had a lotion that cured all sorts of bruises; and saying that
+he would be up in the cricket-field again before the other game was
+over, he bounded over the stile that separated one field from the next,
+and was out of sight in a minute. The other lads, who were just
+beginning their game, took some fruit of Mrs. Danvers, but declined at
+present going into the house; and after standing a few minutes with
+Ellen to look at the players, Mrs. Danvers persuaded George to accompany
+her into the house, for she saw that he was not very comfortable, and
+the day was intensely hot.
+
+As they walked along, Mrs. Danvers said nothing about the black eye, for
+she thought that it had happened through some hastiness of George. She
+found by his manner he was ashamed of himself for something, and she
+knew, as he was an honest boy, that when he was in a little better
+humour than he appeared at present he would relate to her everything
+that had passed. On arriving in the house, Mr. Danvers met them, and
+requested Mrs. Danvers to walk down into the village to see the poor man
+who had fallen down in a fit, and inquire if he wanted any assistance.
+Mrs. Danvers immediately complied, and recommending George to amuse
+himself with his sister during the rest of the morning, she left the
+house, and took the road to the village.
+
+'John has not taken that donkey home,' said Mrs. Danvers, as they passed
+through a small field where there was one picking in the hedges.
+
+'No,' replied Mr. Danvers, 'but I wish he would do so, for the animal
+only destroys the beauty of the hedges, and endeavours to make ugly gaps
+in them. It is not at all fit for the children to ride.' And they
+proceeded in their walk.
+
+As soon as his father and mother were gone, George threw himself upon
+the carpet on his back, for he was very tired, very cross, and very
+stiff.
+
+'Oh dear, what a tiresome day this is!' said he, as he rolled over on
+the carpet. 'I wish it was over and bedtime was come.'
+
+'Why, you have done nothing but play all day,' said Ellen. Now Ellen
+felt as brisk and as merry as she had done the very earliest part of the
+morning, and could not help wondering what could be the matter with
+George that he was not equally so.
+
+'It is so hot--so very hot,' said George. The kind little Ellen took her
+stool, and, standing on tiptoe, and reaching up to the top of the
+blinds, at the risk of her neck, at length succeeded in pulling them
+down, and prevented the sun from shining into George's eyes.
+
+'Oh, how dark you have made the room, child,' said George.
+
+'I thought you would like to have the sun shut out, George,' said the
+affectionate little Ellen, with a tear starting into her eyes, because
+George _would not_ be pleased with her.
+
+George saw the tear, and was vexed with himself that he had caused it;
+but at present he was not sufficiently subdued to say he was sorry, and
+he continued to roll upon the carpet backwards and forwards, till he
+rolled over against a small rose-wood cabinet which stood in one corner
+of the apartment. The slender fabric shook, and down rolled a beautiful
+little vase, which had been sent for Mrs. Danvers by a particular
+friend, and on which both the children knew she set a great value.
+George started up, and he and Ellen looked at each other. The vase was
+broken into twenty pieces. Ellen burst into tears, and George looked
+very sorrowful; but the vase was broken, and could not be restored. At
+this moment the door was opened, and a little favourite terrier dog
+bounded into the room, and began to play amongst the scattered
+fragments. He was followed by a servant, from whom he had made his
+escape, for she had been ordered to wash the dog, and the dog had
+resisted, and ran away from the bath designed for him.
+
+'Why, what a piece of work is here,' said the servant. 'Pompey, you
+little tiresome thing; now to come bouncing in here, and making all this
+mischief. What will mistress say when she sees her china broken, and all
+through you, you little tiresome puppy?'
+
+George and Ellen looked at each other for a moment. Had they not been
+well instructed to abhor a lie, and speak the truth, the temptation was
+a strong one, and they might have yielded to it; but they knew that
+although they might deceive the servant, there was One who could not be
+deceived, and by an instantaneous movement of honesty they both at once
+exclaimed:
+
+'It was not poor Pompey, Ann; it was----' Here Ellen stopped, unwilling
+to accuse her brother; but George with great firmness added: 'It was I,
+Ann.'
+
+'Well, it's a sad business,' said Ann, 'but I dare say my mistress will
+not be very angry. I am sure I should not have known but what it was
+Pompey;' and in saying this Ann, who was herself a good well-principled
+girl, silently resolved that her mistress should certainly know how the
+young gentleman and lady 'scorned,' as she said, 'to tell a lie.'
+
+Pompey was now removed, and George and Ellen were again left together.
+Ellen picked up the broken pieces, and then asked George if he had not
+better go and dress himself. 'His nice clean trousers,' she said, 'were
+quite green and dirty from rubbing about upon the grass, and the flue of
+the carpet was come off upon his jacket.' George, however, was not yet
+quite himself, though he was very much softened by the last misfortune.
+Ellen then asked him if she should get some quiet play for him--maps,
+puzzles, or bricks? But nothing would go right with George this day; all
+Ellen's efforts to amuse him were in vain, and at length he resolved
+upon going out of doors again. Ellen reminded him that mother had
+recommended him to stay indoors.
+
+'Yes, but she did not order me,' said George; 'besides, I think I ought
+to go down and ask how Tom Fletcher is, for I gave him that horrible
+blow in his face.'
+
+'But you could not help it, I am sure,' said Ellen.
+
+'I did not do it on purpose,' said George, 'but I did it in a passion,
+and that is as bad.'
+
+'Oh, this unlucky day,' said Ellen, 'and this morning I thought you so
+happy, but I think you had better stay till evening before you go down
+to Mr. Fletcher's. I am sure mother thought you had better stay quiet
+this morning, and mother is always so kind.'
+
+George felt all this, and went out of the room, and returned into it
+several times, from irresolution and dissatisfaction with himself. He
+kissed Ellen, and told her not to mind his being cross, upon which she
+threw her arm across his shoulder, and entreated him to sit quietly at
+home, and not to go out and heat himself and make himself uncomfortable
+just as he was beginning to get cool.
+
+George seemed to long to stay with Ellen, and even when he got to steps
+which led from the hall into the pleasure-grounds, he went very slowly
+down, dragging one leg after the other, half inclined to return, but at
+this moment that frisking little Pompey came by looking very bright and
+clean after his washing, and he jumped upon George, and invited him to
+play. George then gave him a call, and they bounded together over the
+fields and hedges, and were very soon lost to the sight of Ellen, who
+returned into the house, and could scarcely refrain from shedding tears.
+
+George passed with his frolicsome companion through the same field where
+Mr. and Mrs. Danvers had noticed the donkey browsing in the hedges, and
+the animal was still browsing, and picking up nettles and flowers, and
+enjoying his freedom. George might just as well have walked quietly
+through the field, and have left the poor donkey to his repast, but he
+was in a very odd sort of a humour still, and thought it would be very
+good fun to have a little scamper round the field upon the donkey's
+back. He had heard his father and mother say that the donkey had never
+been properly broken in, and that he was not fit to be ridden, but
+George thought that if he could ride a pony, which he sometimes did, he
+certainly could ride a donkey, and at any rate he was determined to try.
+He went back to the stable therefore to ask the groom for a halter, but
+the groom was not in the stable, unfortunately, or he would have known
+better, it is to be hoped, than to have encouraged the young gentleman
+in what he knew to be wrong. So George helped himself to an old piece of
+rope which he found under the cartshed, and, taking a small hunting-whip
+of his own, returned to the field with the intention of having a good
+ride. He had some difficulty in catching the animal, which was better
+pleased to graze at liberty than to be confined, and have a burthen put
+upon his back. It must be owned, nevertheless, that it was not a very
+heavy burthen preparing for him, nothing compared to the great weights
+many, many poor donkeys are compelled to toil under, and never stopping
+to rest, perhaps, from morning till night. Still, the donkey had rather
+been left in the hedges, and many a race round and round the field did
+he give George, and many a time did he kick up his hinder legs in
+defiance before George at length succeeded in throwing the halter over
+his head. The mighty feat, however, was, after repeated failures,
+accomplished, and George felt not a little satisfied when he found
+himself safely seated on the animal. He certainly was seated, but as to
+riding, it was what the donkey seemed resolved he should not do, and
+there he continued to sit, perfectly still and quiet, for some minutes,
+for although the animal had shown great fleetness and alacrity when
+George was attempting to stop him, it was very different now George was
+endeavouring to make him go on. George kicked as hard as he could kick
+with both his heels, and flogged with all his might, but the stubborn
+beast would not stir an inch. He then got off his back, and led him into
+the road, which he had some difficulty in accomplishing, and when there
+he would not go a bit better than in the field. He had no preference to
+the turnpike road, and George, after fatiguing himself, and getting into
+a violent heat by beating and thumping the animal's impenetrable skin,
+considered that he had better get him back again into the field, and
+there leave him. But here again the stubborn beast perplexed him; he
+would not budge an inch, no, not even when George pulled and dragged him
+by the halter till his arms ached so much he was obliged to desist. Now
+what was to be done? The donkey was not his father's; it was borrowed.
+If he left it on the road it would be lost or stolen, and as to riding
+it or leading it away it seemed entirely impossible. He was standing in
+not a very happy mood, and leaning against the donkey's neck, when a
+butcher's boy came jogging along upon his shaggy and bareboned pony.
+
+'Do you want to get him on, sir?' said the boy.
+
+'Yes, but he won't stir,' said George.
+
+'Oh, trust me to making him stir,' replied the hatless, greasy-haired
+lad. 'Get upon his back, sir, and I'll send him on for you.'
+
+George was upon his back in a minute, but with all the famed prowess of
+the butcher's boy as a donkey driver, and with all George's renewed
+thumps and kicks, the animal would not move from the spot where he had
+fixed himself. The butcher's boy was quite in a rage, and he was venting
+his spleen upon the stubbornness of all donkeys, and of this donkey in
+particular, when the sudden sound of a horn made both the donkey and the
+pony prick up their ears. In a few moments a stage coach was in sight,
+and in a few more the horn and the rattling wheels approached with great
+velocity towards the two equestrians. George would have jumped off to
+save himself from being run over, but the donkey saved him for the
+present the trouble. All his energies were suddenly roused, and he
+darted forward in a pelting gallop; the butcher's pony did the same.
+Away they both flew before the leaders of the stage, scarcely distancing
+them by a horse's length, and all the passengers thought that mischief
+was inevitable. A gentleman on the box begged the coachman to pull in,
+but the coachman seemed to enjoy the fun, and only whipped on his
+horses. The pony and the donkey were still galloping furiously, both
+their riders keeping their seats. Butchers' boys always seem glued to
+their saddles, so that there appeared nothing astonishing in Jem
+Rattle's not getting a fall; but how George, without his saddle, and not
+much accustomed to riding, sat so long was something more remarkable.
+Whether he might have got to the end of his race without accident if his
+father and mother had not now appeared by the side of the road it is
+impossible to say; but certain it is that the sight of them diverted the
+attention which had before been entirely given to keeping his eye
+steadily before him. At the same instant the donkey gave a little curve
+out of the line in which he had been going, and most providential was it
+that he did so, for by this inclination George was thrown sufficiently
+to the right of the road to clear the wheels of the coach. The pony had
+given in some few minutes before, and the donkey, having once checked
+himself, stopped suddenly, and stood quietly by the roadside as if
+nothing had happened. The gentleman on the box now insisted upon the
+coachman's drawing up, to see if the young gentleman had sustained any
+injury; and Mr. and Mrs. Danvers, in a state of harassing alarm, also
+hastened to approach the spot.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Danvers were more alarmed than George was hurt; he
+certainly got a few bruises, but he received no serious injury. He
+immediately jumped on his legs, and relieved the anxiety of his parents,
+when, after Mr. Danvers had thanked the gentleman for his kind
+interference, and joined with him in condemning the coachman for not
+having before checked his horses, the coach drove on, and George joined
+his father and mother. The butcher boy was commissioned, with the
+promise of a shilling, to bring back the donkey to Mr. Danvers' field,
+and George looked not a little foolish as he began his walk home by the
+side of his father.
+
+'I thought you had been remaining quietly at home, George,' said Mrs.
+Danvers.
+
+'And certainly, if you had been out,' added Mr. Danvers, 'you had no
+business to have been riding that donkey. You must have heard me say
+that it was not fit to be ridden, for it is always playing tricks of
+some sort. And you may be very thankful that you did not get either a
+broken limb or a severe blow on your head.'
+
+George made no reply, but he burst into tears, for his ill-humour had
+now entirely given way to sorrow; and he continued crying as he walked
+by the side of his father.
+
+'I am afraid you have too much indulgence,' said Mr. Danvers, 'and too
+much liberty in disposing of your time; you are not the happier for it,
+you see. When left to yourself to amuse yourself as you please the whole
+day, you almost constantly get into some trouble or other before the day
+is over. In future I shall take care that your time is better employed
+than in riding races with butchers' boys, and trying to tame
+incorrigible donkeys.'
+
+Here George tried to put his father right as to his riding with the
+butcher's boy being entirely accidental; but his sobs prevented his
+speaking articulately, and they had nearly arrived at home before Mr.
+and Mrs. Danvers could exactly understand how the accident had happened.
+
+'And how came Fletcher by his black eye?' said Mr. Danvers.
+
+'Oh, that was done in a passion,' replied George. 'I was tired before I
+began to play, and I did not like to be beat by a boy so near my own
+size.'
+
+'And how would you have felt,' said Mr. Danvers, 'had you deprived your
+companion of the sight of his eye, which was very near being the case?
+Accidents of this sort have sometimes happened from cricket-balls; but
+this, instead of accidental, would have been the consequence of pettish
+ill-humour. I shall allow no more cricket for some days; indeed, I fear
+it will be some days before Fletcher will be well enough to play; and
+certainly I shall allow no more whole days of play.'
+
+'I wish you would not, father,' said George, 'for they always end
+unhappily; and you have not heard all the unhappiness of this.'
+
+George was endeavouring to commence his relation of the broken vase,
+when the lads from the cricket-field, who had just finished their game,
+approached to bid Mr. and Mrs. Danvers a good-morning, and inquire of
+their young companion why he and Tom Fletcher had not again joined them.
+In pity to the confusion visibly stamped on George's countenance, Mr.
+Danvers undertook to explain the cause of their absence, and begged that
+they themselves would come, whenever it was pleasant to them, to play in
+his field. As to Tom, he thought he would not be able to play again
+within a week; but on that day se'nnight, if his eye was well enough to
+allow of his playing, Mr. Danvers would himself take a part in the game,
+and he invited all the party to take tea and refreshments after its
+conclusion. The boys seemed delighted with this proposition, and took
+their leave, when George accompanied his father and mother into the
+house, where they were joined by little Ellen. The accident of the
+broken vase was related, at which Mrs. Danvers expressed great regret;
+but her vexation was accompanied with the pleasing reflection that the
+word of her children might be taken without scruple, for the
+good-natured Ann was not easy till she had informed her mistress of all
+that she knew respecting the accident.
+
+From this day, Ellen never wished that she was a boy to do nothing but
+play from morning till night. She saw, in the example of her brother
+George, that idleness generally leads to mischief, and consequently to
+unhappiness; and she felt how necessary it was to have performed her
+duty well before she could enjoy her play.
+
+
+
+
+Waste Not, Want Not
+
+or
+
+Two Strings to Your Bow
+
+
+Mr. Gresham, a Bristol merchant, who had, by honourable industry and
+economy, accumulated a considerable fortune, retired from business to a
+new house which he had built upon the Downs, near Clifton. Mr. Gresham,
+however, did not imagine that a new house alone could make him happy. He
+did not propose to live in idleness and extravagance; for such a life
+would have been equally incompatible with his habits and his principles.
+He was fond of children; and as he had no sons, he determined to adopt
+one of his relations. He had two nephews, and he invited both of them to
+his house, that he might have an opportunity of judging of their
+dispositions, and of the habits which they had acquired.
+
+Hal and Benjamin, Mr. Gresham's nephews, were about ten years old. They
+had been educated very differently. Hal was the son of the elder branch
+of the family. His father was a gentleman, who spent rather more than
+he could afford; and Hal, from the example of the servants in his
+father's family, with whom he had passed the first years of his
+childhood, learned to waste more of everything than he used. He had been
+told that 'gentlemen should be above being careful and saving'; and he
+had unfortunately imbibed a notion that extravagance was the sign of a
+generous disposition, and economy of an avaricious one.
+
+Benjamin, on the contrary, had been taught habits of care and foresight.
+His father had but a very small fortune, and was anxious that his son
+should early learn that economy ensures independence, and sometimes puts
+it in the power of those who are not very rich to be very generous.
+
+The morning after these two boys arrived at their uncle's they were
+eager to see all the rooms in the house. Mr. Gresham accompanied them,
+and attended to their remarks and exclamations.
+
+'Oh, what an excellent motto!' exclaimed Ben, when he read the following
+words, which were written in large characters over the chimneypiece in
+his uncle's spacious kitchen--
+
+    'WASTE NOT, WANT NOT.'
+
+'"Waste not, want not!"' repeated his cousin Hal, in rather a
+contemptuous tone; 'I think it looks stingy to servants; and no
+gentleman's servants, cooks especially, would like to have such a mean
+motto always staring them in the face.'
+
+Ben, who was not so conversant as his cousin in the ways of cooks and
+gentleman's servants, made no reply to these observations.
+
+Mr. Gresham was called away whilst his nephews were looking at the other
+rooms in the house. Some time afterwards he heard their voices in the
+hall.
+
+'Boys,' said he, 'what are you doing there?'
+
+'Nothing, sir,' said Hal. 'You were called away from us, and we did not
+know which way to go.'
+
+'And have you nothing to do?' said Mr. Gresham.
+
+'No, sir--nothing,' answered Hal in a careless tone, like one who was
+well content with the state of habitual idleness.
+
+'No, sir--nothing,' replied Ben, in a voice of lamentation.
+
+'Come,' said Mr. Gresham, 'if you have nothing to do, lads, will you
+unpack those two parcels for me?'
+
+The two parcels were exactly alike, both of them well tied up with good
+whipcord. Ben took his parcel to a table, and, after breaking off the
+sealing-wax, began carefully to examine the knot, and then to untie it.
+Hal stood still, exactly in the spot where the parcel was put into his
+hands, and tried, first at one corner and then at another, to pull the
+string off by force.
+
+'I wish these people wouldn't tie up their parcels so tight, as if they
+were never to be undone!' cried he, as he tugged at the cord; and he
+pulled the knot closer instead of loosening it. 'Ben! why, how did you
+get yours undone, man? What's in your parcel? I wonder what is in mine.
+I wish I could get this string off. I must cut it.'
+
+'Oh no,' said Ben, who now had undone the last knot of his parcel, and
+who drew out the length of string with exultation, 'don't cut it, Hal.
+Look what a nice cord this is, and yours is the same. It's a pity to cut
+it. "_Waste not, want not!_" you know.'
+
+'Pooh!' said Hal, 'what signifies a bit of packthread?'
+
+'It is whipcord,' said Ben.
+
+[Illustration: _'Oh, what an excellent motto!' exclaimed Ben.--Page
+205._]
+
+'Well, whipcord. What signifies a bit of whipcord? You can get a bit of
+whipcord twice as long as that for twopence, and who cares for twopence?
+Not I, for one! So here it goes,' cried Hal, drawing out his knife; and
+he cut the cord precipitately in sundry places.
+
+'Lads, have you undone the parcels for me?' said Mr. Gresham, opening
+the parlour door as he spoke.
+
+'Yes, sir,' cried Hal; and he dragged off his half-cut, half-entangled
+string. 'Here's the parcel.'
+
+'And here's my parcel, uncle; and here's the string,' said Ben.
+
+'You may keep the string for your pains,' said Mr. Gresham.
+
+'Thank you, sir,' said Ben. 'What an excellent whipcord it is!'
+
+'And you, Hal,' continued Mr. Gresham--'you may keep your string, too,
+if it will be of any use to you.'
+
+'It will be of no use to me, thank you, sir,' said Hal.
+
+'No, I am afraid not, if this be it,' said his uncle, taking up the
+jagged knotted remains of Hal's cord.
+
+A few days after this Mr. Gresham gave to each of his nephews a new top.
+
+'But how's this?' said Hal. 'These tops have no strings. What shall we
+do for strings?'
+
+'I have a string that will do very well for mine,' said Ben; and he
+pulled out of his pocket the fine, long, smooth string which had tied up
+the parcel.
+
+With this he soon set up his top, which spun admirably well.
+
+'Oh, how I wish I had but a string!' said Hal. 'What shall I do for a
+string? I'll tell you what: I can use the string that goes round my
+hat!'
+
+'But, then,' said Ben, 'what will you do for a hatband?'
+
+'I'll manage to do without one,' said Hal, and he took the string off
+his hat for his top.
+
+It was soon worn through, and he split his top by driving the peg too
+tightly into it. His Cousin Ben let him set up his the next day, but Hal
+was not more fortunate or more careful when he meddled with other
+people's things than when he managed his own. He had scarcely played
+half an hour before he split it by driving the peg too violently.
+
+Ben bore this misfortune with good-humour.
+
+'Come,' said he, 'it can't be helped; but give me the string, because
+_that_ may still be of use for something else.'
+
+It happened some time afterwards that a lady, who had been intimately
+acquainted with Hal's mother at Bath--that is to say, who had frequently
+met her at the card-table during the winter--now arrived at Clifton. She
+was informed by his mother that Hal was at Mr. Gresham's, and her sons,
+who were _friends_ of his, came to see him, and invited him to spend the
+next day with them.
+
+Hal joyfully accepted the invitation. He was always glad to go out to
+dine, because it gave him something to do, something to think of, or at
+least something to say. Besides this, he had been educated to think it
+was a fine thing to visit fine people; and Lady Diana Sweepstakes (for
+that was the name of his mother's acquaintance) was a very fine lady,
+and her two sons intended to be very _great_ gentlemen. He was in a
+prodigious hurry when these young gentlemen knocked at his uncle's door
+the next day; but just as he got to the hall door little Patty called to
+him from the top of the stairs, and told him that he had dropped his
+pocket-handkerchief.
+
+'Pick it up, then, and bring it to me, quick, can't you, child?' cried
+Hal, 'for Lady Di's sons are waiting for me.'
+
+Little Patty did not know anything about Lady Di's sons; but as she was
+very good-natured, and saw that her cousin Hal was, for some reason or
+other, in a desperate hurry, she ran downstairs as fast as she possibly
+could towards the landing-place, where the handkerchief lay; but, alas!
+before she reached the handkerchief, she fell, rolling down a whole
+flight of stairs, and when her fall was at last stopped by the
+landing-place, she did not cry out; she writhed, as if she was in great
+pain.
+
+'Where are you hurt, my love?' said Mr. Gresham, who came instantly on
+hearing the noise of someone falling downstairs. 'Where are you hurt, my
+dear?'
+
+'Here, papa,' said the little girl, touching her ankle, which she had
+decently covered with her gown. 'I believe I am hurt here, but not
+much,' added she, trying to rise; 'only it hurts me when I move.'
+
+'I'll carry you; don't move, then,' said her father, and he took her up
+in his arms.
+
+'My shoe! I've lost one of my shoes,' said she.
+
+Ben looked for it upon the stairs, and he found it sticking in a loop of
+whipcord, which was entangled round one of the banisters. When this cord
+was drawn forth, it appeared that it was the very same jagged, entangled
+piece which Hal had pulled off his parcel. He had diverted himself with
+running up and down stairs, whipping the banisters with it, as he
+thought he could convert it to no better use; and, with his usual
+carelessness, he at last left it hanging just where he happened to throw
+it when the dinner-bell rang. Poor little Patty's ankle was terribly
+strained, and Hal reproached himself for his folly, and would have
+reproached himself longer, perhaps, if Lady Di Sweepstakes' sons had not
+hurried him away.
+
+In the evening, Patty could not run about as she used to do; but she sat
+upon the sofa, and she said that she did not feel the pain of her ankle
+_so much_ whilst Ben was so good as to play at _Jack Straws_ with her.
+
+'That's right, Ben; never be ashamed of being good-natured to those who
+are younger and weaker than yourself,' said his uncle, smiling at seeing
+him produce his whipcord to indulge his little cousin with a game at her
+favourite cat's-cradle. 'I shall not think you one bit less manly,
+because I see you playing at cat's-cradle with a little child of six
+years old.'
+
+Hal, however, was not precisely of his uncle's opinion; for when he
+returned in the evening, and saw Ben playing with his little cousin, he
+could not help smiling contemptuously, and asked if he had been playing
+at cat's-cradle all night. In a heedless manner he made some inquiries
+after Patty's sprained ankle, and then he ran on to tell all the news he
+had heard at Lady Diana Sweepstakes'--news which he thought would make
+him appear a person of vast importance.
+
+'Do you know, uncle--do you know, Ben,' said he, 'there's to be the most
+_famous_ doings that ever were heard of upon the Downs here, the first
+day of next month, which will be in a fortnight, thank my stars? I wish
+the fortnight was over. I shall think of nothing else, I know, till that
+happy day comes.'
+
+Mr. Gresham inquired why the first of September was to be so much
+happier than any other day in the year.
+
+'Why,' replied Hal, 'Lady Diana Sweepstakes, you know, is a _famous_
+rider, and archer, and _all that_----'
+
+'Very likely,' said Mr. Gresham soberly; 'but what then?'
+
+'Dear uncle,' cried Hal, 'but you shall hear! There's to be a race upon
+the Downs on the first of September, and after the race there's to be an
+archery meeting for the ladies, and Lady Diana Sweepstakes is to be one
+of _them_. And after the ladies have done shooting--now, Ben, comes the
+best part of it!--we boys are to have our turn, and Lady Di is to give a
+prize to the best marksman amongst us of a very handsome bow and arrow.
+Do you know, I've been practising already, and I'll show you to-morrow,
+as soon as it comes home, the _famous_ bow and arrow that Lady Diana has
+given me; but perhaps,' added he, with a scornful laugh, 'you like a
+cat's-cradle better than a bow and arrow.'
+
+Ben made no reply to this taunt at the moment; but the next day, when
+Hal's new bow and arrow came home, he convinced him that he knew how to
+use it very well.
+
+'Ben,' said his uncle, 'you seem to be a good marksman, though you have
+not boasted of yourself. I'll give you a bow and arrow, and perhaps, if
+you practise, you may make yourself an archer before the first of
+September; and, in the meantime, you will not wish the fortnight to be
+over, for you will have something to do.'
+
+'Oh, sir,' interrupted Hal, 'but if you mean that Ben should put in for
+the prize, he must have a uniform.'
+
+'Why _must_ he?' said Mr. Gresham.
+
+'Why, sir, because everybody has--I mean everybody that's anybody; and
+Lady Diana was talking about the uniform all dinner time, and it's
+settled, all about it, except the buttons. The young Sweepstakes are to
+get theirs made first for patterns. They are to be white, faced with
+green, and they'll look very handsome, I'm sure; and I shall write to
+mother to-night, as Lady Diana bid me, about mine, and I shall tell her
+to be sure to answer my letter without fail by return of post; and then,
+if mother makes no objection--which I know she won't, because she never
+thinks much about expense, and _all that_--then I shall bespeak my
+uniform, and get it made by the same tailor that makes for Lady Diana
+and the young Sweepstakes.'
+
+'Mercy upon us!' said Mr. Gresham, who was almost stunned by the rapid
+vociferation with which this long speech about a uniform was pronounced.
+'I don't pretend to understand these things,' added he, with an air of
+simplicity, 'but we will inquire, Ben, into the necessity of the case;
+and if it is necessary--or if you think it necessary that you shall have
+a uniform--why, I'll give you one.'
+
+'_You_, uncle? Will you, _indeed_?' exclaimed Hal, with amazement
+painted in his countenance. 'Well, that's the last thing in the world I
+should have expected! You are not at all the sort of person I should
+have thought would care about a uniform; and now I should have supposed
+you'd have thought it extravagant to have a coat on purpose only for one
+day. And I'm sure Lady Diana Sweepstakes thought as I do, for when I
+told her of that motto over your kitchen chimney--"WASTE NOT, WANT
+NOT"--she laughed, and said that I had better not talk to you about
+uniforms, and that my mother was the proper person to write to about my
+uniform; but I'll tell Lady Diana, uncle, how good you are, and how much
+she was mistaken.'
+
+'Take care how you do that,' said Mr. Gresham, 'for perhaps the lady was
+not mistaken.'
+
+'Nay, did not you say just now you would give poor Ben a uniform?'
+
+'I said I would if he thought it necessary to have one.'
+
+'Oh, I'll answer for it he'll think it necessary,' said Hal, laughing,
+'because it is necessary.'
+
+'Allow him, at least, to judge for himself,' said Mr. Gresham.
+
+'My dear uncle, but I assure you,' said Hal earnestly, 'there's no
+judging about the matter, because really, upon my word, Lady Diana said
+distinctly that her sons were to have uniforms--white, faced with
+green--and a green and white cockade in their hats.'
+
+'May be so,' said Mr. Gresham, still with the same look of calm
+simplicity. 'Put on your hats, boys, and come with me. I know a
+gentleman whose sons are to be at this archery meeting, and we will
+inquire into all the particulars from him. Then, after we have seen
+him--it is not eleven o'clock yet--we shall have time enough to walk on
+to Bristol, and choose the cloth for Ben's uniform if it is necessary.'
+
+'I cannot tell what to make of all he says,' whispered Hal, as he
+reached down his hat. 'Do you think, Ben, he means to give you this
+uniform or not?'
+
+'I think,' said Ben, 'that he means to give me one if it is necessary;
+or, as he said, if I think it is necessary.'
+
+'And that to be sure you will, won't you? or else you'll be a great
+fool, I know, after all I've told you. How can anyone in the world know
+so much about the matter as I, who have dined with Lady Diana
+Sweepstakes but yesterday, and heard all about it from beginning to end?
+And as for this gentleman that we are going to, I'm sure, if he knows
+anything about the matter, he'll say exactly the same as I do.'
+
+'We shall hear,' said Ben, with a degree of composure which Hal could by
+no means comprehend when a uniform was in question.
+
+The gentleman upon whom Mr. Gresham called had three sons who were all
+to be at this archery meeting, and they unanimously assured him, in the
+presence of Hal and Ben, that they had not thought of buying uniforms
+for this grand occasion, and that, amongst the number of their
+acquaintance, they knew of but three boys whose friends intended to be
+at such an _unnecessary_ expense. Hal stood amazed.
+
+'Such are the varieties of opinion upon all the grand affairs of life,'
+said Mr. Gresham, looking at his nephews. 'What amongst one set of
+people you hear asserted to be absolutely necessary, you will hear from
+another set of people is quite unnecessary. All that can be done, my
+dear boys, in these difficult cases, is to judge for yourselves which
+opinions and which people are the most reasonable.'
+
+Hal, who had been more accustomed to think of what was fashionable than
+of what was reasonable, without at all considering the good sense of
+what his uncle said to him, replied with childish petulance:
+
+'Indeed, sir, I don't know what other people think; but I only know what
+Lady Diana Sweepstakes said.'
+
+The name of Lady Diana Sweepstakes, Hal thought, must impress all
+present with respect. He was highly astonished when, as he looked round,
+he saw a smile of contempt upon everyone's countenance; and he was yet
+further bewildered when he heard her spoken of as a very silly,
+extravagant, ridiculous woman, whose opinion no prudent person would ask
+upon any subject, and whose example was to be shunned instead of being
+imitated.
+
+'Ay, my dear Hal,' said his uncle, smiling at his look of amazement,
+'these are some of the things that young people must learn from
+experience. All the world do not agree in opinion about characters. You
+will hear the same person admired in one company and blamed in another;
+so that we must still come round to the same point--_Judge for
+yourself_.'
+
+Hal's thoughts were, however, at present too full of the uniform to
+allow his judgment to act with perfect impartiality. As soon as their
+visit was over, and all the time they walked down the hill from
+Prince's Buildings towards Bristol, he continued to repeat nearly the
+same arguments which he had formerly used respecting necessity, the
+uniform, and Lady Diana Sweepstakes. To all this Mr. Gresham made no
+reply, and longer had the young gentleman expatiated upon the subject,
+which had so strongly seized upon his imagination, had not his senses
+been forcibly assailed at this instant by the delicious odours and
+tempting sight of certain cakes and jellies in a pastrycook's shop.
+
+'Oh, uncle,' said he, as his uncle was going to turn the corner to
+pursue the road to Bristol, 'look at those jellies!' pointing to a
+confectioner's shop. 'I must buy some of those good things, for I have
+got some halfpence in my pocket.'
+
+'Your having halfpence in your pocket is an excellent reason for
+eating,' said Mr. Gresham, smiling.
+
+'But I really am hungry,' said Hal. 'You know, uncle, it is a good while
+since breakfast.'
+
+His uncle, who was desirous to see his nephews act without restraint,
+that he might judge their characters, bid them do as they pleased.
+
+'Come, then, Ben, if you've any halfpence in your pocket.'
+
+'I'm not hungry,' said Ben.
+
+'I suppose _that_ means that you've no halfpence,' said Hal, laughing,
+with the look of superiority which he had been taught to think _the
+rich_ might assume towards those who were convicted either of poverty or
+economy.
+
+'Waste not, want not,' said Ben to himself.
+
+Contrary to his cousin's surmise, he happened to have two pennyworth of
+halfpence actually in his pocket.
+
+At the very moment Hal stepped into the pastrycook's shop a poor,
+industrious man with a wooden leg, who usually sweeps the dirty corner
+of the walk which turns at this spot to the Wells, held his hat to Ben,
+who, after glancing his eye at the petitioner's well-worn broom,
+instantly produced his twopence.
+
+'I wish I had more halfpence for you, my good man,' said he; 'but I've
+only twopence.'
+
+Hal came out of Mr. Millar's, the confectioner's shop, with a hatful of
+cakes in his hand. Mr. Millar's dog was sitting on the flags before the
+door, and he looked up with a wistful, begging eye at Hal, who was
+eating a queen-cake. Hal, who was wasteful even in his good-nature,
+threw a whole queen-cake to the dog, who swallowed it at a single
+mouthful.
+
+'There goes twopence in the form of a queen-cake,' said Mr. Gresham.
+
+Hal next offered some of his cakes to his uncle and cousin; but they
+thanked him, and refused to eat any, because, they said, they were not
+hungry; so he ate and ate as he walked along, till at last he stopped
+and said:
+
+'This bun tastes so bad after the queen-cakes, I can't bear it!' and he
+was going to fling it from him into the river.
+
+'Oh, it is a pity to waste that good bun; we may be glad of it yet,'
+said Ben. 'Give it me rather than throw it away.'
+
+'Why, I thought you said you were not hungry,' said Hal.
+
+'True, I am not hungry now; but that is no reason why I should never be
+hungry again.'
+
+'Well, there is the cake for you. Take it, for it has made me sick, and
+I don't care what becomes of it.'
+
+Ben folded the refuse bit of his cousin's bun in a piece of paper, and
+put it into his pocket.
+
+'I'm beginning to be exceeding tired or sick or something,' said Hal;
+'and as there is a stand of coaches somewhere hereabouts, had we not
+better take a coach, instead of walking all the way to Bristol?'
+
+'For a stout archer,' said Mr. Gresham, 'you are more easily tired than
+one might have expected. However, with all my heart, let us take a
+coach, for Ben asked me to show him the cathedral yesterday; and I
+believe I should find it rather too much for me to walk so far, though I
+am not sick with eating good things.'
+
+'_The cathedral!_' said Hal, after he had been seated in the coach about
+a quarter of an hour, and had somewhat recovered from his sickness--'the
+cathedral! Why, are we only going to Bristol to see the cathedral? I
+thought we came out to see about a uniform.'
+
+There was a dulness and melancholy kind of stupidity in Hal's
+countenance as he pronounced these words, like one wakening from a
+dream, which made both his uncle and his cousin burst out a-laughing.
+
+'Why,' said Hal, who was now piqued, 'I'm sure you _did_ say, uncle, you
+would go to Mr. Hall's to choose the cloth for the uniform.'
+
+'Very true, and so I will,' said Mr. Gresham; 'but we need not make a
+whole morning's work, need we, of looking at a piece of cloth? Cannot we
+see a uniform and a cathedral both in one morning?'
+
+They went first to the cathedral. Hal's head was too full of the uniform
+to take any notice of the painted window, which immediately caught Ben's
+embarrassed attention. He looked at the large stained figures on the
+Gothic window, and he observed their coloured shadows on the floor and
+walls.
+
+Mr. Gresham, who perceived that he was eager on all subjects to gain
+information, took this opportunity of telling him several things about
+the lost art of painting on glass, Gothic arches, etc., which Hal
+thought extremely tiresome.
+
+'Come, come, we shall be late indeed!' said Hal. 'Surely you've looked
+long enough, Ben, at this blue and red window.'
+
+'I'm only thinking about these coloured shadows,' said Ben.
+
+'I can show you when we go home, Ben,' said his uncle, 'an entertaining
+paper upon such shadows.'[A]
+
+'Hark!' cried Ben; 'did you hear that noise?'
+
+They all listened, and they heard a bird singing in the cathedral.
+
+'It's our old robin, sir,' said the lad who had opened the cathedral
+door for them.
+
+'Yes,' said Mr. Gresham, 'there he is, boys--look--perched upon the
+organ; he often sits there, and sings whilst the organ is playing.'
+
+'And,' continued the lad who showed the cathedral, 'he has lived here
+these many, many winters. They say he is fifteen years old; and he is so
+tame, poor fellow! that if I had a bit of bread he'd come down and feed
+in my hand.'
+
+'I've a bit of bun here,' cried Ben joyfully, producing the remains of
+the bun which Hal but an hour before would have thrown away. 'Pray, let
+us see the poor robin eat out of your hand.'
+
+The lad crumbled the bun and called to the robin, who fluttered and
+chirped and seemed rejoiced at the sight of the bread; but yet he did
+not come down from his pinnacle on the organ.
+
+'He is afraid of _us_,' said Ben; 'he is not used to eat before
+strangers, I suppose.'
+
+'Ah, no, sir,' said the young man, with a deep sigh, 'that is not the
+thing. He is used enough to eat afore company. Time was he'd have come
+down for me before ever so many fine folks, and have eat his crumbs out
+of my hand at my first call; but, poor fellow! it's not his fault now.
+He does not know me now, sir, since my _accident_, because of this great
+black patch.'
+
+The young man put his hand to his right eye, which was covered with a
+huge black patch. Ben asked what _accident_ he meant; and the lad told
+him that, but a few weeks ago, he had lost the sight of his eye by the
+stroke of a stone, which reached him as he was passing under the rocks
+at Clifton, unluckily when the workmen were blasting.
+
+'I don't mind so much for myself, sir,' said the lad; 'but I can't work
+so well now, as I used to do before my accident, for my old mother, who
+has had a _stroke_ of the palsy; and I've a many little brothers and
+sisters not well able yet to get their own livelihood, though they be as
+willing as willing can be.'
+
+'Where does your mother live?' said Mr. Gresham.
+
+'Hard by, sir, just close to the church here. It was _her_ that always
+had the showing of it to strangers, till she lost the use of her poor
+limbs.'
+
+'Shall we, may we, uncle, go that way? This is the house, is it not?'
+said Ben, when they went out of the cathedral.
+
+They went into the house. It was rather a hovel than a house; but, poor
+as it was, it was as neat as misery could make it. The old woman was
+sitting up in her wretched bed, winding worsted; four meagre,
+ill-clothed, pale children were all busy, some of them sticking pins in
+paper for the pin-maker, and others sorting rags for the paper-maker.
+
+'What a horrid place it is!' said Hal, sighing; 'I did not know there
+were such shocking places in the world. I've often seen
+terrible-looking, tumble-down places, as we drove through the town in
+mother's carriage; but then I did not know who lived in them, and I
+never saw the inside of any of them. It is very dreadful, indeed, to
+think that people are forced to live in this way. I wish mother would
+send me some more pocket-money, that I might do something for them. I
+had half a crown; but,' continued he, feeling in his pockets, 'I'm
+afraid I spent the last shilling of it this morning upon those cakes
+that made me sick. I wish I had my shilling now; I'd give it to _these
+poor people_.'
+
+Ben, though he was all this time silent, was as sorry as his talkative
+cousin for all these poor people. But there was some difference between
+the sorrow of these two boys.
+
+Hal, after he was again seated in the hackney-coach, and had rattled
+through the busy streets of Bristol for a few minutes, quite forgot the
+spectacle of misery which he had seen, and the gay shops in Wine Street
+and the idea of his green and white uniform wholly occupied his
+imagination.
+
+'Now for our uniforms!' cried he, as he jumped eagerly out of the coach,
+when his uncle stopped at the woollen-draper's door.
+
+'Uncle,' said Ben, stopping Mr. Gresham before he got out of the
+carriage, 'I don't think a uniform is at all necessary for me. I'm very
+much obliged to you, but I would rather not have one. I have a very good
+coat, and I think it would be waste.'
+
+'Well, let me get out of the carriage, and we will see about it,' said
+Mr. Gresham. 'Perhaps the sight of the beautiful green and white cloth,
+and the epaulette--have you ever considered the epaulettes?--may tempt
+you to change your mind.'
+
+'Oh, no,' said Ben, laughing; 'I shall not change my mind.'
+
+The green cloth and the white cloth and the epaulettes were produced, to
+Hal's infinite satisfaction. His uncle took up a pen, and calculated for
+a few minutes. Then showing the back of the letter upon which he was
+writing to his nephews:
+
+'Cast up these sums, boys,' said he, 'and tell me whether I am right.'
+
+'Ben, do you do it,' said Hal, a little embarrassed; 'I am not quick at
+figures.'
+
+Ben _was_, and he went over his uncle's calculation very expeditiously.
+
+'It is right, is it?' said Mr. Gresham.
+
+'Yes, sir, quite right.'
+
+'Then, by this calculation I find I could, for less than half the money
+your uniforms would cost, purchase for each of you boys a warm
+greatcoat, which you will want, I have a notion, this winter upon the
+downs.'
+
+'Oh, sir,' said Hal with an alarmed look, 'but it is not winter _yet_;
+it is not cold weather _yet_. We shan't want greatcoats _yet_.'
+
+'Don't you remember how cold we were, Hal, the day before yesterday, in
+that sharp wind, when we were flying our kite upon the downs? and winter
+will come, though it is not come yet. I am sure I should like to have a
+good warm greatcoat very much.'
+
+Mr. Gresham took six guineas out of his purse; and he placed three of
+them before Hal and three before Ben.
+
+'Young gentlemen,' said he, 'I believe your uniforms would come to about
+three guineas apiece. Now I will lay out this money for you just as you
+please. Hal, what say you?'
+
+'Why, sir,' said Hal, 'a greatcoat is a good thing, to be sure; and
+then, after the greatcoat, as you said it would only cost half as much
+as the uniform, there would be some money to spare, would not there?'
+
+'Yes, my dear, about five-and-twenty shillings.'
+
+'Five-and-twenty shillings? I could buy and do a great many things, to
+be sure, with five-and-twenty shillings; but then, _the thing is_, I
+must go without the uniform if I have the greatcoat.'
+
+'Certainly,' said his uncle.
+
+'Ah!' said Hal, sighing, as he looked at the epaulette, 'uncle, if you
+would not be displeased if I choose the uniform----'
+
+'I shall not be displeased at your choosing whatever you like best,'
+said Mr. Gresham.
+
+'Well, then, thank you, sir,' said Hal, 'I think I had better have the
+uniform, because, if I have not the uniform now directly, it will be of
+no use to me, as the archery meeting is the week after next, you know;
+and as to the greatcoat, perhaps between this time and the very cold
+weather, which perhaps won't be till Christmas, father will buy a
+greatcoat for me; and I'll ask mother to give me some pocket-money to
+give away, and she will, perhaps.'
+
+To all this conclusive, conditional reasoning, which depended upon the
+word _perhaps_, three times repeated, Mr. Gresham made no reply; but he
+immediately bought the uniform for Hal, and desired that it should be
+sent to Lady Diana Sweepstakes' sons' tailor to be made up. The measure
+of Hal's happiness was now complete.
+
+'And how am I to lay out the three guineas for you, Ben?' said Mr.
+Gresham. 'Speak; what do you wish for first?'
+
+'A greatcoat, uncle, if you please.'
+
+Mr. Gresham bought the coat, and after it was paid for five-and-twenty
+shillings of Ben's three guineas remained.
+
+'What next, my boy?' said his uncle.
+
+'Arrows, uncle, if you please--three arrows.'
+
+'My dear, I promised you a bow and arrows.'
+
+'No, uncle, you only said a bow.'
+
+'Well, I meant a bow and arrows. I'm glad you are so exact, however. It
+is better to claim less than more than what is promised. The three
+arrows you shall have. But go on. How shall I dispose of these
+five-and-twenty shillings for you?'
+
+'In clothes, if you will be so good, uncle, for that poor boy who has
+the great black patch on his eye.'
+
+'I always believed,' said Mr. Gresham, shaking hands with Ben, 'that
+economy and generosity were the best friends, instead of being enemies,
+as some silly, extravagant people would have us think them. Choose the
+poor, blind boy's coat, my dear nephew, and pay for it. There's no
+occasion for my praising you about the matter. Your best reward is in
+your own mind, child; and you want no other, or I'm mistaken. Now jump
+into the coach, boys, and let's be off. We shall be late, I'm afraid,'
+continued he, as the coach drove on; 'but I must let you stop, Ben, with
+your goods, at the poor boy's door.'
+
+When they came to the house, Mr. Gresham opened the coach door, and Ben
+jumped out with his parcel under his arm.
+
+'Stay, stay! you must take me with you,' said his pleased uncle; 'I like
+to see people made happy as well as you do.'
+
+'And so do I, too,' said Hal. 'Let me come with you. I almost wish my
+uniform was not gone to the tailor's, so I do.' And when he saw the look
+of delight and gratitude with which the poor boy received the clothes
+which Ben gave him, and when he heard the mother and children thank him,
+Hal sighed, and said: 'Well, I hope mother will give me some more
+pocket-money soon.'
+
+Upon his return home, however, the sight of the _famous_ bow and arrow,
+which Lady Diana Sweepstakes had sent him, recalled to his imagination
+all the joys of his green-and-white uniform, and he no longer wished
+that it had not been sent to the tailor's.
+
+'But I don't understand, Cousin Hal,' said little Patty, 'why you call
+this bow a _famous_ bow. You say _famous_ very often, and I don't know
+exactly what it means--a _famous_ uniform, _famous_ doings. I remember
+you said there are to be _famous_ doings, the first of September, upon
+the Downs. What does _famous_ mean?'
+
+'Oh, why _famous_ means--now, don't you know what _famous_ means? It
+means--it is a word that people say--it is the fashion to say it--it
+means--it means _famous_.'
+
+Patty laughed, and said:
+
+'_This_ does not explain it to me.'
+
+'No,' said Hal, 'nor can it be explained. If you don't understand it,
+that's not my fault. Everybody but little children, I suppose,
+understands it; but there's no explaining _those sort_ of words, if you
+don't _take them_ at once. There's to be _famous_ doings upon the Downs,
+the first of September--that is grand, fine. In short, what does it
+signify talking any longer, Patty, about the matter? Give me my bow, for
+I must go out upon the Downs and practise.'
+
+Ben accompanied him with the bow and the three arrows which his uncle
+had now given to him, and every day these two boys went out upon the
+Downs and practised shooting with indefatigable perseverance. Where
+equal pains are taken, success is usually found to be pretty nearly
+equal. Our two archers, by constant practice, became expert marksmen;
+and before the day of trial they were so exactly matched in point of
+dexterity that it was scarcely possible to decide which was superior.
+
+The long-expected first of September at length arrived. 'What sort of a
+day is it?' was the first question that was asked by Hal and Ben the
+moment that they awakened. The sun shone bright, but there was a sharp
+and high wind.
+
+'Ha!' said Ben, 'I shall be glad of my good greatcoat to-day, for I've a
+notion it will be rather cold upon the Downs, especially when we are
+standing still, as we must, whilst all the people are shooting.'
+
+'Oh, never mind. I don't think I shall feel it cold at all,' said Hal,
+as he dressed himself in his new green-and-white uniform; and he viewed
+himself with much complacency. 'Good-morning to you, uncle. How do you
+do?' said he, in a voice of exultation, when he entered the
+breakfast-room.
+
+'How do you do?' seemed rather to mean, 'How do you like me in my
+uniform?' and his uncle's cool, 'Very well, I thank you, Hal,'
+disappointed him, as it seemed only to say, 'Your uniform makes no
+difference in my opinion of you.'
+
+Even little Patty went on eating her breakfast much as usual, and talked
+of the pleasure of walking with her father to the Downs, and of all the
+little things which interested her, so that Hal's epaulettes were not
+the principal object in anyone's imagination but his own.
+
+'Father,' said Patty, 'as we go up the hill where there is so much red
+mud I must take care to pick my way nicely, and I must hold up my
+frock, as you desired me, and perhaps you will be so good, if I am not
+troublesome, to lift me over the very bad place where are no
+stepping-stones. My ankle is entirely well, and I'm glad of that, or
+else I should not be able to walk so far as the Downs. How good you were
+to me, Ben, when I was in pain the day I sprained my ankle! You played
+at jack straws and at cat's-cradle with me. Oh, that puts me in mind!
+Here are your gloves which I asked you that night to let me mend. I've
+been a great while about them, but are not they very neatly mended,
+father? Look at the sewing.'
+
+'I am not a very good judge of sewing, my dear little girl,' said Mr.
+Gresham, examining the work with a close and scrupulous eye; 'but, in my
+opinion, here is one stitch that is rather too long. The white teeth are
+not quite even.'
+
+'Oh, father, I'll take out that long tooth in a minute,' said Patty,
+laughing. 'I did not think that you would observe it so soon.'
+
+'I would not have you trust to my blindness,' said her father, stroking
+her head fondly; 'I observe everything. I observe, for instance, that
+you are a grateful little girl, and that you are glad to be of use to
+those who have been kind to you, and for this I forgive you the long
+stitch.'
+
+'But it's out--it's out, father,' said Patty; 'and the next time your
+gloves want mending, Ben, I'll mend them better.'
+
+'They are very nice, I think,' said Ben, drawing them on, 'and I am much
+obliged to you. I was just wishing I had a pair of gloves to keep my
+fingers warm to-day, for I never can shoot well when my hands are
+benumbed. Look, Hal; you know how ragged these gloves were. You said
+they were good for nothing but to throw away. Now look, there's not a
+hole in them,' said he, spreading his fingers.
+
+'Now, is it not very extraordinary,' said Hal to himself, 'that they
+should go on so long talking about an old pair of gloves, without saying
+scarcely a word about my new uniform? Well, the young Sweepstakes and
+Lady Diana will talk enough about it, that's one comfort. Is not it time
+to think of setting out, sir?' said Hal to his uncle. 'The company, you
+know, are to meet at the Ostrich at twelve, and the race to begin at
+one, and Lady Diana's horses, I know, were ordered to be at the door at
+ten.'
+
+Mr. Stephen, the butler, here interrupted the hurrying young gentleman
+in his calculations.
+
+'There's a poor lad, sir, below, with a great black patch on his right
+eye, who is come from Bristol, and wants to speak a word with the young
+_gentlemen_, if you please. I told him they were just going out with
+you, but he says he won't detain them more than half a minute.'
+
+'Show him up--show him up,' said Mr. Gresham.
+
+'But I suppose,' said Hal, with a sigh, 'that Stephen mistook when he
+said the young _gentlemen_. He only wants to see Ben, I dare say. I'm
+sure he has no reason to want to see me. Here he comes. Oh, Ben, he is
+dressed in the new coat you gave him,' whispered Hal, who was really a
+good-natured boy, though extravagant. 'How much better he looks than he
+did in the ragged coat! Ah, he looked at you first, Ben, and well he
+may!'
+
+The boy bowed, without any cringing civility, but with an open, decent
+freedom in his manner, which expressed that he had been obliged, but
+that he knew his young benefactor was not thinking of the obligation.
+He made as little distinction as possible between his bows to the two
+cousins.
+
+'As I was sent with a message by the clerk of our parish to Redland
+Chapel out on the Downs to-day, sir,' said he to Mr. Gresham, 'knowing
+your house lay in my way, my mother, sir, bid me call, and make bold to
+offer the young gentlemen two little worsted balls that she has worked
+for them,' continued the lad, pulling out of his pocket two worsted
+balls worked in green and orange-coloured stripes. 'They are but poor
+things, sir, she bid me say, to look at; but, considering she has but
+one hand to work with, and _that_ her left hand, you'll not despise 'em,
+we hopes.' He held the balls to Ben and Hal. 'They are both alike,
+gentlemen,' said he. 'If you'll be pleased to take 'em. They're better
+than they look, for they bound higher than your head. I cut the cork
+round for the inside myself, which was all I could do.'
+
+'They are nice balls, indeed. We are much obliged to you,' said the boys
+as they received them, and they proved them immediately.
+
+The balls struck the floor with a delightful sound, and rebounded higher
+than Mr. Gresham's head. Little Patty clapped her hands joyfully. But
+now a thundering double rap at the door was heard.
+
+'The Master Sweepstakes, sir,' said Stephen, 'are come for Master Hal.
+They say that all the young gentlemen who have archery uniforms are to
+walk together in a body, I think they say, sir; and they are to parade
+along the Well Walk, they desired me to say, sir, with a drum and fife,
+and so up the hill by Prince's Place, and all to go upon the Downs
+together to the place of meeting. I am not sure I'm right, sir, for both
+the young gentlemen spoke at once, and the wind is very high at the
+street door, so that I could not well make out all they said, but I
+believe this is the sense of it.'
+
+'Yes, yes,' said Hal eagerly, 'it's all right. I know that is just what
+was settled the day I dined at Lady Diana's, and Lady Diana and a great
+party of gentlemen are to ride----'
+
+'Well, that is nothing to the purpose,' interrupted Mr. Gresham. 'Don't
+keep these Master Sweepstakes waiting. Decide. Do you choose to go with
+them or with us?'
+
+'Sir--uncle--sir, you know, since all the _uniforms_ agreed to go
+together----'
+
+'Off with you, then, Mr. Uniform, if you mean to go,' said Mr. Gresham.
+
+Hal ran downstairs in such a hurry that he forgot his bow and arrows.
+Ben discovered this when he went to fetch his own, and the lad from
+Bristol, who had been ordered by Mr. Gresham to eat his breakfast before
+he proceeded to Redland Chapel, heard Ben talking about his cousin's bow
+and arrows.
+
+'I know,' said Ben, 'he will be sorry not to have his bow with him,
+because here are the green knots tied to it to match his cockade; and he
+said that the boys were all to carry their bows as part of the show.'
+
+'If you'll give me leave, sir,' said the poor Bristol lad, 'I shall have
+plenty of time, and I'll run down to the Well Walk after the young
+gentleman, and take him his bow and arrows.'
+
+'Will you? I shall be much obliged to you,' said Ben; and away went the
+boy with the bow that was ornamented with green ribands.
+
+The public walk leading to the Wells was full of company. The windows of
+all the houses in St. Vincent's Parade were crowded with well-dressed
+ladies, who were looking out in expectation of the archery procession.
+Parties of gentlemen and ladies, and a motley crowd of spectators, were
+seen moving backwards and forwards under the rocks on the opposite side
+of the water. A barge, with coloured streamers flying, was waiting to
+take up a party who were going upon the water. The bargemen rested upon
+their oars, and gazed with broad faces of curiosity upon the busy scene
+that appeared upon the public walk.
+
+The archers and archeresses were now drawn up on the flags under the
+semicircular piazza just before Mrs. Yearsley's library. A little band
+of children, who had been mustered by Lady Diana Sweepstakes' _spirited
+exertions_, closed the procession. They were now all in readiness. The
+drummer only waited for her ladyship's signal, and the archers' corps
+only waited for her ladyship's word of command to march.
+
+'Where are your bow and arrows, my little man?' said her ladyship to
+Hal, as she reviewed her Lilliputian regiment. 'You can't march, man,
+without your arms.'
+
+Hal had despatched a messenger for his forgotten bow, but the messenger
+returned not. He looked from side to side in great distress.
+
+'Oh, there's my bow coming, I declare!' cried he. 'Look, I see the bow
+and the ribands. Look now, between the trees, Charles Sweepstakes, on
+the Hotwell Walk--it is coming!'
+
+'But you've kept us all waiting a confounded time!' said his impatient
+friend.
+
+'It is that good-natured poor fellow from Bristol, I protest, that has
+brought it me. I'm sure I don't deserve it from him,' said Hal to
+himself, when he saw the lad with the black patch on his eye running,
+quite out of breath, towards him with his bow and arrows.
+
+'Fall back, my good friend--fall back,' said the military lady, as soon
+as he had delivered the bow to Hal; 'I mean, stand out of the way, for
+your great patch cuts no figure amongst us. Don't follow so close, now,
+as if you belonged to us, pray.'
+
+The poor boy had no ambition to partake the triumph; he _fell back_ as
+soon as he understand the meaning of the lady's words. The drum beat,
+the fife played, the archers marched, the spectators admired. Hal
+stepped proudly, and felt as if the eyes of the whole universe were upon
+his epaulettes, or upon the facings of his uniform; whilst all the time
+he was considered only as part of a show.
+
+The walk appeared much shorter than usual, and he was extremely sorry
+that Lady Diana, when they were half-way up the hill leading to Prince's
+Place, mounted her horse because the road was dirty, and all the
+gentlemen and ladies who accompanied her followed her example.
+
+'We can leave the children to walk, you know,' said she to the gentleman
+who helped her to mount her horse. 'I must call to some of them, though,
+and leave orders where they are to _join_.'
+
+She beckoned, and Hal, who was foremost, and proud to show his alacrity,
+ran on to receive her ladyship's orders. Now, as we have before
+observed, it was a sharp and windy day; and though Lady Diana
+Sweepstakes was actually speaking to him, and looking at him, he could
+not prevent his nose from wanting to be blowed. He pulled out his
+handkerchief, and out rolled the new ball which had been given to him
+just before he left home, and which, according to his usual careless
+habits, he had stuffed into his pocket in his hurry.
+
+'Oh, my new ball!' cried he, as he ran after it.
+
+As he stopped to pick it up, he let go his hat, which he had hitherto
+held on with anxious care; for the hat, though it had a fine green and
+white cockade, had no band or string round it. The string, as we may
+recollect, our wasteful hero had used in spinning his top. The hat was
+too large for his head without this band; a sudden gust of wind blew it
+off. Lady Diana's horse started and reared. She was a _famous_
+horsewoman, and sat him to the admiration of all beholders; but there
+was a puddle of red clay and water in this spot, and her ladyship's
+uniform habit was a sufferer by the accident.
+
+'Careless brat!' said she; 'why can't he keep his hat upon his head?'
+
+In the meantime, the wind blew the hat down the hill, and Hal ran after
+it amidst the laughter of his kind friends, the young Sweepstakes, and
+the rest of the little regiment. The hat was lodged at length upon a
+bank. Hal pursued it; he thought this bank was hard, but, alas! the
+moment he set his foot upon it the foot sank. He tried to draw it back;
+his other foot slipped, and he fell prostrate, in his green and white
+uniform, into the treacherous bed of red mud. His companions, who had
+halted upon the top of the hill, stood laughing spectators of his
+misfortune.
+
+It happened that the poor boy with the black patch upon his eye, who had
+been ordered by Lady Diana to '_fall back_,' and to '_keep at a
+distance_,' was now coming up the hill, and the moment he saw our fallen
+hero he hastened to his assistance. He dragged poor Hal, who was a
+deplorable spectacle, out of the red mud. The obliging mistress of a
+lodging-house, as soon as she understood that the young gentleman was
+nephew to Mr. Gresham, to whom she had formerly let her house, received
+Hal, covered as he was with dirt.
+
+The poor Bristol lad hastened to Mr. Gresham's for clean stockings and
+shoes for Hal. He was willing to give up his uniform. It was rubbed and
+rubbed, and a spot here and there was washed out; and he kept
+continually repeating: 'When it's dry it will all brush off; when it's
+dry it will all brush off, won't it?' But soon the fear of being too
+late at the archery meeting began to balance the dread of appearing in
+his stained habiliments; and now he as anxiously repeated, whilst the
+woman held the wet coat to the fire: 'Oh, I shall be too late! indeed, I
+shall be too late! Make haste; it will never dry! Hold it nearer--nearer
+to the fire. I shall lose my turn to shoot. Oh, give me the coat! I
+don't mind how it is, if I can but get it on.'
+
+Holding it nearer and nearer to the fire dried it quickly, to be sure;
+but it shrank it also, so that it was no easy matter to get the coat on
+again. However, Hal, who did not see the red splashes which, in spite of
+all these operations, were too visible upon his shoulders and upon the
+skirts of his white coat behind, was pretty well satisfied to observe
+that there was not one spot upon the facings.
+
+'Nobody,' said he, 'will take notice of my coat behind, I dare say. I
+think it looks as smart almost as ever!' and under this persuasion our
+young archer resumed his bow--his bow with green ribands now no
+more--and he pursued his way to the Downs.
+
+All his companions were far out of sight.
+
+'I suppose,' said he to his friend with the black patch--'I suppose my
+uncle and Ben had left home before you went for the shoes and stockings
+for me?'
+
+'Oh, yes, sir; the butler said they had been gone to the Downs the
+matter of a good half-hour or more.'
+
+Hal trudged on as fast as he possibly could. When he got upon the Downs,
+he saw numbers of carriages and crowds of people all going towards the
+place of meeting at the Ostrich. He pressed forwards. He was at first so
+much afraid of being late that he did not take notice of the mirth his
+motley appearance excited in all beholders. At length he reached the
+appointed spot. There was a great crowd of people. In the midst he heard
+Lady Diana's loud voice betting upon some one who was just going to
+shoot at the mark.
+
+'So then the shooting is begun, is it?' said Hal. 'Oh, let me in! pray
+let me in to the circle! I'm one of the archers--I am indeed; don't you
+see my green and white uniform?'
+
+'Your red and white uniform, you mean,' said the man to whom he
+addressed himself; and the people, as they opened a passage for him,
+could not refrain laughing at the mixture of dirt and finery which it
+exhibited. In vain, when he got into the midst of the formidable circle,
+he looked to his friends, the young Sweepstakes, for their countenance
+and support. They were amongst the most unmerciful of the laughers. Lady
+Diana also seemed more to enjoy than to pity his confusion.
+
+'Why could you not keep your hat upon your head, man?' said she in her
+masculine tone. 'You have been almost the ruin of my poor uniform habit;
+but I've escaped rather better than you have. Don't stand there, in the
+middle of the circle, or you'll have an arrow in your eyes just now,
+I've a notion.'
+
+Hal looked round in search of better friends.
+
+'Oh, where's my uncle? Where's Ben?' said he.
+
+He was in such confusion that, amongst the number of faces, he could
+scarcely distinguish one from another; but he felt somebody at this
+moment pull his elbow, and, to his great relief, he heard the friendly
+voice and saw the good-natured face of his cousin Ben.
+
+'Come back--come behind these people,' said Ben, 'and put on my
+greatcoat; here it is for you.'
+
+Right glad was Hal to cover his disgraced uniform with the rough
+greatcoat which he had formerly despised. He pulled the stained,
+drooping cockade out of his unfortunate hat; and he was now sufficiently
+recovered from his vexation to give an intelligible account of his
+accident to his uncle and Patty, who anxiously inquired what had
+detained him so long, and what had been the matter. In the midst of the
+history of his disaster, he was just proving to Patty that his taking
+the hatband to spin his top had nothing to do with his misfortune, and
+he was at the same time endeavouring to refute his uncle's opinion that
+the waste of the whipcord that tied the parcel was the original cause of
+all his evils, when he was summoned to try his skill with his _famous_
+bow.
+
+'My hands are benumbed; I can scarcely feel,' said he, rubbing them and
+blowing upon the ends of his fingers.
+
+'Come, come,' cried young Sweepstakes, 'I'm within one inch of the mark;
+who'll go nearer? I shall like to see. Shoot away, Hal! But first
+understand our laws; we settled them before you came upon the green. You
+are to have three shots with your own bow and your own arrows; and
+nobody's to borrow or lend under pretence of other's bows being better
+or worse, or under under any pretence. Do you hear, Hal?'
+
+This young gentleman had good reasons for being so strict in these laws,
+as he had observed that none of his companions had such an excellent bow
+as he had provided for himself. Some of the boys had forgotten to bring
+more than one arrow with them, and by his cunning regulation that each
+person should shoot with his own arrows, many had lost one or two of
+their shots.
+
+'You are a lucky fellow; you have your three arrows,' said young
+Sweepstakes. 'Come, we can't wait whilst you rub your fingers, man;
+shoot away.'
+
+Hal was rather surprised at the asperity with which his friend spoke. He
+little knew how easily acquaintance who call themselves friends can
+change when their interest comes in the slightest degree in competition
+with their friendship. Hurried by his impatient rival, and with his
+hands so much benumbed that he could scarcely feel how to fix the arrow
+in the string, he drew the bow. The arrow was within a quarter of an
+inch of Master Sweepstakes' mark, which was the nearest that had yet
+been hit. Hal seized his second arrow.
+
+'If I have any luck----' said he.
+
+But just as he pronounced the word _luck_, and as he bent his bow, the
+string broke in two, and the bow fell from his hands.
+
+'There, it's all over with you!' cried Master Sweepstakes, with a
+triumphant laugh.
+
+'Here's my bow for him, and welcome,' said Ben.
+
+'No, no, sir,' said Master Sweepstakes, 'that is not fair; that's
+against the regulations. You may shoot with your own bow, if you choose
+it, or you may not, just as you think proper; but you must not lend it,
+sir.'
+
+It was now Ben's turn to make his trial. His first arrow was not
+successful. His second was exactly as near as Hal's first.
+
+'You have but one more,' said Master Sweepstakes; 'now for it!'
+
+[Illustration: _'The everlasting whipcord, I declare.'--Page 241._]
+
+Ben, before he ventured his last arrow, prudently examined the string of
+his bow; and, as he pulled it to try its strength, it cracked. Master
+Sweepstakes clapped his hands, with loud exultations and insulting
+laughter. But his laughter ceased when our provident hero calmly drew
+from his pocket an excellent piece of whipcord.
+
+'The everlasting whipcord, I declare!' exclaimed Hal, when he saw that
+it was the very same that had tied up the parcel.
+
+'Yes,' said Ben, as he fastened it to his bow, 'I put it into my pocket
+to-day on purpose, because I thought I might happen to want it.'
+
+He drew his bow the third and last time.
+
+'Oh, father,' cried little Patty, as his arrow hit the mark, 'it's the
+nearest! Is it not the nearest?'
+
+Master Sweepstakes with anxiety examined the hit. There could be no
+doubt. Ben was victorious! The bow, the prize bow, was now delivered to
+him; and Hal, as he looked at the whipcord, exclaimed:
+
+'How _lucky_ this whipcord has been to you, Ben!'
+
+'It is _lucky_, perhaps, you mean, that he took care of it,' said Mr.
+Gresham.
+
+'Ay,' said Hal, 'very true; he might well say, "Waste not, want not." It
+is a good thing to have two strings to one's bow.'
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[A] _Vide_ Priestley's 'History of Vision,' chapter on coloured shadows.
+
+
+
+
+The Bunch of Cherries
+
+
+On the first day of May, Madame de Clinville, the widow of a Notary of
+Paris, conducted her daughter, fourteen years of age, to the delightful
+garden of the Tuileries, there to breathe the pure air of spring and the
+sweet perfumes from its flowers. In passing through the walks leading to
+the royal palace, the young lady's attention was attracted by one of the
+shops, supplied with the choicest and most rare fruits; among which was
+a bunch of cherries, arranged with so much taste, and so prettily
+intermixed with fresh green leaves, that she could not forbear
+expressing to her mother her anxious desire to have those cherries,
+notwithstanding she could foresee at that season they must be
+extravagantly dear. Madame de Clinville, who never denied her daughter
+anything, and who was in general very plain and moderate in her
+inclinations, purchased the bunch of cherries, although dear, and
+proceeded with her dear Emmelina--her daughter's name--to the Tuileries.
+
+Having surveyed the beautiful walks of this truly enchanted place, they
+seated themselves on chairs under the shade of a large chestnut tree.
+It was scarcely ten o'clock in the morning, the hour most agreeable for
+walking, and frequently the most retired, as the fashionables of Paris
+seldom make their appearance before three or four o'clock, and in a
+_deshabille_ that bespeaks them just arisen from their beds, as if to
+behold the sun for the first time. As such, Madame de Clinville and her
+daughter met with very little company.
+
+The only object that struck their attention was a lady with the remains
+of beauty, whose external appearance indicated a person of quality,
+accompanied by a young lady, nearly Emmelina's age, dressed in white and
+a small green hat ornamented with a wreath of white pearls, which shaded
+the most amiable countenance. They both came and seated themselves near
+Madame and Miss de Clinville, when the young stranger could not keep her
+eyes from the bunch of cherries, and remarked to the lady who was with
+her: 'How fresh and beautiful they are!' Anxiety was depicted in her
+eyes and in every action, and at length, slowly advancing towards
+Emmelina, with the most affable condescension, she said: 'What a
+delicious nosegay you have there, miss! The freshness of it can only be
+compared with your complexion.'
+
+'It would be a better comparison with your own,' answered Madame de
+Clinville; 'for, with your pretty green hat, one might justly say:
+"Behold the cherry under the leaf."'
+
+'It is surprising to me,' added the young stranger, 'that miss does not
+eat these fine cherries, no less gratifying to the taste than sight.'
+
+'They are my mother's gift,' modestly answered Emmelina, 'and, being so
+rare, I really cannot enjoy them alone. If you, miss, will condescend to
+divide them with me!--_the happiness of sharing with others that which
+we possess enhances the value of its enjoyment_.'
+
+'These last words, which Emmelina pronounced in the most expressive
+manner, made a lively impression on the young lady.
+
+'How can you withstand a favour said with feelings and sentiments so
+interesting?' demanded the handsome lady who escorted her; at whose
+advice, attended with a sign of approbation, the young stranger accepted
+the first cherry from the delightful bunch.
+
+Emmelina presented the second to her mother, and the stranger offered
+the third to her charming companion; and the two young folks ate of them
+by turns till there remained only the leaves. They entered into
+conversation, when Madame de Clinville endeavoured by several judicious
+and direct questions to ascertain the name of the pretty green hat; but,
+perceiving the lady make a sign of caution to the unknown, she ceased
+further interrogatories, and they mutually adhered to the customary
+civilities, and separated with assurances of the pleasure so agreeable
+an interview had excited.
+
+On returning home, Madame de Clinville and her daughter observed that a
+servant in red livery had followed them, who appeared to examine very
+minutely the number of the house in which they lived, and from that
+circumstance concluded the strange lady wished to learn their place of
+residence, notwithstanding she had taken every precaution to conceal her
+own, or the most distant knowledge of the young person in the green hat.
+
+Several months having elapsed, Madame de Clinville thought no longer of
+the Tuileries adventure, when one morning, while at breakfast with
+Emmelina and Gustavus, her only son--a pupil at the Imperial Academy,
+seventeen years of age--the porter of the lodge entered the apartment,
+holding in one hand a ripe pineapple, and in the other a note, directed
+to Mademoiselle de Clinville, the contents as follows:
+
+[Illustration: _The happiness of sharing with others that which we
+possess enhances the value of its enjoyment.--Page 244._]
+
+     'Having been presented with two pineapples, permit me to offer
+     you one of them, and to recall to mind your own impressive
+     sentiment--_The happiness of sharing with others that which we
+     possess enhances the value of its enjoyment._
+
+                          'THE LITTLE GREEN HAT.'
+
+In vain did Madame de Clinville and her children question the porter to
+know who brought this note. He answered:
+
+'It was a messenger, who, upon leaving the parcel, went away without
+saying a word.'
+
+Emmelina at once decided upon sharing the pineapple with her mother and
+brother, which they regarded but as a return for the bunch of cherries;
+but were still the more perplexed from a desire to know the two
+strangers. In a short time the porter again entered Madame de
+Clinville's house with a rich china vase, in which was an orange tree of
+an uncommon size in full bloom, with a second letter, which was, as
+usual, directed to Emmelina, and contained these words:
+
+     'I received yesterday for my birthday fete, _Ste Clotilde_, two
+     orange trees like the one sent you; condescend to accept of
+     one. _The happiness of sharing with others that which we
+     possess enhances the value of its enjoyment._'
+
+The porter informed them it was conveyed by the same person, to whom he
+had put several useless questions.
+
+'What!' said Emmelina, 'am I never to know who this charming Clotilde
+is, with the green hat?'
+
+'Let me try,' said Gustavus; 'I will undertake to find her out. Describe
+her as exactly as you can.'
+
+'She is about my size,' answered his sister, 'but a much better figure
+than I am. Her grace displays a prepossessing _je ne sais quoi_; her
+regular and noble features are enlivened by an air of sweetness and
+gaiety that attracts and at the same time interests you; fine auburn
+hair flows in ringlets on her lovely neck; and the whiteness of her skin
+adds still greater beauty to her fine large blue eyes, the vivacity and
+expression of which seem to penetrate to the bottom of your heart, and
+to guess every thought.'
+
+'From this picture,' said Gustavus, 'I foresee that, if I discover the
+unknown belle, I shall be repaid for my trouble on beholding her. Rely
+upon my wish to serve thee, no less than the person in whom I already
+sensibly feel so many charms are blended to admire.'
+
+Gustavus exerted every effort to meet with the beauty in the green hat,
+the description of whom was engraven on his heart no less than on his
+memory. He sought her at all the public walks, theatres, balls,
+concerts, and, in short, every private society in Paris, yet could not
+possibly discover the slightest or most distant trace of her.
+
+A month had elapsed when Emmelina, on her return from taking a walk,
+found upon her work-table a white silk basket, ornamented with
+embroidery, which, she was informed by her waiting-maid, was brought by
+a careful person. Not doubting it came from the amiable Clotilde, she
+opened the basket in her mother's presence, and found it contained every
+species of sweetmeat accompanied by a polite note, wherein the stranger
+mentioned having been a god-mother, and, loaded with presents, she had
+adopted Emmelina's maxim, which never was obliterated from her
+remembrance, and which she had actually worked in golden letters in
+front of the basket, with a bunch of cherries, ornamented with leaves,
+in embroidery--viz.: '_The happiness of sharing with others that which
+we possess enhances the value of its enjoyment._'
+
+This tasty specimen of ingenuity created the most pleasing and grateful
+sensations in the breasts of the Clinville family, who, though
+distressed beyond measure at receiving so many anonymous gifts, by the
+manner in which they were offered were obliged to accept them. Emmelina
+and Gustavus therefore hesitated not to partake of the various and
+delicious confectionery with which the basket seemed entirely filled,
+but great was their surprise to discover underneath the sweetmeats
+half-a-dozen elegant fans, six dozen pairs of gloves, and, lastly, a
+beautiful white cashmere shawl with a broad border highly and elegantly
+finished.
+
+'I cannot,' said Emmelina, 'think of wearing these rich articles without
+knowing from whom they come; simple cherries, offered with a truly
+hearty welcome, do not merit such considerable presents.'
+
+'I commend thy discretion,' said Madame de Clinville to her; 'every
+instance denotes the rank and fortune of these charming strangers, and
+denies us the power to make them amends, as an exchange of presents can
+only be made with our equals; we must, therefore, take care of the
+handsome shawl till we can discover the person who has sent it.' Also
+the gloves and fans were carefully preserved in the elegant basket, and
+they contented themselves with doing justice to the delicacies.
+
+Gustavus, although one of the first pupils at the Imperial Academy,
+frequently shared them with his sister, and daily repeated, while eating
+them: 'Oh, generous and charming green hat, I will find thee. Who would
+not, even the most callous, aspire to the honour and happiness of
+knowing thee? Yes, yes, I will discover thee....'
+
+But, alas, his renewed researches were as unsuccessful as the former. In
+vain did he pursue every green hat he perceived at a distance in Paris,
+but could not find that similarity of grace, youth, beauty, and
+expression of which his sister had drawn so faithful and prepossessing a
+picture.
+
+Emmelina, being no less desirous than her brother to gain a knowledge of
+the person with whom she had divided her cherries, prepared a note for
+the porter to deliver, at the same time giving him strict orders to send
+it by the next person that came, which note was directed _To the
+charming Green Hat_ ... as follows:
+
+     'If the sensibility of your heart correspond with the charms of
+     your countenance, you must approve of the resolution I have
+     taken not to make use of all the presents with which you have
+     favoured me. I therefore assure you they are placed under my
+     mother's care, who suffers no less than myself from the cruel
+     secrecy in which you persist.
+
+                          'EMMELINA DE CLINVILLE.'
+
+The porter, faithful to the execution of his orders, was not long the
+holder of the note. Two days after the same messenger presented himself
+at the lodge, and was preparing to go away as usual, after having left
+the parcel, when the porter, formerly a soldier, and still full of
+vigour, seized him by the collar, and called loudly for Gustavus, who,
+followed by his mother and sister, quickly descended to know from whence
+he came, but neither entreaties, threats, nor the promise of reward
+could prevail with this good man, who merely said the parcel was
+delivered to him by an old servant in red livery, who had given him a
+crown for his trouble, and being well recompensed he would not betray
+the trust reposed in him.
+
+'Since you are so discreet,' said Emmelina, 'I am sure you must be
+obliging. Do me the favour to deliver this note to the same servant from
+whom you received the parcel; that will not bring your discretion, for
+which I commend you, into question, and I shall be obliged by your
+compliance.'
+
+'If you only require me to give the note,' answered the porter, 'I will
+do it willingly, and you may rely on my punctuality. You need not follow
+me, for you will lose both your time and trouble....' At these words he
+speedily departed with Emmelina's note.
+
+Anxious to know the contents of the newly-arrived parcel, which appeared
+much heavier than any hitherto, Gustavus was himself eager to open the
+envelope, and found a handsome uniform for an artillery officer, with an
+elegant sabre, to which was attached a green morocco portfolio that
+contained this writing:
+
+'My relation, the Minister at War, according to annual custom, on my
+birthday presents me with an officer's commission, for those of my
+family or friends who merit it. I beg you to accept it for your brother
+as a due reward for his success at the Imperial Academy. If, as I doubt
+not, he should signalize himself in his military career, and become a
+hero, all I request of him is to follow your maxim: _The happiness of
+sharing with others that which we possess enhances the value of its
+enjoyment._'
+
+To the above was added a lieutenant's commission of artillery, with
+orders to join the appointed regiment in eight days. Gustavus conceived
+it a dream, for that which he so ardently desired and least expected to
+be provided by the generosity of a beautiful young stranger, whose
+delicacy redoubled the value of the gift. 'And,' said he, 'shall I take
+my departure without knowing, seeing, or thanking her?'
+
+'There is a mode,' exclaimed Madame de Clinville, with her eyes beaming
+with recollection and delight. 'We must introduce ourselves this day to
+the Minister at War, and request an interview; we may then learn from
+him to whom we are indebted for this happy event....'
+
+'You are right,' replied Gustavus; 'let us go to him directly.' He
+dressed himself in the regimentals, which to his great surprise exactly
+fitted him. Emmelina and her mother dressed themselves elegantly, and in
+an hour's time all three arrived at the Minister's house, who received
+them with most polite affability, and, conceiving they were acquainted
+with their young benefactress, said: 'In acceding to the anxious
+solicitations of Miss de St. Leon I am only doing justice to her
+deserving protege as I can trace in M. de Clinville's countenance a
+goodness that will render him worthy all the interest I can devote to
+him, and which I promise you he shall ever experience.'
+
+'Miss de St. Leon! Miss de St. Leon!' repeated Gustavus.
+
+'Most likely,' added Madame de Clinville, 'she is the daughter of the
+general who, by his great exploits, has attained one of the highest
+posts under Government, and is one of the Emperor's greatest favourites.
+We must learn where he lives, and go to him directly.'
+
+'Let us,' said Emmelina, 'enter the first library and examine the Court
+calendar, and we shall find this so much desired address.' Upon which
+they discovered the general resided at the village St. Honore, near the
+Elysee, and thither speedily repaired.
+
+Emmelina desired the porter to announce that M. de Clinville, an
+artillery officer, and his family requested a moment's interview with
+Miss de St. Leon. The porter shortly returned with a footman, who had
+orders to introduce the ladies and the newly-appointed officer to the
+great hall where Miss de St. Leon delayed not to attend them.
+
+She was in the same dress and green hat, ornamented with white pearls,
+which she wore on meeting her in the Tuileries, accompanied by the same
+lady, whom she called her aunt. She advanced precipitately to Emmelina,
+and, embracing her, said: 'Forgive me for having deceived you with
+secrecy, and wounded your delicacy.' She then added, with sensible
+emotion: 'I wished gradually to give you a proof of those sentiments you
+inspired me with on our first meeting, and convinced, by the inquiries I
+made, that your greatest ambition was to obtain a commission for your
+brother, and from the high character given of him by the head masters of
+the academy my aunt and I have (in the absence of my father with the
+army), without difficulty obtained him that which will add to the
+country's service another brave soldier, and to your worthy family the
+completion of your wishes, and, lastly, to myself the happiness of
+proving to you the high value I set on your delicious bunch of cherries
+which you obliged me to partake of, and how strong an impression the
+sentiment which accompanied them has made upon my remembrance.' To which
+at first Emmelina made no reply, but affectionately embraced and saluted
+her.
+
+Madame de Clinville could not forbear requesting permission for the same
+indulgence.
+
+Gustavus, with all the vivacity of a young French officer, and eager to
+realize the good opinion formed of him, exclaimed with an heroic accent:
+'How long the time seems ere I shall take my station under the Imperial
+Eagles. If I do not in a year merit the cross of honour His Majesty
+shall be welcome to erase me from the list of the brave....' As soon as
+he found his amiable benefactress had carried her goodness so far as to
+find out his tailor, to whom she gave the order for his first
+regimentals, his surprise ceased that they fitted so well.
+
+'To complete this day of joy,' said Miss de St. Leon's aunt, 'I hope
+these ladies and the young lieutenant will dine with us, so that we may
+enjoy as long as possible the felicities they have been the means of
+promoting.'
+
+Madame de Clinville readily accepted the invitation, but requested leave
+to return home, when herself and children departed, and at the
+dinner-hour made their appearance dressed in the clothes they wore at
+the Tuileries meeting, but in addition to Emmelina's simple dress was
+displayed the rich cashmere shawl, one of the fans, and a pair of gloves
+received from the green hat, who sensibly felt this mark of attention.
+
+They seated themselves at table, when Miss de St. Leon discovered, on
+unfolding her napkin, a small case containing a ring set with three
+brilliants. Underneath the mounting was engraved: _A token of lasting
+gratitude...._
+
+She immediately put the ring on her finger, and declared she never would
+part from it. In Emmelina she found a constant and sincere friend, in
+Gustavus an officer of exalted rank by his important services to his
+country. Miss de St. Leon and Emmelina, in their frequent interviews and
+the participations of their sweetest endearments, repeated together:
+'_The happiness of sharing with others that which we possess enhances
+the value of its enjoyment._'
+
+
+
+
+The Fugitive
+
+
+On the evening of the day which succeeded that of the visit to the Fairy
+Island the baronet and his family were seated in the drawing-room, and
+Lady Clairmont was arranging with her husband their plans for the
+reception of their uncle, Mr. Geoffrey Clairmont, from whom a letter had
+been just received intimating his intention of being with them the next
+day to a late dinner, but requesting they would not make any material
+addition to their table, as a white soup, a turbot, a little venison,
+and a pheasant would be all he should require, or if his fancy stood for
+any _bonnes bouches_, his factotum, Monsieur Melange (his valet, cook,
+and occasional secretary) would bring materials for preparing them.
+
+The party were amusing themselves with admiring the modest simplicity of
+the old gentleman's bill of fare when Denton, the house-steward, ran in,
+and, staring wildly around, exclaimed: 'Thank goodness everybody is
+here!' then, darting forward to an open door which looked upon the lawn,
+he shut and locked it, and slammed down the sashes with the greatest
+precipitation, then, turning to Sir William, said: 'Pray, sir, please
+to come out of the room with me this moment.'
+
+The baronet followed him outside the door, while the careful servant,
+still holding it ajar, added: 'Pray, ladies and gentlemen, don't stir
+out of this room, pray don't.' He then shut and locked the door.
+
+'Why, what ails you, Denton; what is all this about?' said the baronet.
+'One would think you had been bit by a mad dog.'
+
+'Not exactly that, Sir William,' replied the man, quivering in every
+limb, 'but I fear we may all be bit, before an hour is over our heads,
+by something quite as bad.'
+
+He then informed his master that the keeper of a caravan of wild beasts
+had just come to the castle, and stated that in going through the
+nearest market-town his vehicle had been upset, and the damage which
+ensued had given an opportunity for one of his most valuable animals, a
+Bengal tiger, to make its escape, that he and two of the keepers had
+tracked it as far as the Warren on the Clairmont estate, and he had come
+to beg assistance from the castle, while the other two stood armed on
+each side a gap in the Warren where they thought it was hid, and from
+whence, should it attempt to issue, they hoped, by help from Sir
+William, to intercept its free egress.
+
+'They want ropes and blankets and coverlets from the servants' beds,'
+added Denton, 'to spread over the gap, which things they mean to fasten
+down on each side, and then lure the beast to the entrance by the scent
+of his usual food, when he will try to force himself through the
+coverings; then they can lay hold of his smothered head without fear,
+and easily slipping a noose round his neck convey him in this manner
+back to his old quarters.'
+
+'By all means let them have what is necessary,' said the baronet, 'and
+tell the grooms to keep the stable-door locked, and get in the horses.
+It is not likely that the creature will come near the house till he is
+starved into a visitation, but let the gamekeeper and his men be ready,
+and muster what arms you have.'
+
+'To be sure, Sir William, it shall be done,' said the frightened
+steward, as he walked cautiously across the hall, looking on every side
+as he advanced.
+
+'Well,' said the baronet laughing, as he returned to the drawing-room,
+'two such _gourmands_ in one four-and-twenty hours is one too many sure
+enough. Here's a tiger come amongst us to-day by way of _avant-courier_
+to Uncle Geoffrey.'
+
+'A tiger!' cried both the boys. 'Oh, where, father? But you are joking?'
+
+'No; 'tis a plain fact, according to Denton,' said Sir William, whose
+information he then gave, and added: 'Though I have no apprehension of
+the animal coming here I must beg you all to move upstairs, and keep in
+the house till it is secured.'
+
+'Secured; how can that be? it must be shot,' said William, adding: 'Pray
+don't let Fred and me go upstairs with the misses, father. We can load a
+gun, and take aim now as well as we shall do at five-and-twenty.'
+
+'Pray let us go, father,' said Frederick; 'it would be such a thing for
+me to say in India that I had shot a tiger in England.'
+
+'But,' said Mr. Stanhope, 'do you not think it would be better if the
+poor creature's life could be preserved? Its death must be a great loss
+to its owner, and life is, no doubt, happiness to the creature itself.
+Why terminate the existence of any animal by which we are not annoyed,
+and which is not necessary to our subsistence? We certainly have no
+right to do so.'
+
+'Then you would not even kill a moth, Mr. Stanhope?' said Julia.
+
+'No, that he would not, I dare say,' said Agnes; 'dear little
+silver-wings. Mr. Stanhope knows that clippings of Russia leather and
+cedar-shavings will keep the little creatures off our shawls and muffs,
+and why should not the pretty things live and be happy?'
+
+'Are you the patroness of the spiders too, little girl?' said William.
+
+'I would put one out of my room,' said Agnes, 'if I found one there, but
+certainly I would not kill it, for you know it does me no harm, and
+surely it was intended that spiders should have some place to live in,
+or they would not have been made.'
+
+'You are a very considerate miss,' said William; 'but, at all events, we
+cannot afford any free place for tigers in this country. So come, dear
+father, let us have guns, and go with you and Mr. Stanhope, for I am
+sure neither of you intend to stay cooped up here. I promise to be under
+orders, and not move an inch in any way without permission.'
+
+'And I make the same promise,' said Frederick eagerly.
+
+'And I can answer for both,' said Mr. Stanhope warmly, 'that neither of
+those young gentlemen will fail to keep his word.'
+
+'Thank you, dear sir,' said the youths in the same breath.
+
+'Mother, grandmother, you don't wish us to stay here,' said William;
+'you would not like to see us milk-sops?'
+
+'Certainly not, my dears,' said the dowager. 'While you move under your
+father's directions your mother and I can have nothing to fear. Courage
+is a virtue indispensible in a man and a gentleman, and like other
+virtues is confirmed by exercise. You need not walk into the tiger's
+mouth, you know; but if you find him likely to do mischief, and you can
+prevent it, I hope you will retain your self-possession so as to make
+sure aim, and pull your trigger firmly.'
+
+'Never fear, grandmother; never fear, dear mother,' cried the youths.
+
+'Good-bye, Bill; good-bye, Freddy,' said all the sisters.
+
+'Now, father, shall we go?'
+
+'What say you, Mr. Stanhope,' asked the baronet, 'will you make a sortie
+with us.'
+
+'Most willingly,' replied the tutor. 'I have a brace of trusty pistols
+in prime condition, and with a gun shall feel well equipped.'
+
+'Well, then, ladies, adieu for the present,' said Sir William; 'you had
+better go up to the observatory; you may see all our movements from
+thence.'
+
+'An excellent thought,' replied Lady Clairmont; and away went the female
+party to their high station, while the gentlemen, well furnished with
+arms, walked out into the park, looking with keen inquiring eyes on
+every side as they went on. No enemy, however, appeared, but in about
+ten minutes, having taken the direction of the western lodge, they were
+surprised by the sight of a coach-and-four coming rapidly along.
+
+'By Jove, 'tis the Clairmont livery! 'tis Uncle Geoffrey, as I am
+alive!' exclaimed Sir William. 'What day of the month is this?'
+
+'The seventeenth,' said Frederick.
+
+'His letter says he shall be here on the eighteenth,' rejoined the
+baronet. 'Well, he must put up with what he can get for his dinner, and
+thank his own want of punctuality for his bad fare.'
+
+'Oh, poor Sheldon, what a fuss he will be in,' said Frederick laughing.
+'The turbot is taking his pastime in the waters, and the pheasant in the
+woods. Unfortunate Uncle Geff!'
+
+At this moment a tremendous shout or rather yell was heard in the
+direction of the Warren on the left, and at a considerable distance, but
+it grew louder and approached nearer every moment.
+
+'There is certainly something in the wind now,' said the gentlemen.
+Every eye was upon the alert, and the carriage within two hundred paces
+of our party.
+
+'Ha, there he goes!' said William.
+
+'There he goes!' cried Frederick, as the tiger darted across the park
+towards the carriage. 'He'll make at the horses. See! see! he has
+actually fastened upon poor Culina! No, 'tis Apicius, uncle's grand
+favourite. Look at the horses, how they rear and tear away!'
+
+'Now,' said Sir William, 'a little in this direction to be out of his
+side-sight. Remember we must act in concert, and all fire at his head at
+the same moment. A single bullet would but interrupt his attentions to
+poor Apicius, and call them to ourselves, but two brace must surely
+disable him.'
+
+'Oh, father,' cried William, 'how terrified the horses are! See how they
+plunge and rear, first on one side the road, then on the other; they
+will upset poor Uncle Geff to a certainty. Look, the footman leaps off
+like lightning, and now the coachman follows him. See, they are climbing
+up into the old oak, and leave the horses to their fate, the cowards!
+The poor beasts are perfectly mad. Now they have done it. The fore-wheel
+has struck against the curbstone and flown off, and now the hind-wheel
+on the same side is off too, and down goes the carriage. I'm sure I
+heard poor Uncle Geff cry out, but the tiger still keeps hold on the
+horse's shoulders.'
+
+'Now there's a moment's pause,' said the baronet. 'Fire at his head!'
+They did so, and their aim was so just that the creature fell instantly,
+but his efforts to rise, in which he nearly succeeded two or three
+times, filled the crowd which was now assembling with dismay.
+
+'Mr. Stanhope will lend you his pistols, boys,' said Sir William. 'Go
+nearer, if you like, and share the honour of giving the beast his
+quietus.'
+
+The youths took the arms exultingly, and advancing boldly towards the
+animal, who still writhed in fearful strength, they fired again at his
+head, and he then sunk to rise no more. It seems he had actually taken
+refuge in a hollow of the Warren, but the keepers had secured the
+entrance so imperfectly that he easily effected his escape.
+
+A loud cry of 'Victory! victory!' was uttered by the surrounding
+multitude, and the words 'Brave boys!' 'True Clairmonts!' were many
+times repeated by the crowd.
+
+'And now let us see after poor Mr. Clairmont,' said Sir William, going
+up to the carriage, which lay on its side. The two _stout gentlemen_ who
+had clambered up into the oak, seeing the enemy breathless, had summoned
+courage to descend, and were trying to pacify and unharness the
+trembling horses.
+
+'How are you, my dear sir? how are you, Mr. Clairmont?' said the
+baronet, speaking aloud, not being able to see into the carriage.
+
+'_What_ am I, you mean, nephew,' roared out the old gentleman. 'Why I am
+a perfect mass of blanc-mange, bruised to a universal pulp.'
+
+[Illustration: _'There he goes!'--Page 261._]
+
+'I hope not,' replied the baronet; 'no bones broken, I trust?'
+
+'Bones! I don't think I've such a thing as a bone belonging to me no
+more than if I had been hermetically sealed in a register-boiler. I tell
+you I'm nothing but a huge fricandeau; you may cut me in slices, and
+take me out piecemeal.'
+
+'I am happy to hear you are in a state to make merry with your
+misfortunes, my dear sir,' rejoined Sir William; 'but, seriously, how
+shall we manage to get you out?'
+
+'The tiger is dead as Napoleon, uncle, and lies at the feet of your
+favourite Apicius,' said William.
+
+'And the horses are taken off,' added the baronet; 'but I fear the
+raising of the carriage to assist your descending cannot be effected
+without giving you some more severe jolting. Where is your valet?
+Perhaps he can help you if the coach-door be got open. Melange,' cried
+Mr. Clairmont, 'are you dead or stupid?'
+
+'Ni l'un ni l'autre, monsieur,' replied the servant doggedly.
+
+'Then pray bestir yourself, and get me out of this miserable ruin. Don't
+you hear them say the tiger is killed? Why do you stay sprawling here
+looking as ghastly as if he were grinning at you in all his glory?'
+
+Melange began to move.
+
+'There now,' said his master, 'you have set your foot on the bottle in
+the side-pocket; there it goes--a bottle of my finest claret!'
+
+Melange popped his head over the perpendicular floor of the carriage,
+and seeing the tiger positively dead he sprang out with great facility,
+and appeared to have received no other injury than certain indications
+of culinary luxuries which besprinkled his habit so plentifully as to
+give his tailor (had he seen it) hopes of an ample order for a refit.
+
+'Well, Melange,' said Sir William, 'what measure are you about to take
+for your master's relief?'
+
+'The carriage must be unpacked, Sir William,' said the valet
+consequentially, 'and then monsieur may be raised so gently as not to
+suffer any farther inconvenience.'
+
+He then, with the assistance of his two fellow-servants, removed all the
+packages from the boot, etc., etc., and by the help of the numerous
+bystanders propped up the carriage, and assisted his master to descend,
+the skirts of whose coat bore evident marks of the course the claret had
+taken when it escaped from its imprisonment in the flask, while his
+trousers and stockings appeared to have been liberally complimented with
+Ude's delicious _consomme_ at the moment of the grand squash.
+
+Lady Clairmont, having seen all from the observatory, had sent a sofa
+and pillows for her uncle's accommodation, which arrived at this moment,
+and the baronet, with Mr. Stanhope's aid, placed the old gentleman upon
+it in a state of comparative comfort, the boys trying to arrange the
+cushions and pillows for him, while an air of good-humoured contempt
+mingled with their assiduities.
+
+'Ah, my poor friend, Apicius,' he exclaimed on seeing the dying horse
+panting beside the prostrate destroyer, 'nothing can be done for you, I
+see. Lead him away if possible, and put him out of his pain as
+mercifully as you can. Fine creature. I cannot bear to look at him; he
+little thought, when he pranced off so stately yesterday morning, that
+he was coming to feed the hounds at Clairmont, and a tit-bit they will
+find him; he's in capital condition. Pray let him be taken away.'
+
+'I think we had better take care of you first, dear sir,' said his
+nephew, 'but I fear you will not find a dinner to your taste this
+evening. There will be two dishes minus at least, for we did not expect
+you till to-morrow, the eighteenth--the day you named.'
+
+'Ha, that was an unlucky mistake of Melange which we found out too late.
+He put the paper before me and dated the letter; but, however, as things
+have turned out it is of no consequence. I shall take no dinner to-day,
+but some pearl-sago, enriched with a good dash of old Jamaica. You must
+let me have a warm bath, nephew, and bid them put me to bed directly,
+and in two or three days, perhaps, all will be set to rights. Hope Lady
+Clairmont and all your family are well. How do you do, Mr. Stanhope?
+Excuse me, I can't pretend to see anybody for the next eight-and-forty
+hours. By this management I, perhaps, may escape a fit of the gout,
+which has certainly received a most pressing invitation to take intire
+possession of me, even on the very heels of the dog-days. Ha, William,
+how are you, my boy? and dear Freddy, how are you? How wonderfully you
+are both grown. No need to inquire if you are well; you must have been
+playing a capital knife and fork this last year, young gentlemen, but
+that's not surprising; you live in clover here at old Clairmont as
+usual. Fat Scotch cattle and black-faced sheep in the meadows, and a
+crowd of noble bucks in the park.'
+
+'Et les poissons,' said Melange, edging in his remark as he stood making
+some arrangement required by his master. 'Les jolis poissons qui
+s'eleveront de temps hors l'eau, pour dire a leur facon vous etes les
+bienvenus, Messieurs, nous aurons l'honneur de vous regaler. Ah, c'etait
+un coup d'oeil ravissant.'
+
+The boys laughed aloud, and Mr. Stanhope could hardly preserve his
+gravity, but Sir William gave Melange a look that seemed a deathblow to
+his flippancy, for he moved off directly to the care of his jars and
+hampers.
+
+'And your pheasants, how are they? Suppose you have had grouse this
+fortnight? However, for fear of the worst, I've brought a few brace. Are
+your partridges lovable? But I forgot; you never disturb them till next
+month. But I should not dare to touch them if you could set me down to a
+covey just now; my stomach would take it fearfully amiss if I were to
+call upon it for any service at present, after all the bumpings and
+thumpings it has just suffered. But stay, before they carry me off I
+should like to ascertain the extent of the mischief we have sustained.
+Melange, get into the carriage and examine the contents of the
+sword-case and all the little private recesses. What a ruin it is!'
+
+The valet skipped in.
+
+'Well, is the _curacoa_ safe?'
+
+'No, sir, the bottle is smashed to atoms.'
+
+'Not a drop left?'
+
+'Not a drop, monsieur.'
+
+'Well, it was a liquor fit for the gods, and George the Fourth--made
+after old Goddard's recipe. His late Majesty used to say he never tasted
+any so excellent. And my "Treatise on the Wines of the Ancients," where
+is it?'
+
+'Here, sir'--holding it up outside the coach-door.
+
+'Actually seasoned with sardines; not a page legible, I fear. And
+there's the "Cook's Oracle," dumb as a fish, drowned in claret, and a
+new edition of "Ude" soaked, I'm aware, in one of his own delicious
+_consommes_. This is sad work, indeed! And the glaze?'
+
+'Smashed, monsieur.'
+
+'Oh, ruin upon ruin! Best portable soup in the kingdom! Only three men
+in England can make it. However, Melange is one of the three. The
+edible nests[B] and the Strasburg livers?'
+
+'Quite safe, sir.'
+
+'The potted char, and the Scotch laver? The limes, and the olives, and
+the dravolinas?'
+
+'Tout est a merveille, monsieur.'
+
+'Then how have my medicines fared?'
+
+'They were put in the boot with the ginger, the parmesan, the Westphalia
+hams, and the reindeer tongues,' said Melange.
+
+'Now then, come down and see if the colchicum sherry, l'eau medicinale,
+gout mixture, cogniac, vespetro, noyau, and old Jamaica are safe.'
+
+Melange examined, and reported, 'Perfectly safe, sir.'
+
+'And the lachryma christi, Hermitage hock, and tokay, with the West
+India sweetmeats?'
+
+'All right.'
+
+'Well, 'tis an untoward business enough, but it might have been worse,
+nephew,' said Mr. Clairmont, consoled to think all his hampers were in a
+sound state.
+
+'True, sir,' replied Sir William, 'infinitely worse. You have escaped
+broken bones, and out of four horses have lost only one.'
+
+'Then are all the rest safe and sound, coachman?' asked his master.
+
+'Quite well, sir, only terribly frightened, like some of us,' replied
+the man, smiling on one side of his face, and blushing as well as he
+could on the other, 'but life is sweet to us all, and who would not have
+run away from that frightful beast?' looking at the tiger.
+
+'What a beautiful animal it was!' said Mr. Stanhope to William.
+
+'Very beautiful indeed, sir,' replied William, 'and if I were rich I
+would buy its coat, and make a present of it to mother for a hearthrug.'
+
+'A very good thought, my boy,' said Mr. Clairmont, 'and you shall have
+it, if it is to be sold.'
+
+'Are you the proprietor of this unfortunate animal?' said the baronet.
+
+'I am, sir,' said one of the three men who were standing guard over the
+dead tiger, and waiting for an opportunity to ask the baronet for the
+loan of a cart to convey it to the town where their caravan was waiting.
+
+'What do you ask for the skin?' demanded Mr. Clairmont.
+
+The man named his price, and the demand, though somewhat exorbitant, was
+complied with, greatly to the satisfaction of the two youths, who were
+anxious to have it in the family as a memento of this, to them,
+important day. Sir William then ordered the tiger to be conveyed to the
+butchery, and uncoated preparatory to the operation the currier would
+have to perform on the skin previous to its exhibition in the
+dining-room.
+
+'Well, now, my good Melange,' said Mr. Clairmont, beckoning him to come
+near, and whispering coaxingly, 'you will see all our valuables safe
+before you leave them.'
+
+'Sans doute, monsieur, n'ayez pas peur, I have sent Foster on to the
+house for a cart, and shall have everything conveyed to that apartment
+you are accustomed to occupy. Of course we shall be there?'
+
+'Are we to have our old lodgings, nephew?' said Mr. Clairmont.
+
+'If you please, sir,' replied the baronet; 'your bedroom is as usual in
+the west angle, on the ground floor, close to the bath, which is the
+situation you have always preferred.'
+
+'Ha, thank you, that is comfortable. You hear, Melange?'
+
+'Oui, monsieur.'
+
+'And now, nephew, if your carriers be ready say the word, and let us be
+moving, for I begin to feel terribly stiff and awkward in the sinews,
+and shall be right glad to find myself in a steaming bath. Don't
+forget,' added he to his servant, 'the gout-stool and the moxa, and all
+necessary for a good shampooing, and remember to have the sago ready for
+me on coming out of the bath. Now make haste, for here comes the cart.
+Be alive, Foster, as you were when you clambered up the oak like a
+squirrel.'
+
+'My valet shall attend you till Melange has made his arrangements,' said
+Sir William. 'No doubt your apartments are in perfect order by this
+time; so come, chairmen, take up the sofa, and go gently.'
+
+The men began their march, and the baronet walked on at a brisk pace to
+apprise Lady Clairmont that the whole family had a respite of
+eight-and-forty hours.
+
+Mr. Stanhope and his pupils lingered behind, walking on very slowly till
+the men were out of hearing with their burden, and William then
+exclaimed:
+
+'Go, you genuine sybarite! Uncle of mine, I would not accept the gift of
+all your estates if your gourmandizing be entailed on them.'
+
+'Neither would I,' said his brother. 'It is impossible for a man to be a
+more devoted slave to his appetite than our great-uncle Geff. The slave
+of the ring in the Arabian Nights' Entertainments had a holiday life of
+it in comparison. Perhaps it is wrong to say it, but really I feel quite
+disgusted with him. As father truly says, "All his conversation has
+reference to the sustenation of his insatiable maw," and we shall all be
+glad when this animal infliction is over.'
+
+'Gourmandizing,' said Mr. Stanhope, 'is indeed a vice which fearfully
+degrades a man from the rank he was born to hold as a rational being,
+and I trust you will never either of you be under the dominion of such a
+tyrant.'
+
+'We should both of us,' said William, 'revolt at the idea of being an
+object of contempt to others, such as Uncle Geff is now to us.'
+
+'That's plain English,' replied Frederick, 'but not the most polite
+thing to say of one's venerable great uncle, brother Bill, and who has,
+moreover, just now given you that superb tiger's skin.'
+
+'The fear of the world's contempt,' said Mr. Stanhope, 'though salutary,
+ought not to influence our conduct so much as the consciousness that,
+while excess clogs our intellects, we become incapable of the virtuous
+exertions we might otherwise make, and that of the talents we have thus
+smothered we must one day render an account.'
+
+'And yet there are, I have heard, some men of great abilities and
+eminent virtue who are said to eat enormously,' said Frederick.
+
+'True,' replied the tutor, 'extreme hunger is, in some constitutions, a
+rapid effect of intense study, and the appetite may be innocently
+gratified while it rather adds to the impetus of thought than checks its
+advance. Excess begins when the perceptions become weak and indistinct
+by indulgence. Every person is able to judge for himself when he
+approaches that point, and, if he respect himself, he will stop short of
+it. Such men as those to whom you allude feel renovated by their meal,
+and return to their intellectual pursuits with increased alacrity, but
+the _veritable gourmand_ divides his existence between the contemplation
+of what his dinner shall be, the pleasure of eating, and the labour of
+digesting it.'
+
+'It is very odd in Uncle Geff to bring his eatables and his cook to
+Clairmont. I wonder father will suffer it. What a larder this modern
+Lucullus carries about with him!' said Frederick.
+
+'Why, father has indulged him in the practice so many years that I
+suppose he does not think it worth his while to set his face against it
+now,' replied William. 'Besides, Melange is a superb cook. Sheldon finds
+it his interest to keep well with him, and gets into many of his
+culinary mysteries, of which father reaps the benefit when he is obliged
+to give great dinners. As to the Frenchman himself, it is easy to see he
+is the master of his master, and holds him fast by the stomach, as it
+were, by a talisman.'
+
+'What an honourable bondage for a man who is proud of his descent from
+men who were hand and glove with the conqueror,' said Frederick,
+laughing.
+
+A servant now came out upon the lawn to say tea had been waiting some
+time. The youths and their tutor hastened to the drawing-room, when
+William and his brother were congratulated on the fortunate issue of
+their rencounter with the tiger. Their gentle mother shed a tear of joy
+as she kissed the cheek of each darling child, and the dowager expressed
+herself happy at seeing they had proved themselves worthy descendants of
+the Clairmonts.
+
+'Emily,' said she to her grand-daughter in the joy of her heart, 'what
+do you think of your brothers now? Do you not think they will indeed
+prove an honour to the family, and realize in their manhood all the
+anticipations of youth? For my part, I feel so much obliged to our
+grand-dame Cicely Dewberry at the present moment, that I can hardly find
+words to express myself in due terms; that task I shall, therefore,
+leave to you.'
+
+Emily coloured at this remark, but, after a pause, replied:
+
+'I am so much pleased that my brothers have acquitted themselves with
+honour that I am equally at a loss for words with your ladyship.'
+
+The evening passed most agreeably, and the conversation was animated and
+interesting from the topics the occurrences of the day gave birth to. As
+for Lady Clairmont, she was, indeed, greatly pleased with the present of
+her new hearthrug, and Sir William ordered the body of the tiger to be
+deposited under the oak in which the servants had found shelter, saying
+that, some time or other, he might probably put down on that spot some
+solid memento of the event.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[B] The nest of a bird found in the southern latitudes, considered a
+delicacy by the natives, particularly by European epicures.
+
+
+
+
+The Butcher's Tournament
+
+
+Marmaduke Mumbles was the son of a worthy butcher in the village town of
+Scrambles.
+
+He was an only son, and as such, of course, petted by his father and
+spoiled by his mother.
+
+Mrs. Mumbles had been in early life a lady's-maid, and, while in her
+waiting upon the Honourable Miss Languish, was employed not so much in
+millinery as novel reading, which she used to read to her young lady
+from morning till night, and from night till morning.
+
+The tales which took the fancy of the Honourable Miss Languish, and
+which were echoed from the mouth and mind of Miss Squeamish were those
+of 'high romance,' as it is termed. Young, handsome, virtuous, and
+valiant heroes going through more wonderful adventures than our poor
+Mosette in her nine lives, and poor Neddy Bray in his, I do not know how
+many.
+
+Then there must be, to please these novel readers, extraordinary
+situations, wonderful incidents, perplexing difficulties, overwhelming
+disasters, strange providences, and miraculous escapes, together with a
+proper assemblage of old castles, ruined tombs, yawning cloisters, grim
+vaults, mouldering coffins, unearthly sounds, awful visitations,
+spiritual appearances; ghosts in white sheets, with bleeding bosoms:
+hobgoblins with saucer eyes, fierce claws, and long tails; and
+catastrophes so tremendous as to set the hair on end, and convulse the
+whole frame with the delight of tenor, and the tenor of delight.
+
+Such was the food of Miss Squeamish, afterwards Mrs. Mumbles, in her
+early days.
+
+And she used to read and read and read till she looked upon the world in
+which she had to get her living as no world of hers, but a sort of
+common sphere made on purpose for tradespeople, washer-women, and
+cart-driving. She revelled in a world of the romances, where everything
+was made as it _ought to be_, where the virtuous were always rewarded
+and the wicked always punished, where high and noble sentiments met with
+the reception they deserved, and disinterestedness was duly appreciated,
+where passion and impulse, unmixed with the care of consequences, were
+held as the glory of both sexes, and everything that was fair and bright
+and beautiful, and free and elegant and good, shone triumphantly to the
+glory of the heroes and heroines who figured always so splendidly in
+these romantic pages.
+
+But at last all these bright visions were to end. Miss Languish died of
+a consumption brought on from lying in bed night and morning to read
+novels. And Miss Squeamish, afterwards Mrs. Mumbles, was forced to turn
+out into the world to seek her living--into that very world which was so
+odious to her. But there was no resource, and so the lady who had been
+identified with so many heroines was obliged to set up as a milliner and
+dressmaker in the little town of Scrambles.
+
+But the poor young woman soon found out that things were carried on in
+this world in a manner radically different from that in which the
+romances pictured. She soon found out that mutton was eightpence
+halfpenny a pound, and that if she did not look well after her butcher
+she would find her pound and a half of mutton chops weighing not quite a
+pound and a quarter; that bread was ten-pence a loaf, and that the baker
+was no more romantic than the butcher, and would, unless he was checked
+every day, find means to put down a 'dead one'; and that the milkman's
+chalk had got a notch in it, and would make two strokes instead of one.
+In short, that there was at the bottom of this best of all possible
+worlds a vast amount of sheer roguery.
+
+The consequence of Miss Squeamish's want of a knowledge of all this was
+that she soon found out the impossibility of being able to make things
+come together--'to make ends meet'--as the saying is.
+
+She floundered about in her business for a year or two, but grew poorer
+and poorer, got in debt largely with her grocer, baker, and butcher, and
+at last was obliged to stop for want of funds.
+
+But it is an old proverb that 'when one door shuts another opens,' and
+this was the only part of Miss Squeamish's philosophy which had ever
+come true. No sooner was her shop shut up than the bills came in, and
+with Mrs. Shambles' bill the copy of a writ, so that Miss Squeamish was
+on the high road to a prison. But fortune sometimes favours those who
+will not favour themselves, and it somehow or other happened that Miss
+Squeamish pleaded so eloquently for herself and her destitute situation
+with Mr. Mumbles, the very fat butcher and her principal creditor, that
+he agreed to cancel his debt and pay the others on condition that Miss
+Squeamish would become Mrs. Mumbles.
+
+And Mrs. Mumbles she did become. For Mr. Mumbles was very rich, and
+although in person he was not very imposing he made up in quantity for
+what he wanted in quality, and the prospect of plenty of meat and a good
+name to one destitute of either had such an effect on Miss Squeamish as
+to put to flight all her visionary ideas of perfection--love in a
+cottage and platonic affection--and she settled down, in appearance at
+least, as a very spruce butcher's wife, and took to caps, aprons, and
+blue ribands.
+
+Mr. Mumbles was a thrifty man, and had been so all his life. He was
+about fifty years of age, and not disposed to alter his habits, but he
+required Mrs. Mumbles to alter hers. He proceeded, therefore, to give
+his worthy spouse some initiatory instructions in the art of jointing a
+scrag of mutton, cutting out a pluck, or chinning a whole sheep upon an
+occasion. This was very different from novel reading. She had, indeed,
+read of knights cleaving their adversaries from the 'chaps to the
+chine,' and of 'sticking to the heart,' and sometimes fancied, as she
+made a blow upon some unfortunate leg of mutton, which required
+shanking, that this would she do to the Knight of the Black Visage, or
+the cruel Tyrant of the Bloody Tower, or the Renegades of the Cross, or
+any other anti-hero, so that it might be said romance was _scotched_ in
+her, not killed, as we shall hear in the sequel.
+
+After Miss Squeamish became Mrs. Mumbles she determined to endeavour to
+'civilize' her husband, as she called it. It did not follow because he
+was a butcher that he was to have butchering ideas for ever, or that he
+was to know nothing of 'literature,' as she termed it--that is, novels.
+Mr. Mumbles had read 'Puss in Boots,' 'Jack the Giant Killer,' 'Tom
+Thumb,' 'Jack and the Bean Stalk,' 'Whittington and his Cat,' and
+'Mother Goose' in his childhood. In his boyhood he had gone through
+'Robinson Crusoe,' 'The Pilgrim's Progress,' and 'The Seven Champions of
+Christendom,' and therefore knew there was something in the world
+besides scrags of mutton.
+
+Having made these discoveries Mrs. Mumbles was determined to put her
+husband under regular training, to win him, by degrees, from his boorish
+estate to that of poetry and refinement. She looked at his unwieldy
+bulk--it was not exactly the size for a hero, but then she thought of
+bluff Harry the Eighth, who was both stout and romantic, and the Field
+of the Cloth of Gold, and so as Mr. Mumbles became romantic she made up
+her mind to put up with his stoutness.
+
+Mr. Mumbles had no other relaxation on a summer's evening than a game of
+bowls, but as his fat increased so did his difficulty of playing this
+noble game. He used to think that once down it would require something
+more than the levers of his legs to lift him up again. So just as Mr.
+Mumbles had made up his mind within himself to leave off bowls did Mrs.
+Mumbles think of making him a hero outright. But she went cautiously
+about her work. She knew that to change the man she must first change
+the mind, and therefore she commenced her operations upon the mental
+part of Mr. Mumbles.
+
+Her first thought was as to the kind of hero she was to train him into.
+She would not like him to be a 'Jack Sheppard,' for fear he might break
+into some lady's heart with a crowbar of his impudence. Nor would she
+like him to be a 'Eugene Aram,' for fear he should make a mistake and
+hang her some night instead of himself. He seemed fitter for a 'Jack
+Falstaff' than anything else. But Falstaff was too witty for a hero, and
+she thought, perhaps, that if he laughed any more he would be only so
+much the fatter.
+
+She therefore put into his hands the most sentimental exotics of the
+publishing firms. There was the 'Elegant Maniac; or, the Snuff-coloured
+Rose and the Field of Silver,' a beautiful romance. Then there was the
+'Sentimental Footpad; or, Honour among Thieves.' And 'Syngenesia,' the
+last of the melancholies; with the 'Knight of the Snorting Palfrey; or,
+the Silken Fetlock.' These works she read to Mr. Mumbles on evenings
+instead of suffering him to repair to his bowls, and after a short time
+had the satisfaction to find him a ready and an eager listener. She read
+and read and read, and he became more and more interested, till at last
+he could scarcely find time to serve a customer if one happened to come
+in when the hero was in some 'interesting situation.'
+
+And so Mr. Mumbles began to find his business decline, for at last he
+would have his novel in his hand on a Saturday night, and would ask his
+customers concerning this or that book, which he happened to have been
+reading during the week. He would forget to joint the loins of mutton,
+to pickle the stale beef, to send out his orders; in short, his
+customers were treated with such neglect that his trade, long
+vacillating between going on and going off, suddenly stopped.
+
+Nor did Mr. Mumbles care a whit for it, as he was rich when his father
+died, had grown richer since, and was worth at least ten thousand pounds
+in houses, lands, and money. He would soon have given up his business
+had it not given up him, and therefore when somebody told him it was
+time to 'shut up shop,' he said: 'Yes, and I intend to do it.'
+
+Suiting the action to the word he forthwith began to retire. All the
+beasts and beastesses were sold off with the goodwill of the shop, the
+blocks, cleavers, hooks, and jemmies. And Mr. Mumbles planned out a
+house in a secluded spot about a mile from the town. It was to be called
+Mumbles Castle, and was to be built in the old English or baronial
+style, with turrets, low doors, battlements, arch windows, and gothic
+mouldings. The grand hall was twenty feet by fifteen, the armoury half
+the size, the refectory fourteen by fourteen. A long passage leading to
+the adjacent pigsties was called the corridor, and the bedchambers, four
+in number, were dignified with the names of the griffin room, the
+martlet, the rampant lion, and the wild boar, such being a part of the
+newly-formed armorial bearing of the Mumbles.
+
+The adjacent grounds were also laid out in a style corresponding with
+the castle. There was, among other arrangements for the comfort and
+delight of visitors, a tournament court, an archery ground, and a
+hawking mound. Certainly they were not of very extraordinary dimensions,
+but they were rather beyond the general scale of the other parts of the
+building. Mrs. Mumbles had in contemplation to give a grand fete of some
+kind or other. Mumbles talked of the house-warming, but that was vulgar.
+But at last, to ease all difficulties on this score, Master Marmaduke
+Tristram St. George Mumbles was born.
+
+When it was ascertained that provision for a baby was necessary Mr.
+Mumbles determined that everything should be conducted according to the
+established laws of chivalry. But having searched in vain among romances
+to find how such matters were managed, he gave up the matter in despair.
+He found that all romances having come to a marriage suddenly stopped.
+This was very perplexing, but there was no help for it, and as Master
+Marmaduke was in a hurry to come into the world he was born before his
+father and mother could arrange the solemn order of the proceedings.
+
+But both Mr. and Mrs. Mumbles were determined that the christening
+should be conducted upon a scale of all conceivable splendour. There was
+no precedent for it, but then there was less likelihood of any mistake
+or more room for the fancy. But a gothic christening it was to be--a
+gothic christening it should be--a gothic christening it must be.
+
+And what would redound to the glory of so mighty an event? This was the
+consideration, this was the feat to be achieved. Mr. and Mrs. Mumbles
+had many a discourse upon the subject at breakfast, dinner, and supper,
+at morning, noon, and night, but still the happy idea was too good to
+strike them suddenly.
+
+At last Mrs. Mumbles had a dream. She dreamed of a tournament, and of
+all the glory of such an event. Polished helms, furbished arms, clang of
+trumpets, waving of banners and plumes, clouds of dust, clash of swords,
+unhorsing of knights, and outcry of heralds. When she awoke, she said
+emphatically to Mr. Mumbles, as he was beginning to take his morning
+yawn: 'I've hit it'; and gave him a sharp stroke on his wigless pate.
+
+'I think you have,' said Mr. Mumbles, 'and I would thank you not to hit
+quite so hard. But what do you mean, my dear Celestia?'
+
+'Mean,' replied the delighted spouse--'mean that I have hit upon a plan
+for doing honour to the birth of our son and heir, of the propagator of
+the glory of our house, and of the renowned name of Mumbles.'
+
+'Have you, by gowls?' said Mr. Mumbles. 'What is it?'
+
+'A tournament,' said she, 'a tournament, that glory of the chivalric
+ages; will it not be gloriously delightful to see once more "the light
+of other days" upon us? To see those battlements decked with the banners
+of the house of Mumbles, to hear the clarion ring, to listen to the
+strains of martial music, to see the lounge and thrust and anvil blow,
+knights unhorsed, armour riven, helms cloven.'
+
+'It would be a good go,' said Mr. Mumbles.
+
+'A good go; it would be a go and three-quarters--at least, according to
+your own phraseology. I think myself truly happy at having been blessed
+with such a revelation, and pray that I may be strengthened to perform
+my part of the ceremony.'
+
+'And what may that be?' said Mr. Mumbles.
+
+'Why of course I must be the queen of beauty, and you must be my king
+consort. The knights, having arranged themselves, must, first of all,
+pay their respects to me, and then the victor must kneel before me, and
+receive from my hands the richly-embroidered scarf and the crowning
+garland.'
+
+'Well, it will be a grand day--an epoch in my existence--a sort of hera.
+I think they call it a _hera_. And if we could get the band of the
+Scrambles Volunteer Company it would be excellent; if not, I think I
+know some music that would suit.'
+
+'What is that?' inquired Mrs. Mumbles.
+
+'The marrow-bones and cleavers; they are very pretty music, and I should
+like _them_, band or no band.'
+
+'The marrow-bones and cleavers,' said Mrs. Mumbles in astonishment.
+
+'Yes,' said Mr. Mumbles, 'it was my glory when I was a boy, and we used
+to have them all rung at christenings and weddings. I have heard say
+that at my christening and at my mother's marriage they rang a treble
+bob-major.'
+
+'And pray, what is a bob-major?' inquired Mrs. Mumbles. 'I have heard of
+a serjeant-major and a drum-major, but never heard of a bob-major.'
+
+'A bob-major,' rejoined the elated butcher, 'is a long tune, that
+puzzles you to know when you will get to the end of it, and so you stand
+and wait and wait, till at last, all of a sudden, it stops.'
+
+'And how does it go, my dear? Is it a pretty tune?'
+
+'I should think it _was_ a pretty tune--like the church bells, only more
+cutting, as it might be expected, from its coming from cleavers. It has
+made me cry like a child, Mrs. Mumbles.'
+
+'I hope it won't make baby cry.'
+
+'I hope not; but, cry or no cry, we must have it, and any other music
+you like.'
+
+This point being settled the ardent pair began to prepare, with the
+greatest alacrity, for the forthcoming fete.
+
+Mrs. Mumbles declared that no expense should be spared to make the
+proceedings go off with eclat, and Mr. Mumbles began to fidget himself
+concerning the tournament laws, rules, and regulations.
+
+The principal difficulty was, however, in inducing others to take a part
+in this strange whim. Had it been bull-baiting or badger-drawing or
+cock-throwing or horse and donkey racing, hundreds would have been found
+ready to engage in the sport. But for a tournament! Most people did not
+even know the name of it, and Mr. Mumbles' description was in no way
+calculated to elucidate its mysteries, so that few seemed to care about
+lending themselves to the fete.
+
+There was, however, in the town of Scrambles a sharp dapper lawyer's
+clerk, who saw at once into the affair and what a frolic it might be
+made. He therefore wrote a civil note to Mr. Mumbles, in which he
+expressed his delight at the forthcoming novelty, and offered himself as
+a candidate for the white silken scarf which was to be the reward of the
+victor in the field.
+
+The letter being couched in chivalric language, and ornamented with
+armorial bearings, delighted Mr. and Mrs. Mumbles above all things. They
+now felt a prospect of the realization of their fondest hopes, and began
+to prepare accordingly. The lawyer's clerk, whose name was Quiddity,
+also set about publishing the whole of the matter abroad. He soon
+succeeded in inducing a number of young men and maidens to favour the
+joke, and to lend themselves to it. He explained the insane folly of
+this worthy pair with such irresistible drollery that everyone was eager
+to be one of the favoured company.
+
+On the next interview Mr. Mumbles, delighted with the report of
+Quiddity, addressed him with truly dignified solemnity.
+
+'Sir Knight,' said he, 'thou hast done thy spirit gently. Thy wondrous
+works have found favour in mine eyes; be thou our warden from this time,
+and for evermore.'
+
+'With leave to thrust or lance,' said Quiddity; 'for I would not forego
+a rencontre for the lord-wardenship of the cinque ports.'
+
+'Sink me if you shall not tilt with me rather than that you should not
+display your prowess. On the morning of that auspicious day will I
+dissolve thee from the wardenship, and give thee freedom to thy
+knighthood. I will, with my own hands, buckle on thy armour, with my
+right hand place a spear in thy grasp, and with my left salute thee.'
+
+'And for me,' said Mrs. Mumbles, 'I will choose thee for my own dear
+knight, and thou shalt fight under my banner, and be victorious; and
+then, when thou resist from the field of glory, will I embrace thee, and
+thou shalt be the envy of all beholders.'
+
+'We'll _stow_ that,' said Mr. Mumbles, who did not appear to like the
+embracing part of the ceremony. 'But let us now form a committee of ways
+and means--that is to say, let us concoct the thing in a regular
+manner.'
+
+And so the three concoctors sat down to arrange the order of the
+proceedings.
+
+'And, first and foremost,' said Mr. Mumbles, 'we must have seats raised
+round the tilting coast, and a platform built at one end. Then at the
+other end must be a barrier for the knights to come in at; and then we
+must have a long pole _straight across_ the ground, to prevent the
+horses _falling foul_ of each other; and then we must have flags at
+different stations, charged with the armorial bearings of the knights,
+with their crests on the top of them.'
+
+'And then,' said Mrs. Mumbles, taking up the same strain, 'we must begin
+to think of dresses. For my part, I shall wear a white satin robe,
+trimmed with silver lilies, and a scarf of azure blue, richly
+embroidered with gold. Seven ostrich plumes shall wave from my brow; a
+lion's skin shall be spread for my feet; all my jewels shall be
+displayed to the best advantage; and I think I shall, upon the whole, be
+pretty considerably imposing. As to Mr. Mumbles, I intend to have him
+dressed in a manner which shall be unique, imposing, and captivating.'
+
+'We will first draw out a programme of the proceedings,' said Quiddity,
+'and then we can select the various personages who are to be honoured
+with having a part in the ceremony.'
+
+'Good,' said Mr. Mumbles.
+
+'And I shall head it the "Mumblonian Tournament," and publish a
+challenge to all the world to deny the peerless beauty of Mrs. Mumbles.'
+
+'But won't that be coming it rather strong? I should like you to draw it
+pretty mild,' ejaculated Mr. Mumbles.
+
+'Not a bit too strong,' said Mrs. Mumbles, with a toss of her head. 'Go
+on, pray, Mr. Quiddity.'
+
+So Mr. Quiddity went on:
+
+'And then, of course, we should find persons sending in their defiance,
+and extolling other dames, and therefore we should have all our knights,
+squires, horses, armour, and so on.'
+
+'But must we not publish regulations afterwards?' observed Mumbles.
+
+'Of course we must. That is to say, every knight who professes his
+readiness to break a lance must provide himself with horse, weapons, and
+esquire, and send in his certificate of noble blood and knightly
+bearing.'
+
+'But where shall we place the proclamation?'
+
+'On the doors of the church, certainly; upon the "cage"; upon the
+"pound"; and other public institutions of our country.'
+
+'Good,' said Mr. Mumbles; 'I like to honour the institutions of my
+country, and therefore I would not have forgotten the parish pump.'
+
+'Certainly not, my dear sir. Well, then, we must apply to the
+schoolmaster to let us have, on hire, the boys and girls of the national
+schools to walk in order before the procession, with silver wands in
+their hands and blue ribands in their hats, while the girls should be
+dressed all in white like nymphs, and strew flowers.'
+
+'Capital,' said Mr. Mumbles; 'and then we can give them a tuck-out with
+rolls and treacle; won't the boys like it--ay, and the girls too! Lawks!
+how I did laugh once to see girls eat rolls and treacle! They beat the
+boys out and out at that fun. They dabbed the treacle into each other's
+eyes, and roped it over each other's shoulders, and swung it into each
+other's faces, like good 'uns. There is nothing like girls for a spree;
+when they do begin, they beat the boys hollow.'
+
+'Well, then,' continued Quiddity, 'I thought of hiring for a day the old
+workhouse women, to act as matrons or sibyls, as the case may be. They
+will be a pretty contrast to the "gals." And, that they may not cry out,
+we will treat them all to a pound of snuff apiece, and a new dress.'
+
+'And a red brocade petticoat each, and a Margaret of Anjou cap or hat.'
+
+'What, one of those with a long poke behind like a rolling-pin, and a
+veil at the end of it?' said Mr. Mumbles.
+
+'Just so, my dear,' replied the lady; 'and they must have one stocking
+red and the other blue.'
+
+'Ay, ay,' rejoined Mumbles, with an arch look, 'I know the reason of
+that; you fancy but for this expedient that in the _crowd_ the old
+ladies would not otherwise know one leg from the other.'
+
+'You are quite wrong, my dear; but we must follow the ancient costume,
+you know, or else we shall be laughed at.'
+
+'What shall be next?' said Mr. Quiddity.
+
+'Ay, what next, my dear?' said Mrs. Mumbles, who seemed herself to be
+got to her wits' end.
+
+'Why, _I_ was thinking, love, that after the old women we should have a
+bullock, dressed with blue ribands, and garnished with flowers, roasted
+whole.'
+
+'Yes, upon the green, after the sports,' said Mrs. Mumbles; 'and, as I
+should like the whole of the ceremony to conclude with a bonfire and a
+discharge of fireworks, the fire that is to roast the bullock can be
+kept up, which will be killing two birds with one stone, you know.'
+
+And thus the preliminaries for the grand entertainment were settled by
+the three who were to be chief actors in it. Quiddity, in the very
+frolicsomeness of his heart, now canvassed the town, and, with little
+difficulty, succeeded in bringing a number of persons into the plot or
+joke; and banners were prepared, armour was provided, and arms of every
+description brought into requisition.
+
+At last the important day arrived. It was ushered in by a discharge of
+firearms from the back of the butcher's premises. A squadron of horsemen
+next paraded the town on horses, ponies, and donkeys, with the
+marrow-bones and cleavers, and rung most dolorous music. Mr. Mumbles
+arose from his bed at earliest dawn, and, having breakfasted, set to
+enrobing himself as a grand grandee of the first order. His dress was of
+the time of Louis XIV. of France, frilled and furbelowed; and, when
+fully arranged, Mr. Mumbles looked like a real Prince, and Mrs. Mumbles
+held up her hands in astonishment and delight.
+
+The back premises of Mr. Mumbles had been already prepared; a rude
+scaffolding, with seats, skirted three sides of a quadrangle, to which
+admission was to be obtained for the small charge of one penny, the
+whole of the proceeds to go to the Institution for the Cure of
+Rheumatism. The people mustered in large numbers, and, although the
+tournament joust did not boast of many lords and ladies, or persons of
+high ancestral lineage, yet everyone was, according to Adamic heraldry,
+a perfect gentleman or lady in their own right; for they all bore
+_arms_, with the exception of Jack Sprat, the bellman, who could only
+muster one, with which he rang his bell.
+
+In the centre of the platform, at the upper end, was a raised seat, and
+a canopy over it. The seat was covered with yellow baize, and the canopy
+was formed of the hangings of Mr. Mumbles' best spare bed. It was red,
+bordered with yellow, which hung in fanciful festoons, and a
+richly-carved bed-foot on each gave the whole a very imposing
+appearance. On this raised seat, which was made to hold two, were placed
+two armchairs, richly gilt, and around these were other chairs for
+persons of distinction, who now began to arrive in pretty considerable
+numbers. First, there was the Grand Master of the Odd Fellows, with a
+numerous retinue, with their emblematical tools, flags, banners, and
+devices. He entered the arena amid the clang of trumpets and the roll of
+drums, and proceeded to the place assigned him. Then came the President
+of the Anti-Lie-a-Bed Society, with a whole troop of boys and girls who
+had been cured of this great sin by drinking half a pint of yeast
+overnight, which made them _rise early_ in the morning. They were
+received by 'artificial cock-crowing' by the gallant showman, who had a
+place assigned him as underwarden. Then came a batch of young damsels,
+all in white, being chimney-sweepers' daughters; and after them a
+flourish of trumpets--that is, _cow-horns_--a squadron of costermongers'
+donkey-lads mounted, with their pocket-handkerchiefs floating from the
+vulnerable point of 'bean-sticks.'
+
+Next came the redoubtable Mr. Mumbles himself, leading Mrs. Mumbles by
+the hand, preceded by the young lawyer Quiddity. He ascended the throne
+provided for him with extraordinary dignity, and, having made a bow to
+the company by putting his hand to one of his curls, as if to pull his
+head down, and giving a scrape with his foot behind, the whole assembly
+burst out with a simultaneous cheer--'Mumbles for ever! Mumbles for
+ever!'
+
+Soon after Mr. Mumbles had seated himself the clang of trumpets was
+heard, and Quiddity appeared on a splendid pony, richly caparisoned,
+with a hearthrug under his saddle as a saddle-cloth, having in one hand
+his baton of office, and in the other a banner. After making his
+obeisance to the king and queen of the tournament, Mrs. and Mr. Mumbles,
+he took his place in the centre. Immediately the horns were blown, the
+mob shouted, and Quiddity read the following proclamation:
+
+    '_To all whom it may concern, and to our beloved Neighbours, greeting,_
+
+'With a view to do away with and put down the cowardly, dastardly, and
+_ungenteel_ sports of bull-baiting, badger-baiting, fox-hunting,
+pigeon-shooting, and other wicked and cruel amusements, we, John Mumbles
+and Co., King of Chivalry, Grand Master of this Tournament, invite all
+persons, gentlemen born, to engage in, and others to _witness_, trials
+of skill, might, prowess, and magnanimity by means of tilt, combat, or
+archery, and all those knights who have been enrolled as true knights,
+worthy to try their prowess in the tilts, are hereby invited to do so
+without fee or reward, fear or distinction.
+
+    'GOD SAVE THE QUEEN.'
+
+'Hurrah! hurrah!' said everybody, and then arose the flapping of white
+pocket-handkerchiefs, the waving of flags, the sounding of horns, and
+the beating of drums. The arena was cleared by Sam Swipes with a long
+cart-whip, and opposite to each other, by separate entrances, appeared
+the first two knights who were to engage--(1) The Knight of the Boiling
+Fish-kettle, (2) The Knight of the Red-hot Copper. The Knight of the
+Boiling Fish-kettle was armed with a splendid helmet of polished metal,
+something resembling a double block-tin dish-cover, No. 3 on the
+bottom; at the top was inverted a red-boiled lobster for a crest, over
+which hung in graceful curves three black cats' tails duly charged with
+electricity. A large pewter-dish formed the breast-plate of this knight,
+while his arms and thighs were plated with bands of tin, which had an
+exceedingly martial appearance. The shield of the knight was the lid of
+the fish-kettle, a broad oblong defence, upon which was painted the
+device of a leg of pork, with the motto 'Porkus est miceabus.' The
+lance-pole of this knight was a clothes-prop, at the end of which a
+pepper-box was duly fixed instead of a lance.
+
+The Knight of the Copper was also mounted on a steed; it was of a
+reddish-brown, and for his saddle-cloth he had chosen a rich damask
+table-cover, which nearly covered the whole body of the animal. He had
+on his head a copper cake-mould in the shape of a porcupine. His
+breast-plate was a richly-figured japanned waiter. His armour consisted
+of muffin-tins fixed over his arms and legs, his crest was a 'scalded
+cat,' and his shield a copper-lid of wood. The copper-lid was painted
+green, and it had for its device a calve's head, with a lemon in its
+mouth, with the motto, 'Calve's head is best hot.'
+
+The knights being set in due array and in proper position, at the sound
+of the herald's trumpets spurred their nags, and went towards each other
+with the velocity of lightning. At the first assault the pepper-box was
+dashed to pieces against the copper-lid, and the fractured fragments
+clattered about the combatants. The next charge upset the Knight of the
+Boiling Fish-kettle and his Rosinante at the same time, and both lay
+wallowing on the ground. Mr. Mumbles on this rose from his seat, and the
+Knight of the Red-hot Copper made his appearance on the throne or
+platform, where, kneeling down, he received at the hands of Mrs. Mumbles
+a beautiful white silken scarf, while the assembly shouted, the drums
+beat, and the trumpets sounded.
+
+[Illustration: _Knights in armour tumbled over their own steeds, donkeys
+ran snorting about, ladies shrieked.--Page 295._]
+
+How long this foolery would have gone on I know not, but just as the
+ceremony was being performed of investing the conqueror knight with the
+silken scarf a loud cracking was heard under the platform. Mr. Mumbles
+looked red, Mrs. Mumbles looked pale, the company stood aghast, the
+music ceased, the uproar was quelled, and the applause subsided. Crack,
+snap, bang! What was the matter? The fireworks placed underneath the
+scaffolding, and which were to have concluded the evening's
+entertainments, had by some means or other ignited. Presently a rocket
+with a loud roar made a sweep in a slanting direction through the canvas
+at the top of the canopy, to the consternation of all. Before the alarm
+subsided, and before anyone could make his or her escape by flight,
+another and another rocket rushed from beneath the scaffolding with
+prodigious roar and flame. The alarm became general; Mrs. Mumbles
+fainted; Mr. Mumbles roared out 'Fire, fire!' as loud as he was able.
+But now the indiscriminate ignition of rockets, crackers, squibs,
+Catherines, fiery fountains, flaming cascades, sparkling arbours, and
+gunpowder and nitre pillars, and suns, stars, and comets enveloped the
+whole throne and its appurtenances in a blaze of fiery splendour.
+Rockets shot out on every side, fiery squibs ran along the ground,
+Catherine wheels danced on every shoulder, and crackers banged at every
+heel. Such a scene of confusion followed as is seldom witnessed. Knights
+in armour tumbled over their own steeds, donkeys ran snorting about,
+ladies shrieked, and fell over gentlemen, and gentlemen tumbled over
+ladies in pell-mell havoc and confusion, amid smoke and steam and
+hissing and cracking and banging and roaring.
+
+It was with the greatest difficulty that Mr. and Mrs. Mumbles were
+extricated from the danger that threatened them--namely, being burnt
+alive. But Mrs. Mumbles was carried home in a wheelbarrow in a state of
+insensibility, while Mr. Mumbles had the same attention bestowed upon
+him through the intervention of a well-disposed hurdle and four of the
+marrow-bone and cleaver musicians.
+
+Such was the untoward end of the Mumblonian tournament, an event not to
+be easily forgotten in the locality in which it took place. It was
+subsequently found out, as it ought to have been discovered before, that
+both Mr. and Mrs. Mumbles had driven themselves mad by novel and romance
+reading, and they were both obliged to be sent to a madhouse for some
+time before they could be cured of their egregious folly. But as they
+_were cured_, it may be said that the circumstances which I have related
+were 'all for the best.'
+
+
+
+
+Malleville's Night of Adventure
+
+
+I
+
+The Story of Agnes
+
+In a few minutes Beechnut returned with a large rocking-chair, which he
+placed by the fire, on one side. He then took Malleville in his arms,
+and carried her to the chair, and sat down. Next he asked Phonny to go
+out into the entry, and look by the side of the door, and to bring in
+what he should find there.
+
+'What is it?' said Malleville.
+
+'You will see,' replied Beechnut. So saying, he placed Malleville in his
+lap in such a position that she could see the door and the fire. Her
+head rested upon a small pillow which Beechnut had laid upon his
+shoulder. By the time that Malleville was thus placed, Phonny came back.
+He had in his hand a small sheet-iron pan, with three large and rosy
+apples in it. Beechnut directed Phonny to put this pan down upon the
+hearth where the apples would roast.
+
+'Who are they for?' asked Malleville.
+
+'One is for you,' replied Beechnut, 'one for Phonny, and one for me. But
+we are not going to eat them till to-morrow morning.'
+
+'There ought to be one for Hepzibah,' said Malleville.
+
+'Why, Hepzibah can get as many apples as she wants,' said Beechnut, 'and
+roast them whenever she pleases. Only,' he continued, after a moment's
+pause, 'perhaps it would please her to have us remember her, and roast
+her one together with ours.'
+
+'Yes,' said Phonny. 'I think it would.'
+
+'Then,' said Beechnut, 'you may go, Phonny, and get her an apple. You
+can make room for one more upon the pan.'
+
+'Well,' said Phonny, 'but you must not begin the story until I come
+back.'
+
+So Phonny went away to get an apple for Hepzibah. In a short time he
+returned, bringing with him a very large and beautiful apple, which he
+put upon the pan with the rest. There was just room for it. He then set
+the pan down before the fire, and took his own seat in the little
+rocking-chair, which still stood in its place by the side of the
+light-stand.
+
+'Now, Beechnut,' said he, as soon as he was seated, 'now for the story.'
+
+'What sort of story shall I tell you, Malleville?' asked Beechnut.
+'Shall it be the plain truth, or shall it be embellished?'
+
+'Embellished,' said Malleville. 'I wish you would embellish it as much
+as ever you can.'
+
+'Well,' said Beechnut, 'I will tell you about Agnes.'
+
+'Agnes!' repeated Phonny. 'Who was she?'
+
+'You must not speak, Phonny,' said Malleville. 'Beechnut is going to
+tell this story to me.'
+
+'Yes,' said Beechnut, 'it is altogether for Malleville, and you must
+not say a word about it from beginning to end.'
+
+'One night,' continued Beechnut, 'about three weeks ago, I sat up very
+late in my room, writing. It was just after I had got well from my hurt,
+and as I had been kept away from my desk for a long time, I was very
+glad to get back to it again, and I used to sit up quite late in the
+evenings, writing and reading. The night that I am now speaking of, I
+sat up even later than usual. It had been a very warm day, and the
+evening air, as it came into my open window, was cool and delightful.
+Besides, there was a bright moon, and it shone very brilliantly upon the
+garden, and upon the fields and mountains beyond, as I looked upon them
+from my window.
+
+'At last I finished my writing just as the clock struck twelve, and as I
+still did not feel sleepy, notwithstanding that it was so late, and as
+the night was so magnificent, I thought that I would go out and take a
+little walk. So I put my books and papers away, took my cap, and put it
+upon my head, and then stepped out of the window upon the roof of the
+shed, which, you know, is just below it. I thought it better to go out
+that way rather than to go down the stairs, as by going down the stairs
+I might possibly have disturbed somebody in the house.
+
+'I walked along the roof of the shed, without meeting anybody or seeing
+anybody except Moma. She was lying down asleep behind one of the
+chimneys.'
+
+Moma was a large black cat belonging to Malleville.
+
+'Poor Moma!' said Malleville. 'Has not she got any better place to sleep
+in than that? I mean to make her a bed as soon as I get well.'
+
+'When I reached the end of the shed,' continued Beechnut, 'I climbed
+down by the great trellis to the fence, and from the fence to the
+ground. I went along the yard to the steps of the south platform, and
+sat down there. It looked very pleasant in the garden, and I went in
+there. I walked through the garden, and out at the back gate into the
+woods, and so up the glen. I rambled along different glens and valleys
+for half an hour, until at last I came to a most beautiful place among
+groves and thickets where there was a large spring boiling out from
+under some mossy rocks. This spring was in a deep shady place, and was
+overhung with beautiful trees. In front of the spring was a large basin
+of water, half as large as this room. The water was very clear, and as
+the moonlight shone upon it through the interstices of the trees, I
+could see that the bottom was covered with yellow sands, while beautiful
+shells and pebbles lined the shore.
+
+'The water fell down into the basin from the spring in a beautiful
+cascade. All around there were a great many tall wild flowers growing.
+It seemed to me the most beautiful place I ever saw. I sat down upon a
+large round stone which projected out from a grassy bank just below this
+little dell, where I could see the basin of water and the spring, and
+the flowers upon its banks, and could hear the sound of the water
+falling over the cascade.
+
+'There was a very large oak-tree growing near the basin on the one side.
+I could only see the lower part of the stem of it. The top was high in
+the air, and was concealed from view by the foliage of the thickets. The
+stem of the tree was very large indeed, and it had a very ancient and
+venerable appearance. There was a hollow place in this tree very near
+the ground, which had in some degree the appearance of a door, arched
+above. The sides of this opening were fringed with beautiful green
+moss, which hung down within like a curtain, and there were a great many
+beautiful flowers growing upon each side of it. Another thing which
+attracted my attention and excited my curiosity very strongly, was that
+there seemed to be a little path leading from this door down to the
+margin of the water.
+
+'While I was wondering what this could mean, I suddenly observed that
+there was a waving motion in the long moss which hung down within the
+opening in the trunk of the tree, and presently I saw a beautiful little
+face peeping out. I was, of course, very much astonished, but I
+determined to sit perfectly still, and see what would happen.
+
+'I was in such a place that the person to whom the face belonged could
+not see me, though I could see her perfectly. After looking about for a
+minute or two timidly, she came out. She was very beautiful indeed, with
+her dark hair hanging in curls upon her neck and shoulders. Her dress
+was very simple, and yet it was very rich and beautiful.'
+
+'What did she have on?' asked Malleville.
+
+'Why, I don't know that I can describe it very well,' said Beechnut. 'I
+am not much accustomed to describe ladies' dresses. It was, however, the
+dress of a child. She had in her hand a very long feather, like a
+peacock's feather, only, instead of being of many colours, it was white,
+like silver, and had the lustre of silver. I verily believe it must have
+been made of silver.'
+
+'I don't believe it would be possible,' said Phonny, 'to make a feather
+of silver.'
+
+'Why not?' asked Beechnut, 'as well as to make a tassel of glass?
+However, it _looked_ like silver, and it was extremely graceful and
+brilliant as she held it in her hands waving in the moonbeams.
+
+'After looking about for a minute or two, and seeing nobody, she began
+to dance down the little path to the brink of the basin, and when she
+reached it she began to speak. "Now," said she, "I'll freeze the
+fountain, and then I'll have a dance."
+
+'As she said this, she stood upon the pebbles of the shore, and began
+gently to draw the tip of her long feather over the surface of the
+water, and I saw, to my amazement, that wherever the feather passed it
+changed the surface of the water into ice. Long feathery crystals began
+to shoot in every direction over the basin wherever Agnes moved her
+wand.'
+
+'Was her name Agnes?' asked Malleville.
+
+'Yes,' said Beechnut.
+
+'How do you know?' asked Malleville.
+
+'Oh, she told me afterwards,' replied Beechnut. 'You will hear how
+presently. When she had got the surface of the water frozen, she stepped
+cautiously upon it to see if it would bear.'
+
+'Would it?' asked Malleville.
+
+'Yes,' replied Beechnut, 'it bore her perfectly. She advanced to the
+middle of it, springing up and down upon her feet to try the strength of
+the ice as she proceeded. She found that it was very strong.
+
+'"Now," said she, "for the cascade."
+
+'So saying, she began to draw her silver feather down the cascade, and
+immediately the same effect was produced which I had observed upon the
+water. The noise of the waterfall was immediately hushed. Beautiful
+stalactites and icicles were formed in the place of the pouring and
+foaming water. I should have thought that the cascade had been wholly
+congealed were it not that I could see in some places by the moonlight
+that the water was still gurgling down behind the ice, just as it
+usually does when cascades and waterfalls are frozen by natural cold.'
+
+[Illustration: _Wherever the feather passed it changed the surface of
+the water.--Page 302._]
+
+'Yes,' said Phonny, 'I have watched it very often on the brook.'
+
+'On what brook?' asked Malleville.
+
+'On the pasture brook,' said Phonny.
+
+Beechnut took no notice of Phonny's remark, but went on with his
+narrative as follows:
+
+'Agnes then walked back and forth upon the ice, and began to draw the
+tip of her long silver feather over the branches of the trees that
+overhung the basin, and over the mossy banks and the tall grass and
+flowers. Everything that she touched turned into the most beautiful
+frost-work. The branches of the trees were loaded with snow, the banks
+hung with icicles, and the tall grass and flowers seemed to turn white
+and transparent, and they glittered in the moonbeams as if they were
+encrusted with diamonds. I never saw anything so resplendent and
+beautiful.
+
+'At last she looked round upon it all and said: "There, that will do. I
+wonder now if the ice is strong enough."
+
+'Then she went into the middle of the ice, and standing upon it on
+tiptoe, she sprang up into the air, and then came down upon it again, as
+if she were trying its strength. At the same instant she said or sung in
+a beautiful silvery voice, like a bird, the word, "Peep!"
+
+'When she had done this, she stopped for a moment to listen. I sat
+perfectly still, so as not to let her know that I was near. Presently
+she leaped up again twice in succession, singing, "Peep! Peep!"
+
+'Then, after pausing a moment more, she began to dance away with the
+utmost agility and grace, singing all the time a little song, the music
+of which kept time with her dancing. This was the song:
+
+    '"_Peep! peep! chippeda dee,
+    Playing in the moonlight--nobody to see;
+    The boys and girls are gone away,
+    They've had their playtime in the day,
+    And now the night is left to me.
+    Peep! peep! chippeda dee!_"'
+
+'That's a pretty song,' said Malleville.
+
+'Yes,' said Beechnut, 'and you cannot imagine how beautifully she sang
+it, and how gracefully she danced upon the ice while she was singing. I
+was so delighted that I could not sit perfectly still, but made some
+movement that caused a little rustling. Agnes stopped a moment to
+listen. I was very much afraid that she would see me. She did not see
+me, however, and so she began the second verse of her song:
+
+    '"_Peep! peep! chippeda dee!
+    The moon is for the mountains, the sun is for the sea!_"
+
+'When she had got so far,' continued Beechnut, 'she suddenly stopped.
+She saw me. The fact was, I was trying to move back a little farther, so
+as to be out of sight, and I made a little rustling, which she heard.
+The instant she saw me, she ran off the ice, and up her little path to
+the opening in the oak, and in a moment disappeared. Presently, however,
+I saw the fringe of moss moving again, and she began to peep out.
+
+'"Beechnut," said she, "how came you here?"
+
+'"Why, I was taking a walk," said I, "and I came along this path. Don't
+you want me to be here?"
+
+'"No," said she.
+
+'"Oh, then I will go away," said I. "But how came you to know me?"
+
+'"Oh, I know you very well," said she. "Your name is Beechnut."
+
+'"And do you know Malleville?" said I.
+
+'"Yes," said she. "I know her very well. I like Malleville very much. I
+like her better than I do you."
+
+'"Ah," said I; "I am sorry for that. Why do you like her better than you
+do me?"
+
+'"Because she is a girl," said Agnes.
+
+'"That is a good reason," said I, "I confess. I like girls myself better
+than I do boys. But how came you to know Malleville?"
+
+'"Oh, I have seen her a great many times," said she, "peeping into her
+windows by moonlight, when she was asleep."
+
+'"Well," said I, "I will tell Malleville about you, and she will want to
+come and see you."
+
+'"No," said Agnes, "she must not come and see me; but she may write me a
+letter."
+
+'"But she is not old enough to write letters," said I.
+
+'"Then," said she, "she must tell _you_ what to write, and you must
+write it for her."'
+
+Beechnut observed that, though Phonny and Malleville neither of them
+spoke, they were both extremely interested, and somewhat excited by the
+story, and that he was far from accomplishing the object which he had in
+view at first in telling a story, namely, lulling Malleville to sleep.
+He therefore said to Malleville that, though he had a great deal more to
+tell her about Agnes, he thought it would be better not to tell her any
+more then; but that he would sing Agnes's song to her, to the same tune
+that Agnes herself sung it. He would sing it several times, he said, and
+she might listen, laying her head upon his shoulder.
+
+Malleville said that she should like very much to hear Beechnut sing
+the song, but that after he had sung it, she hoped he would tell her a
+_little_ more about Agnes that night. She liked to hear about her, she
+said, very much indeed.
+
+So Beechnut changed Malleville's position, placing her in such a manner
+that her head reclined upon his shoulder.
+
+'Shut your eyes now,' said he, 'and form in your mind a picture of the
+little dell and fountain, with the frost-work beaming in the moonlight,
+and Agnes dancing on the ice while I sing.'
+
+Then Beechnut began to sing the first verse of the song to a very lively
+and a pretty tune. He could not sing the second verse, he said, because
+he had not heard it all. But the first verse he sung over and over
+again.
+
+    '_Peep! peep! chippeda dee!
+    Playing in the moonlight, nobody to see;
+    The boys and girls have gone away.
+    They've had their playtime in the day,
+    And now the night is left for me.
+    Peep! peep! chippeda dee!_'
+
+Malleville lay very still, listening to the song for about five minutes,
+and then Beechnut found that she was fast asleep. He then rose very
+gently, and carried her to her bed. He laid her in the bed, and Phonny,
+who stood by, covered her with the clothes. He and Phonny then crept
+softly out of the room.
+
+
+II
+
+A Sound Sleeper
+
+About nine o'clock, Hepzibah, having finished her work for the day,
+covered up the kitchen fire, and fastened the outer doors. Beechnut had
+gone to bed, and so had Phonny. Hepzibah went into Phonny's room to see
+if all was safe, and to get the light. She then went into Malleville's
+room.
+
+The room had a very pleasant aspect, although the fire had nearly gone
+down. The lamp was burning on the stand at the foot of the bed where
+Phonny had left it. Hepzibah advanced softly to the bedside. Malleville
+was lying asleep there, with her cheek upon her hand.
+
+'Poor child!' said Hepzibah to herself. 'She has gone to sleep. What a
+pity that I have got to wake her up by-and-by, and give her some
+medicine.'
+
+Hepzibah then looked at a clock which stood upon the mantel-shelf, and
+saw that it was a little past nine. It was an hour or more before it
+would be time to give Malleville the drops. Hepzibah thought that if she
+went to bed, she should fall asleep, and not wake up again until
+morning, for she always slept very soundly. She determined, therefore,
+that she would sit up until half-past ten, and then, after giving
+Malleville the medicine, go to bed. She accordingly went and got her
+knitting-work, intending to keep herself awake while she sat up by
+knitting. When she came back into the room, she began to look for a
+comfortable seat. She finally decided on taking the sofa.
+
+Mary Bell, after using the sofa for Malleville while she was making the
+bed, had put it back into its place by the side of the room. Hepzibah,
+however, easily brought it forward again, for it trundled very smooth
+and noiselessly upon its castors. Hepzibah brought the sofa up to the
+fire, placing one end of it near to the stand, in order that she might
+have the benefit of the lamp in case of dropping a stitch. She prepared
+the medicine for Malleville by mixing it properly with water in a little
+cup, and put it upon the stand, so that it should be all ready to be
+administered when the time should come, and then sat down upon the sofa,
+next to the sofa cushions, which were upon the end of the sofa, between
+herself and the light.
+
+Things went on very well for almost half an hour, but then Hepzibah,
+being pretty tired in consequence of her long day's work, and of her
+want of rest the night before, began to grow sleepy. Twice her
+knitting-work dropped out of her hands. The dropping of the
+knitting-work waked her the first and second time that it occurred. But
+the third time it did not wake her. After falling half over and
+recovering herself two or three times, she at length sank down upon the
+cushions, with her head upon the uppermost of them, and there in a short
+time she was fast asleep.
+
+She remained in this condition for nearly two hours, Malleville in her
+bed sleeping all the time quietly too. When Malleville went to sleep,
+she did so resolving not to wake up for her medicine. She did not
+resolve not to _take_ it, if any one else waked her up for it, but she
+determined not to wake up for it of her own accord. Whether this had any
+influence in prolonging her sleep it would be difficult to say. She did,
+however, sleep very soundly, and without changing her position at all,
+until a little after eleven o'clock, when she began to move her head and
+her arms a little, and presently she opened her eyes.
+
+She looked around the room and saw nobody. The light was burning, though
+rather dimly, and the fire had nearly gone out. She sat up in the bed,
+and after a few minutes' pause, she said in a gentle voice, as if
+speaking to herself:
+
+'I wish there was somebody here to give me a drink of water.' Then,
+after waiting for a moment, she added, 'but I can just as well get down
+and find it myself.'
+
+So saying, she climbed down from the bed, and put on her shoes and
+stockings, singing gently all the time, 'Peep! peep! chippeda dee!'
+
+This was all of Agnes's song that she could remember.
+
+She went toward the fire, wondering who had drawn out the sofa and what
+for, and on passing round before it, her wonder was changed into
+amazement at finding Hepzibah asleep upon it.
+
+'Why,' she exclaimed, in a very low and gentle tone, just above a
+whisper, 'here is Hepzibah. I suppose she is sitting up to watch with
+me. How tired she is.'
+
+She stood looking at Hepzibah a minute or two in silence, and then said,
+speaking in the same tone and manner as before:
+
+'She is not comfortable. I mean to put her feet upon the sofa.'
+
+So saying, Malleville stooped down, and clasping Hepzibah's feet with
+both her arms, she lifted them up as gently as she could, and put them
+upon the sofa. Hepzibah's sound sleep was not at all disturbed by this.
+In fact, her position being now much more easy than before, she sank
+away soon into a slumber deeper and more profound than ever.
+
+Malleville, finding that her first attempt to render Hepzibah a service
+was so successful, immediately began to feel a strong interest in taking
+care of her, and, observing that her feet were not very well covered as
+she lay upon the sofa, she thought it would be a good plan to go and
+find something to cover them up. So she went to a bureau which was
+standing in the room, and began to open one drawer after another, in
+search of a small blanket which was sometimes used for such a purpose.
+She found the blanket at length in the lowermost drawer of the bureau.
+
+'Ah! here it is,' said she. 'I knew it was somewhere in this bureau.'
+
+Saying this, she took out the blanket, and carried it to the sofa, doing
+everything in as noiseless a manner as possible. She spread the blanket
+over Hepzibah's feet, tucking the edges under very gently and carefully
+all around.
+
+'Now,' said Malleville to herself, 'I will make up the fire a little, so
+that she shall not catch cold.'
+
+There were two sticks remaining of those which Beechnut had brought up,
+and they were lying upon the carpet by the side of the fire, near the
+rocking-chair in which Beechnut had rocked Malleville to sleep. The wood
+which had been put upon the fire had burned entirely down, nothing being
+left of them but a few brands in the corners. Malleville took up the two
+sticks, one after another, and laid them upon the andirons, one for a
+back-stick and the other for a fore-stick, as she had often seen Phonny
+do. She then brought up a little cricket in front of the andirons, and
+sitting down upon it there, she took the tongs and began to pick up the
+brands and coals, and to put them into the interstice which was left
+between the two sticks. She did all this in a very noiseless and gentle
+manner, so as not to disturb Hepzibah; and she stopped very frequently
+to look round and see if Hepzibah was still sleeping.
+
+The air soon began to draw up through the coals which Malleville had
+placed between the sticks of wood, and thus fanning them, it brightened
+them into a glow. The brands began to smoke, and presently there
+appeared in one part a small flickering flame.
+
+'There!' said Malleville, in a tone of great satisfaction, 'it is
+burning. Phonny said that I could not make a fire, but I knew that I
+could.'
+
+Malleville had been very careful all the time not to allow her
+night-dress to get near the fire, and now, as the fire was beginning to
+burn, she thought that she must move still further away. She accordingly
+rose, and moved the cricket back. The fire burned more and more
+brightly, and Malleville observed that the light of it was flashing upon
+Hepzibah's face.
+
+'I must make a screen for her,' said she, 'or the flashes will wake her
+up.'
+
+So she went to the bureau again, and brought forth a shawl, one which
+she had often seen her aunt Henry use for this purpose. Then, putting a
+chair between the sofa and the fire, she spread the shawl upon the back
+of it, and found that it produced the effect of keeping the flashes of
+light from Hepzibah's face entirely to her satisfaction.
+
+Malleville then began to wonder whether it was not time for her to take
+her medicine. She looked at the clock, to see if she could tell what
+o'clock it was. She could not, of course, for she had never learned to
+tell the time by the clock. Accordingly, after looking at the hands and
+figures a few minutes in silence, and listening to the ticking, she
+said:
+
+'I cannot tell what o'clock it is, but it looks pretty late. I have a
+great mind to take my medicine myself.'
+
+She then turned to the table, where the lamp and the medicines were
+standing. The cup was there in which Hepzibah had prepared Malleville's
+medicine. Malleville took it up, looked at it, and stirred it a little
+with the spoon.
+
+'I wonder if this is my medicine,' said she. 'I have a great mind to
+take it. But, then perhaps, it is not my medicine. Perhaps it is
+poison.'
+
+So she put the cup down upon the table again, glad, in fact, of a
+plausible excuse for not taking the draught.
+
+'I'll sit down in this rocking-chair,' he said, 'and wait till Hepzibah
+wakes up. She will wake up pretty soon.'
+
+So she went to the rocking-chair and sat down. She began to rock herself
+to and fro, watching the little flames and the curling smoke that were
+ascending from the fire. She remained thus for nearly a quarter of an
+hour, and then she began to be a little tired.
+
+'What a long night!' said she. 'I did not know that nights were so long.
+I wish that Hepzibah would wake up. But I suppose she is very tired. I
+mean to go and look out of the window, and see if the morning is not
+coming. Beechnut said that we could always see it coming in the east, at
+the end of the night.'
+
+Malleville did not know which the east was, but she thought she would at
+any rate go and look out of the window. She accordingly went to the
+window, and pushing the curtains aside and opening the shutters, she
+looked out. She saw the moon in the sky, and several stars, but there
+were no appearances of morning.
+
+There was a bronze ink-stand upon the table near the window, and some
+pens upon it. The idea occurred to Malleville that perhaps she might
+write a little while, to occupy the time till Hepzibah should wake up.
+
+'If I only had some paper,' said she, 'I would write a letter to Agnes.'
+
+Malleville carried the lamp now to the table by the window, and taking
+great care to put it down in a place where it would not be at all in
+danger of setting fire to the curtain, she took the pen and began her
+writing. She worked patiently upon the task for half an hour. The letter
+was then completed. Of course, it is impossible to give any idea in a
+printed book of the appearance of the writing, but the letter itself, as
+Malleville intended to express it, was as follows:
+
+    _Wednesday, midnight._
+
+    'DEAR AGNES,
+
+'I like you because Beechnut says you like me. Please to answer this
+letter.
+
+    'Your affectionate friend,
+
+    M.
+
+Malleville only wrote M. instead of her whole name, Malleville, at the
+bottom of her letter, because, just as she was finishing her work, the
+lamp began to burn very dim. She was afraid that it was going out. So
+she stopped with the M., saying to herself that Agnes would know who it
+was from, and, besides, if she did not, Beechnut could tell her when he
+gave it to her. She folded the note and slipped it into the envelope,
+and then, hastily wetting a wafer, which she found in a small
+compartment in the centre of the bronze ink-stand, she put it in its
+place, and pressed down the flap of the envelope upon it. She then took
+the lamp and went to find a pin to prick up the wick a little, to keep
+it from going out.
+
+She could not find any pin, and the lamp burned more and more dimly.
+
+'I must go downstairs and find another lamp,' said Malleville, 'or else
+Hepzibah will be left all in the dark.'
+
+She turned and looked towards Hepzibah a moment as she said this, and
+then added, 'Poor Hepzibah! How tired she must be to sleep so long.'
+
+She then took the lamp and walked softly out of the room. The stairs
+creaked a little as she descended, though she stepped as carefully as
+she could. When she reached the kitchen door, she found it shut. She
+opened it and went in.
+
+The kitchen was pretty warm, as there had been a fire in it all the day,
+although the fire was now all covered up in the ashes. The andirons were
+standing one across the other upon the hearth, idle and useless.
+Malleville looked about the room for a lamp, but she did not see any.
+The kitchen was in perfect order, everything being put properly away in
+its place.
+
+'I will look into the closets,' said Malleville.
+
+So she opened a closet door and looked in. There were various articles
+on the shelves, but no lamps. She then shut this door, and opened
+another closet door at the back of the room. Here Malleville found four
+lamps standing in a row upon the second shelf. She was very much pleased
+to see them. She took one of them down and carried it to the kitchen
+table, and then lighted it by means of a lamp-lighter, which she
+obtained from a lamp-lighter case hanging up by the side of the
+fireplace. She then blew out her own lamp, and carrying it into the
+closet, she put it up upon the shelf in the place of the one which she
+had taken away.
+
+On the lower shelf Malleville saw, much to her satisfaction, a plate of
+bread with some butter by the side of it. There was a little pitcher
+near, too, and Malleville, on looking into it, found that it was half
+full of milk.
+
+'I am very glad that I have found this,' said she, 'for now I can have
+some supper. I wanted something, and I could not tell what. I know now.
+I was hungry.'
+
+She brought out the bread and butter and the milk to the kitchen table,
+and then drawing up a chair, she began to eat her supper, feeling a most
+excellent appetite.
+
+She went on very prosperously for a time, having eaten two slices of
+bread and drank nearly all the milk, when suddenly her attention was
+arrested by a movement at the head of the kitchen stairs. These stairs
+ascended from very near the door where Malleville had entered the
+kitchen, and as Malleville had left the door open, the light from her
+lamp shone out into the entry, and she could also, while in the kitchen,
+hear any sound upon the stairs. The sound which attracted her attention
+was like that of a person opening a door and coming out. Malleville
+immediately stopped drinking from her pitcher and listened.
+
+'Who is that down in the kitchen?' said a voice. Malleville immediately
+recognised the voice as that of Beechnut.
+
+'I,' said Malleville.
+
+'I?' repeated Beechnut. 'Who do you mean? Is it Malleville.'
+
+'Yes,' replied Malleville.
+
+'Why, Malleville,' exclaimed Beechnut, in a tone of profound
+astonishment, 'what are you doing in the kitchen?'
+
+'I am eating some supper,' said Malleville.
+
+'But, Malleville,' exclaimed Beechnut, 'you ought not to be down there
+eating supper at this time of night. How came you to go down?'
+
+'Oh, I came down,' replied Malleville, 'to get a lamp for Hepzibah.'
+
+'For Hepzibah!' repeated Beechnut. 'Did she send you down there for a
+lamp?'
+
+'Oh, no,' said Malleville, 'I came myself.'
+
+'Where is Hepzibah?' asked Beechnut.
+
+'She is asleep,' said Malleville, 'and you must not speak so loud or you
+will wake her up.'
+
+Malleville could now hear Beechnut laughing most immoderately, though
+evidently making great efforts to suppress the sound of his laughter.
+Presently he regained his composure in a sufficient degree to speak, and
+Malleville heard his voice again, calling:
+
+'Malleville!'
+
+'What?' said Malleville.
+
+'Have you nearly finished your supper?' asked Beechnut.
+
+'Yes,' replied Malleville. 'I have only got a little more milk to
+drink.'
+
+'Well,' said Beechnut, 'when you have drank your milk, you had better go
+directly back to your room again, and get into bed and go to sleep.'
+
+'And what shall I do with Hepzibah?' said Malleville.
+
+'Where is Hepzibah?' asked Beechnut. 'Is she asleep in your room?'
+
+'Yes,' replied Malleville.
+
+'On the sofa?' asked Beechnut.
+
+'Yes,' replied Malleville.
+
+'Then leave her where she is,' replied Beechnut, 'and go to bed and go
+to sleep. If you do not get to sleep in half an hour, ring your bell,
+and I will dress myself, and come and see what to do.'
+
+'Well,' said Malleville, 'I will.' So, taking her new lamp, she went
+upstairs again to her room. Hepzibah was sleeping as soundly as ever.
+
+Malleville, in obedience to Beechnut's directions, after putting her
+lamp upon the stand, went directly to her bed and lay down. She shut her
+eyes to try to go to sleep, thinking of Beechnut's injunction to ring
+the bell if she did not get to sleep in half an hour, and wondering how
+she was to determine when the half hour would be ended. Long, however,
+before she had decided this perplexing question, she was fast asleep.
+
+The next morning Hepzibah awoke at half-past five, which was her usual
+time of rising. She started up, amazed to find that it was morning, and
+that she had been asleep all night upon the sofa in Malleville's room.
+Her amazement was increased at finding her feet enveloped in a blanket,
+and a screen placed carefully between her face and the remains of the
+fire. She went hastily to Malleville's bedside, and finding that the
+little patient was there safe and well, she ran off to her own room,
+hoping that Phonny and Beechnut would never hear the story of her
+watching, and tell it to the men; for if they did, the men, she said to
+herself, would tease her almost to death about it.
+
+When the doctor came the next morning, and they told him about
+Malleville's supper, he laughed very heartily, and said that food was
+better for convalescents than physic after all, and that, though
+patients often made very sad mistakes in taking their case into their
+own hands, yet he must admit that it proved sometimes that they could
+prescribe for themselves better than the doctor.
+
+
+
+
+The Life and Adventures of Lady Anne
+
+
+Chapter I
+
+Of the first years of my life I have but a slight recollection, as I
+suddenly lost my mother by death, and was placed under the care of
+strangers soon after I had completed my fifth year. What passed before
+that time is like the faint remembrance of a long past dream, but it
+seemed to myself that I had lived among ladies and gentlemen--had been
+used to ride in a carriage, to be waited on by servants, who called me
+Lady Anne, and to be fondled by a lady and gentleman, who called me
+Annie, and their little darling, and whom I called father and mother.
+These pleasing visions seemed suddenly to pass away. I no longer saw my
+father, nor the ladies and gentlemen; we were no longer living in a
+large house; our servants were gone, and mother was almost always in
+tears. Then, all of a sudden, we were riding alone in a post-chaise;
+night came on, and we stopped at a house. There mother was very ill, and
+laid in bed, and did not speak to me for several days, and a great many
+people came and talked to her, but she did not answer any of them. At
+last I thought she was asleep, for her eyes were shut, and her hands
+were quite cold; then I wanted to get upon the bed that I might sit
+beside her, but the strange people that were there carried me out of the
+room, and teazed me with questions that I did not understand, or, if I
+had understood them, could not have answered for crying. After this two
+men came and put my mother into a large black box, and took her away.
+
+These are painful remembrances, so sad and so painful that, at this
+distance of time, I cannot think of them without weeping.
+
+What passed immediately after this I cannot remember, for I have been
+told that I had a violent fever, and was ill for a long time. Of all
+these things I have but a confused remembrance, yet I do remember them;
+but the time from which I can clearly recollect is from when I was about
+six years old, and from that period I remember every material
+circumstance of my life as clearly as if I had written them all down as
+they happened. I will now continue my narrative at the time from which I
+can correctly remember. I then found myself living in a large cottage
+with nearly twenty other children. We were under the care of an elderly
+woman, whom we called nurse. This house, I was told, when I was old
+enough to understand the meaning of the expression, was the place where
+the infant paupers, or poor children of the parish, were kept. Of our
+treatment there I have no cause to complain. We were well washed every
+morning, and our clothes were kept clean and tidy; our food was coarse
+and rather scanty, so that we always had a good appetite, yet we had
+sufficient to keep us in a good state of health, and the farmers' wives
+and cottage people who lived near would often give us pieces of bread
+and a little milk, so that, as I said before, we had no cause for
+complaint. Our nurse taught us reading and sewing, and, as she was
+rather a good-natured woman, she would frequently converse with us, if
+the prattle of children can be called conversation, and answer our
+little questions.
+
+I must here make a digression to inform my young readers that, though I
+was a poor child, a mere pauper among a number of others who were not
+any poorer than myself, yet I was always treated with a great deal of
+respect both by the nurse and the other children. I was always called
+Lady Anne, and in all our little plays my companions would choose me to
+be a lady or their queen. Then I would, in a language which seemed
+natural to me, order the carriage for an airing, or propose a saunter in
+the park, or perhaps say we would go to the opera in the evening. The
+girls whom I admitted to the honour of visiting me I would address as
+ladies, and tell some of the others to come and say that 'Her ladyship's
+carriage was waiting,' or that 'Lady Sally's carriage stopped the way.'
+It was on one of these occasions that my nurse said to me:
+
+'Ah, Lady Anne, it is a thousand pities that you are not among the lords
+and ladies you are so often talking about. It was an unlucky chance that
+brought you here, for, poor child, with us you are like a fish out of
+water.'
+
+'What was it that brought me here?' said I. 'How did I come?'
+
+'It is a long story to tell you,' replied she, 'but, as it is about
+yourself, you will not be tired of hearing it; so come, children, get
+your knitting and sit down, and you shall hear how Lady Anne came to
+live among us.'
+
+In a few minutes we all had our knitting, and seated ourselves so as to
+form a semi- or half-circle round the good woman. Curiosity and
+expectation were painted in every countenance, myself the most curious
+and anxious of the whole group, for I often, in my own mind, wondered
+how it was that I no longer saw the gentlemen and ladies who it seemed
+to myself I had been in the habit of seeing, and where my father could
+be gone to, and why everything about me was so different to what it had
+once been. Our nurse having examined our work, and directed us how to go
+on with it, began her little narrative in the following manner:
+
+'It will be two years on the twelfth of next November since one cold,
+wet evening, about eight o'clock, a lady, with a little girl that seemed
+about five years old, stopped at the Falcon Inn at E----. That lady was
+your mother, and that little girl was you, Lady Anne. Well, the chaise
+stopped, and your mother got out, and desired to be shown to a bedroom,
+and ordered tea, and tired and ill the landlady said she looked, but she
+did not know how very ill she really was. Well, after tea she put you to
+bed, and prepared to go herself, and she told the chambermaid to call
+her next morning at eight o'clock, for that, after breakfast, she
+intended to continue her journey. She ordered breakfast too, but, poor
+lady, when the morning came she was in a high fever.
+
+'The good woman of the inn was terribly frightened, as you may suppose,
+at having a strange lady ill in her house, and not knowing whom she
+belonged to, nor whether she had money to pay her expenses, so she went
+to Mr. Sanders, our clergyman, to advise with him what was to be done.
+Then he went to the inn, and looked at your mother, and examined a
+little trunk, which was all the luggage she had. It contained just a
+change of linen for herself and you, and rather more than forty pounds
+in bank-notes and money, but no letters, nor any writing to tell who
+she was. The linen, both yours and your mother's, was marked A. M., and
+the trunk had the same letters in brass nails.
+
+'Then the clergyman asked you your name; you said it was Lady Anne. Then
+he asked you your father's and mother's, and you said it was my lord and
+my lady, and that was all the answer he could get from you, for you did
+not know anything about a surname, and I must say I think it is a very
+foolish thing not to teach children their names and proper directions,
+for if you could have told yours, your friends would have been wrote to,
+and you would now have been with them, instead of being a poor little
+beggar in a workhouse; but I suppose, as your parents kept their
+carriage, they did not think there was any occasion that you should know
+your name and your direction; so much the worse for you.
+
+'But to go on with my story. When Mr. Sanders asked your age, you said
+you were five years old, and that was all he could learn from you. Well,
+your mother was very ill, and did not know anything they asked her; she
+did not even know you, though you sat on the bed, by her, and did all
+you could to make her notice you, but it was all of no use, your poor
+mother could not notice anything. Then a doctor was sent for, and as
+soon as he came he said that the lady would die, but that he would do
+all in his power to save her, and so, I believe, he did, but it was all
+in vain, for on the third evening your mother died. The parish buried
+her very decently, for Mr. Sanders said that, as she had left money, she
+should not be buried like a pauper, and he would have taken you home and
+brought you up, but Madam Sanders said they had a large family of their
+own, and could not be burdened with other people's children, so you were
+sent to me, and I took all the care of you I could, for you had a bad
+fever, and were ill for a long time, and used to talk about lords and
+ladies, and would often say, if the earl would but forgive your father
+and mother you should all be very happy. When you grew better I asked
+you what earl you had been talking about, but you neither knew his name,
+nor what had been done to offend him.
+
+[Illustration: _The arrival at the inn.--Page 323._]
+
+'Mr. Sanders drew up an advertisement that was put into several
+newspapers, describing your mother and you, and telling of her coming to
+E----, and of her death, and begging her friends to come and take away
+the child, or it must otherwise be sent to the parish poor-house; but
+nobody ever sent or came, and the churchwardens would not allow any more
+money to be spent upon advertisements, for they said they must keep what
+was left to pay them for their care of you, as you were left upon their
+hands, and many people said they thought that you and your mother were
+only sham ladies, and that there was some trick in it, but, for my part,
+I always said that you and your mother were real ladies, and so thinks
+Mr. Sanders, for he says he does not know what trick there could be in a
+lady being taken ill and dying. He says he hopes to see the day when you
+will be restored to your friends, and he keeps the little trunk that
+your mother had, and the picture of a gentleman that she wore hung from
+her neck, and two rings; one, I suppose, was her wedding ring, the other
+is a very handsome one, and has hair in it and letters, and a great many
+little pearls, and the clergyman says it is worth a great deal of money,
+and that no sham lady could have such a handsome ring, and, besides all
+that, he keeps the clothes that you and your mother wore, that in case
+you should ever meet with your relations all these things may prove you
+are the same child that was lost, and not an impostor.'
+
+
+Chapter II
+
+Young as I was this relation of my nurse made me weep very much; it
+brought to my memory things which I had long thought must have been
+dreams. I well remembered my father's picture; I had seen my mother weep
+over it, press it to her lips, and address it by the name of her dear
+Frederick. I earnestly entreated the nurse to take me to the
+clergyman's, that I might once more have the pleasure of seeing it. She
+told me to have patience till Sunday, and that when service was over she
+would speak to him about it. I submitted to this delay without a murmur,
+and the following Sunday, when service was over, as he was walking
+through the churchyard, nurse went up to him and told him my request.
+
+'Ah,' said he, looking at the little troop of children that followed the
+nurse, and immediately fixing his eyes upon me, 'I suppose this is the
+little lady. What is your name, my dear?'
+
+'Lady Anne, sir,' replied I, curtseying very low. I must here observe
+that I did not know that lady was a title, but thought it was as much a
+part of my name as Anne.
+
+'What, still Lady Anne?' said he. 'You are determined not to lose your
+title. Well, my little lady, come home with me and I will show you your
+father's picture.'
+
+We then followed the clergyman to his house. The children were told to
+stay in the garden, with strict orders not to touch anything, and nurse
+and I were permitted the honour of entering the study. Mr. Sanders then,
+opening the drawer of a cabinet, took out the miniature portrait of a
+young and handsome gentleman dressed in regimentals. I no sooner beheld
+it than a thousand recollections seemed to rush upon my mind. I caught
+it from his hand, pressed it to my lips, and bursting into a flood of
+tears, exclaimed:
+
+'It is my father's picture. My own, my dear father. Oh, if I could but
+see him! Where is he gone to? Do you know where he is gone to?'
+
+'Be calm, my dear child,' said the good man, taking me in his arms. 'We
+do not know where your father is, or we would write to him. If you could
+tell us his name, we might find him out. Do you not remember any name
+they used to call your father?'
+
+'They used to call father my lord; and mother my lady, and they called
+me Lady Anne,' said I.
+
+'Ah! that is the old story, we know it already,' replied the clergyman
+with a sigh; 'but who, my dear, was the earl? Can you not recollect his
+name? Try if you cannot remember.'
+
+'I do not know his name,' replied I, 'but he came one day and was very
+angry, and made mother cry, and then she fell on the floor and I
+screamed, and then the Earl was more angry and stamped, and I screamed
+with all my might, and the Earl rang the bell and went away in a great
+passion, and then Sally--yes, it was Sally--came to mother.'
+
+'Where was your father, then, my dear?'
+
+'I do not know, father was gone, and I have never seen him since.'
+
+The good clergyman asked me many more questions, to try if he could
+discover who my friends were; but, as I unfortunately could not tell
+either my own name, or that of any of the great people who had visited
+us, his enquiries were fruitless, and he closed the conversation by
+observing, 'that it was a great pity I had not been taught my own name
+and address.'
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[_Lady Anne was then taken to an orphan home, where she was treated very
+harshly by Mrs. Dawson, the matron. Great fun was made of her grand
+name._]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At last a man and his wife, who had come down from London on a visit to
+a relation of theirs in the town, having heard of me, came to the school
+to make their inquiries. I was accordingly ordered to stand up, that
+they might satisfy their curiosity with gazing at me, while Mrs. Dawson
+began to boast of all the good qualities I possessed, and some to which
+I had no claim.
+
+'She is a very delicate looking child,' said the woman from London; 'she
+looks more like a gentleman's daughter than a parish girl.'
+
+'She is straight, and tall of her age, ma'am,' replied Mrs. Dawson, 'and
+that gives her a genteelish look; but I assure you she is as strong as a
+little horse. She will wash and scour with any girl of her age; and, as
+for her needle, there is not a girl in the school can work as well. Show
+your work, Lady Anne.'
+
+'Lady Anne!' repeated the Londoner, as she took my work into her hand,
+'that is a strange name. What do you call her so for?'
+
+Mrs. Dawson ran over my story to her as briefly as she could. The two
+Londoners found it very diverting, and laughed heartily, while the tears
+stood in my eyes as I thought of my dear parents, one in the grave, and
+the other I might never see again.
+
+'Well, wife,' said the man, when he had laughed till he was weary,
+'suppose we take this young lady on trial for a month; the good woman
+speaks of her very well; we can but see what she can do, and, if we find
+her strong enough for our place, it will be a rare piece of luck for us
+to have an earl's daughter for our servant. What say you, aye or nay?'
+
+'I have no objection to try her,' replied the wife. 'She sews very well,
+and that is the greatest object with us.'
+
+'Very well, then,' returned the husband. 'Let us away to the overseers,
+and settle with them about taking her upon trial, for I will not have
+her as an apprentice till we know what she can do.'
+
+They then went away, and, in about two hours, the one that I called the
+good-natured overseer came to tell Mrs. Dawson to have me in readiness
+to go to London on the morning after the morrow with my new master and
+mistress.
+
+'And I hope, child,' said he, addressing me, 'that you will do all you
+can to please them, for I give you my word for it, that if you are sent
+back to us we shall send you to the Bridewell, where you will be kept to
+hard labour, and be whipped every day; so now you know what you have to
+trust to.'
+
+I assured him very sincerely that I would do to the utmost of my power
+to please my master and mistress; and then I very humbly entreated his
+permission to allow me to go the next day to pay a farewell visit to Mr.
+Sanders and my nurse, Jenkins.
+
+'Yes, child, you shall go. And mind, Dawson, that you let her go early,
+that she may find Mr. Sanders at home, for he made me promise that we
+would not send her away without first letting her call upon him.
+Good-bye, child, there is a penny for you to spend, and if you are a
+good girl you shall have a shilling for yourself when you are bound
+apprentice.'
+
+I curtsied, thanked him, and renewed my promises of good behaviour. He
+then went away, and Mrs. Dawson told me to sit down to my work, for that
+too much time had been lost in talking.
+
+
+Chapter III
+
+The next morning I arose before it was well light. It was a cold morning
+in the month of February, and the snow was lying upon the ground; but my
+heart felt so light at the thought of escaping from the ill-temper of
+Mrs. Dawson, and the hope of being more comfortable, that everything
+appeared cheerful and pleasant. I made what haste I could to get my
+morning work done, and, having breakfasted, set off about nine o'clock
+on my little journey. The distance from the workhouse to Mr. Sanders's
+was rather more than two miles; but the sun was now shining, and the
+road hard and dry, and I tripped along so lightly that I was therein a
+little more than half an hour.
+
+'Good-morning to you, my dear,' said the kind gentleman when he saw me;
+'you seem in excellent spirits. Have you got a place?'
+
+'Yes, sir,' I replied. 'I am to go to London to-morrow, and then, I
+hope, I shall find my father soon.'
+
+'My poor child, I wish you may,' answered he; 'but do not raise your
+expectations too high, for fear you should be disappointed. What sort of
+people are you to be with, and what is it you are to do?'
+
+I then related all that had passed the preceding day between Mrs. Dawson
+and the strangers.
+
+'Well,' said Mr. Sanders, 'I will call this evening upon the overseers,
+and hear what they say of these people. I hope they are respectable, and
+will be kind to you; and, my dear child, pray remember my advice, be
+honest and obliging; do not let any temptation lead you to take what is
+not your own; and never give a saucy answer, even though you should be
+found fault with unjustly. Will you think of my advice, and act by it?'
+
+'I will, indeed I will,' replied I. 'And now, sir, if you please, let me
+once more look at my father's picture, for, you know, when I am in
+London, I cannot come to you then to look at it.'
+
+Mr. Sanders, taking it from the drawer, gave it into my hand. I gazed at
+it, pressed it to my lips, and wept over it; and, at last, when Mr.
+Sanders desired me to give it him back, I begged of him to let me take
+it with me to London.
+
+'If you take it to London,' said he, 'you may, perhaps, lose it, or it
+may be taken from you. The picture is valuable on account of the gold
+and pearls about it, and may tempt bad people to steal it. You had much
+better leave it with me.'
+
+'I will hide it so securely,' replied I, 'that nobody shall ever see it,
+or know that I have it.'
+
+'How can you hide it, my dear?'
+
+'I will hide it in my bosom; but I am going to Nurse Jenkins, and she
+will fasten it inside my stays, so that it cannot be seen, and people
+will not think that I have a picture. Do, pray, sir, let me have it.'
+
+'Well,' said Mr. Sanders, after a little pause, in which he seemed to
+consider whether it would be safe to grant my request or not; 'I will
+entrust it to your care, but be sure never to let it be seen, nor to
+tell anyone that you have such a picture in your possession.'
+
+Most fervently I promised to take every possible care of this beloved
+portrait, and was about to take my leave when Mr. Sanders said:
+
+'Stay, my dear, here is sixpence for you.'
+
+'No, thank you, sir,' said I. 'I have the sixpence you gave me when I
+left my nurse.'
+
+'What! have you not spent that yet?'
+
+'No, sir.'
+
+'And why not, pray?'
+
+'Because you gave it to me, sir, I shall never spend it.'
+
+'Then you are keeping it for my sake, I suppose. Well, do so, my dear,
+but take this sixpence, and mind you spend it.'
+
+I took it with a curtsey, and tried to say 'Good-bye,' but the words
+seemed to choke me, and I burst into tears. Mr. Sanders seemed much
+affected, and putting his handkerchief to his eyes, walked about the
+room for some minutes without speaking; then, again approaching me, he
+kissed my forehead.
+
+'Farewell, my dear child,' said he. 'I wish it was in my power to keep
+you, but I have a large family, and Mrs. Sanders is not willing that I
+should take you in addition, so farewell, we must part; be a good girl,
+and I hope we shall meet again in happier circumstances.'
+
+He then again kissed me, bestowed his benediction upon me, and led me to
+the gate. I sobbed out my farewell, and, with the tears streaming down
+my face, took my way to the humble dwelling of my nurse. I had nearly
+two miles to walk before I reached her cottage. At first I went along
+with a slow and deliberate step, thinking upon my parting with Mr.
+Sanders, and comparing my lot with that of children who had fathers and
+mothers, and weeping at my own destitute situation; for, even among the
+children who were in the workhouse, there was not one excepting myself
+who had not relations who came occasionally to see them, and to whom
+they looked up for some sort of protection, while I was a poor little
+outcast in society, not knowing one creature in the whole world to whom
+I could say I was related. Mr. Sanders and my nurse were the only
+persons who seemed to care anything about me; and even these, my only
+friends, I must leave, and go and live among strangers. These thoughts
+made me very melancholy, and, though this second part of my journey was
+the shortest, yet I was nearly an hour in walking it. At last I saw the
+cottage, and, quickening my pace, I arrived there tired and out of
+spirits.
+
+The good woman received me kindly, and placing me near the fire, gave me
+a basin of broth, with plenty of bread in it. After I had taken this
+refreshment, which I greatly needed, she began asking me a variety of
+questions, and by degrees I gave her the history of all that had
+happened to me from the time I had left her house, for since that time I
+had never had an opportunity of saying more to her than a few words when
+we happened to meet at the church.
+
+'Poor child,' said she, when I concluded, 'I was afraid you would not be
+comfortable, for Mrs. Dawson is a woman of a very bad temper; but she
+does make the girls good servants, that nobody can deny, and that, I
+suppose, is the reason she keeps her place; however, your time is over
+with her now, so never mind what is past, but look forward to what is
+to come. What sort of people are you going to live with?'
+
+'I hardly know,' replied I; 'but their name is Smith, and they live in a
+place called the Borough.'
+
+'Do you know what their trade is?'
+
+'They sell umbrellas and shoes, and I am to learn to make the umbrellas,
+and that is all I know about them.'
+
+'Well, my dear, I hope that you will be able to do for them, and that
+they will be kind to you, and you must trust to Providence for the
+discovery of your friends.'
+
+I then drew my father's picture from my bosom, and asked her if she
+would fasten it into my stays in such a way that I could wear it without
+its being seen.
+
+'Yes, my dear,' said she, 'that I will, and you must mind how I do it,
+that, when you have a new pair of stays, you may be able to fasten it
+into them in the same manner.'
+
+My stays were then taken off, and the portrait fastened inside of them;
+a piece of flannel was then sewed over it, which, being left loose at
+one corner, I could, when I had them off, raise it up, and take a view
+of the dear likeness. The first sixpence that Mr. Sanders gave me I had
+fastened in also, for I was determined never to part with it. This being
+done I produced the sixpence he had given me that morning, and the penny
+given me by the overseer, and begged the nurse to accept of them.
+
+'No, my dear,' said she, 'I will not take them from you; keep them
+yourself, you do not know what you may want when you are in London. You
+will not then have anybody to give you a halfpenny should you need it.'
+
+'I will not keep it,' replied I. 'Mr. Sanders told me to spend it, and
+if you will not take it I shall leave it upon the table.'
+
+'Well,' said she, 'if it must be spent, I will go and lay it out in tea
+and sugar, and give you all a treat, for I suppose you have not tasted
+any tea since you have been with Mrs. Dawson.'
+
+'No,' said I, 'not a single drop. How glad I am that you have thought of
+letting us have tea.'
+
+My young readers who, perhaps, have tea every day, cannot imagine what a
+luxury a little of it is to a poor workhouse child, who never tastes it
+but when she is allowed to go out and see her friends. Children in
+workhouses have bread and cheese and small-beer about seven o'clock,
+which serves them for tea and supper, and I, as I had no friends to go
+and see, had not once tasted tea since I left my nurse's, who was a
+good-natured woman, and always gave us tea on Sunday evenings--weak,
+indeed, but we thought it delicious; on other evenings we had
+milk-and-water and bread-and-butter.
+
+My nurse soon came back with her purchase. The large kettle was set on
+the fire, the great brown loaf was brought out, and nurse began cutting
+slices of bread-and-butter for us.
+
+The children were so delighted at the thoughts of the treat they were to
+have that they began dancing about the floor, and I, forgetting my late
+sorrow, joined in their sports. When the repast was quite ready we took
+our places, some at the table, and some on the benches, as we could find
+room. Nurse gave each of us a little basin of tea and a good slice of
+bread-and-butter, and I think I may say that the whole body of aldermen
+dining at the Lord Mayor's feast never ate their meal with half the zest
+that we felt in sipping our homely tea, and eating our brown bread.
+
+Soon after the tea was over nurse proposed my returning home, as the
+days were short, and as she did not wish me to be out after it was dark.
+I felt a pang at the idea of so soon parting with my good nurse, but
+without replying I immediately put on my bonnet and cloak. Nurse and the
+children accompanied me a full mile on my way home, and then we parted
+with tears on both sides.
+
+
+Chapter IV
+
+It was a very fine morning, the sun shone brightly, the fields, hedges,
+and trees were covered with snow, which, as the air was very cold, did
+not melt, but sparkled and glittered most beautifully. I gazed with much
+pleasure on the scenery as we passed along, and should have been
+cheerful, but I was with strangers, who took very little notice of me,
+scarcely speaking to me the whole day, so that I could not help feeling
+sorrowful, and sometimes even wished myself back again with Mrs. Dawson.
+
+About seven o'clock in the evening we stopped at a small shop in one of
+the cross streets in the Borough. There I was told that we were at home.
+We entered, and I gave a curious and somewhat fearful glance round the
+place. The shop was set out partly with umbrellas and partly with shoes,
+but everything seemed dirty and in confusion. Shoe-lasts,
+umbrella-sticks, and a large quantity of whalebone, were lying in heaps
+about the floor, while in one corner stood a large pan of dirty water
+in which they soaked the leather, and which, not being often changed,
+sent forth a most unpleasant smell; the floor did not appear as if it
+was swept once in a month. We entered the parlour, which was in the same
+state of dirt and confusion as the shop. Three dirty children, whose
+ages I was afterwards told were thirteen, eleven, and nine, came to meet
+their parents. Their frocks were dirty and ragged, their stockings with
+holes in them, their shoes slipped down at the heel, while they wore
+strings of coloured beads round their necks, that did not seem as if
+they were washed oftener than once a month. They were clamouring round
+their parents to know what they had brought them from the country, and
+who I was.
+
+Their father gave them a basket with cakes and fruit in it, and told
+them to take that, and ask him no questions till he was at leisure to
+answer them. The master's sister, who had taken charge of the house
+during his absence, was dressed much in the same style as the children,
+her stockings being dirty and with holes in them, her gown unripped in
+several places at the seams, and on her head a dirty cap, with a fine
+lace border and ornamented with pink ribbon. The room and furniture were
+in the same untidy condition, and as I looked around me I could not but
+fear that my situation in this house would be very uncomfortable.
+
+We were all of us both tired and cold. The sister made tea, of which
+Mrs. Smith gave me a good basinful, and a thick slice of
+bread-and-butter. They then began talking among themselves, and me and
+my little history was the subject of their conversation. They were all
+much amused at my being called Lady Anne. Mrs. Smith declared that she
+would either call me Anne or Nancy, and Mr. Smith insisted that I
+should have my full title.
+
+'I tell you what, husband,' said she, 'you may call her what you please,
+but I shall call her Nanny.'
+
+'And I tell you what, wife,' returned he, 'I shall call her Lady Anne,
+and so shall the children, or I'll strap them well, and you ought to
+call her so. Who knows but that girl may be the means of making our
+fortune? If she really is an earl's daughter, her father may come into
+our shop some day to look at an umbrella or a pair of shoes, and when he
+hears us call her Lady Anne he will, of course, inquire the reason; then
+we shall tell him her history, he'll make us a present--a handsome one,
+too--not less than a thousand pounds, I should think, or, if it is not a
+handsome one, I'll send him in a swinging bill for her keep, so that I
+will have it one way or another.'
+
+'Why, you know that we must keep her,' replied his wife; 'she is our
+servant, and will soon be our 'prentice, if she can do our work.'
+
+'You know nothing about it,' returned her husband. 'If she is bound to
+us, we shall be bound to keep her; but if she is not, whenever we find
+her father we can send him in a good bill for her keep, and make him pay
+it too, that is my opinion of the matter.'
+
+'And so,' answered his wife, 'for the sake of this fine dream you mean
+to lose the 'prentice fees, do you?'
+
+'Aye, do I,' replied he, 'and you'll thank me for it too, when his
+earlship gives me the thousand pounds.'
+
+'And in the meantime,' asked his wife, 'what is to be done with her
+ladyship? Is she to be kept for looking at?'
+
+'You may look at her as much as you please,' answered her husband, 'but,
+as she will eat, so she must work or starve, and now give me a glass of
+gin and water, for tea is not worth drinking, and I have talked till my
+throat is dry.'
+
+His wile brought out and mixed the liquor, repeating to herself: 'And so
+for this fine castle in the air we are to lose the 'prentice fees.'
+
+Mr. Smith now had a pipe, and sat smoking and drinking, his wife and
+sister talked on indifferent subjects, and the children amused
+themselves by repeatedly coming to me, and saying, 'How do you do, Lady
+Anne? I hope you are very well,' and the like idle expressions. Their
+father laughed, and said they had learned their lesson already, but
+their mother, who was vexed at losing the apprentice fees, after some
+little time told them to be quiet, or she would send them to bed. This
+command released me from their silly questions; they got different
+playthings, and seated themselves on the floor near the fire, while I
+sat on a stool on a distant part of the room, but glad at any rate to be
+free from their questions.
+
+At length nine o'clock came. Mrs. Smith gave each of the children a
+slice of bread-and-butter, and I was in hopes she would have given me
+one too, but I was mistaken. After the children had taken their supper
+she said to me:
+
+'Now, Anne, you will go upstairs with us, and I will show you where you
+are to sleep. You must be up betimes in the morning, and let us see what
+you can do for your living; for, I assure you, we shall not keep you in
+idleness, though you are a lady.'
+
+Without reply, I followed them upstairs into a large back attic, which
+was in the same comfortless state as the shop and parlour. There was
+only one bed in the room, and it had neither curtains or posts: it had
+not been made that day at the least. Mrs. Smith merely laid it smooth,
+while the children took off their clothes, which they threw in heaps
+upon the floor, and then scrambled into bed, without either nightgown or
+night-cap. Mrs. Smith then looked round the room, and said:
+
+'I must now contrive a bed for you, child.'
+
+I looked round, too, but did not see anything that seemed to me likely
+to answer such a purpose. There were, indeed, several heaps of dirty old
+clothes, but they did not appear to me fit for anything but to burn, or
+to send away among the ashes. Mrs. Smith, however, approached one of
+them, and said:
+
+'Here, child, you may pick out plenty of clothes, and spread them upon
+the floor, and I will give you an old blanket to cover you: then, I
+think, you will do very well.'
+
+I went to the heap, and my heart heaved with sickness and disgust as I
+lifted up dirty old coats, trousers, waistcoats, and gowns. It seemed as
+if all the old clothes of the family for the last ten years had been
+collected into this room; and out of this mass of litter I was to make
+my bed. This was, indeed, heart-breaking to me, for all my life I had
+been accustomed to cleanliness, even when in the workhouse; for there,
+though we lived hard and slept hard, yet everything was clean.
+
+'What is the girl thinking about?' said Mrs. Smith angrily. 'Pick out a
+few things and make your bed. I cannot stand waiting upon you for half
+an hour.'
+
+I did not dare to answer, but picked out a few of the things that looked
+the least dirty, and spread them upon the floor. Mrs. Smith then went
+downstairs, and in a few minutes brought me up an old blanket, which she
+threw upon the floor, saying:
+
+'I cannot stay any longer; it is moonlight, and you must make your bed,
+and go to it as you can.'
+
+She then went away, and I was no sooner alone than, seating myself upon
+the floor, I wept most bitterly.
+
+'How unhappy I am!' thought I. 'Every change I make is for the worse.
+When I left my nurse I was worse off at the workhouse; and now I have
+left the workhouse I am worse off here; and my father--I shall never see
+him more, for he will never find me in such a dirty place as this.'
+
+Again I wept, but, being overpowered with sleep, I wrapped the blanket
+round me, and, laying myself upon the old clothes I had spread upon the
+floor, I was soon in a sound sleep.
+
+I was awakened the next morning at an early hour by Mr. Smith knocking
+at the room door, and telling me to make haste down and light the fire.
+This I did, and swept up the parlour, which I made look as tidy as I
+could. After breakfast, of which I had but a very scanty allowance, I
+was ordered into the shop, and Mr. Smith sat down, and began teaching me
+how to make the covers for umbrellas. The shop-door was open, and my
+hands were so cold that I could scarcely hold the needle; but I did as
+well as I was able, and worked till I was called to my dinner, which was
+not till the rest of the family had dined; then all the bits of fat and
+scraps that they did not like were scraped together into a plate for me,
+which, with a very small piece of meat in addition, and a few potatoes,
+was my dinner. Complaint was useless. I had no choice but to eat it or
+to go without. I then returned to my work till the family had taken
+their tea, when a small basinful was given to me, and one slice of
+bread-and-butter--not a slice all round the loaf, but half round it.
+After tea, Mr. Smith went out, and his wife and sister, with two other
+women that came in, spent the evening at cards. At nine o'clock the
+children had their supper and went to bed. I was in hopes that I should
+be allowed to go, too, nine o'clock being the hour when we had been sent
+to bed at the workhouse. I accordingly folded up my work and went into
+the parlour.
+
+'Well, what do you want?' said Mrs. Smith.
+
+'If you please, ma'am, may I have my supper and go to bed?'
+
+'Supper and go to bed!' exclaimed she. 'Pretty talk for a workhouse
+girl! No, miss, you will have no supper. Three meals a day are enough
+for you, I should think; and as for bed, you will not go till your
+master comes home, and that will not be till twelve o'clock. So now, my
+lady, go and sit down to your work again.'
+
+I obeyed in silence, for, indeed, having no choice, I could not do
+otherwise; but, being overpowered with sleep, I soon nodded over my
+work. This Mrs. Smith observed, for, the upper half of the partition
+between the shop and parlour being of glass, she could see all that
+passed, and, seeing me nod, she came out, and shook and beat me till I
+was thoroughly awake. At ten o'clock the shop was shut up by Mrs. Smith
+and her sister, Mrs. Smith telling me that would be my work as soon as I
+was tall enough to put up the shutters. I still kept to my sewing,
+though two or three times I fell asleep over it, from which I was as
+roughly awakened as at the first. At length, to my great relief, twelve
+o'clock struck, the two visitors departed, and soon after Mr. Smith
+knocked at the door. As soon as he came in his wife began scolding him
+for spending his time and money at a public-house, and said that he
+would bring them all to the workhouse. He retorted by saying that she
+lost more money at cards than he spent at the public-house. They then
+quarrelled violently. Blows were given on both sides, when Mr. Smith,
+happening to see me, told me to be gone to bed, or he would knock me
+down. I did not require to be told twice, but, hastening from the room,
+groped my way upstairs (for I was not allowed any candle), where,
+rejoiced at having escaped from the confusion below, I wrapped the
+blanket round me, and, laying myself upon the heap of rubbish, soon fell
+asleep.
+
+The two succeeding days passed nearly as the one I have described. Then
+came Sunday, which, instead of being a day of rest, of worship of the
+great Giver of all good, and a day of innocent recreation, was, in this
+misguided family, a day of complete slavery, for I found that it was the
+only one in the whole week that was devoted to domestic business. The
+whole house was to be cleaned. The dishes, plates, and saucepans, which
+had been used over and over again without washing during the week, were
+now all to be washed. The knives were to be cleaned, the boots and shoes
+to be brushed and blacked, and all this it was expected I should do. I
+did the best I could, and kept on working from six o'clock in the
+morning till nine o'clock at night, without sitting down the whole time,
+except the few minutes when I took my three scanty meals; but now,
+overpowered with fatigue, I fainted away upon the floor.
+
+I believe I continued insensible for rather a long time, for, when I
+began to recover my hearing, I heard Mrs. Smith and the sister talking
+together very earnestly, and as if they were fearful of getting into
+trouble on my account. They were sprinkling me with water, and holding
+hartshorn for me to smell, at the same time conversing in the following
+manner:
+
+'I wish we had not taken this girl,' said Mrs. Smith. 'She has not
+strength to do our work. We cannot afford to keep her for nothing; and
+yet, if she dies, people will say that we killed her. How white she
+looks! I am afraid that she really is dead.'
+
+'Pour a little gin-and-water down her throat,' said the sister. 'If she
+has life in her, that will bring her to; and, to tell you my opinion of
+the matter, I think you half starve her, and overwork her besides. But
+get the gin, or she will be dead to all intents and purposes.'
+
+Mrs. Smith, I suppose (for, though I could hear, I was still unable to
+open my eyes), mixed the liquor, and poured a little of it into my
+mouth. It acted like a cordial upon me, for I was soon able to open my
+eyes, and I found myself supported in the arms of the sister, and Mrs.
+Smith holding the liquor.
+
+'What is the matter with you, child?' said she. 'Are you subject to
+fits?'
+
+Unable to speak, I burst into tears.
+
+'Very well,' said she; 'you are better now. There, empty the cup, and I
+will give you some bread and cheese, and then you shall go to bed.'
+
+I did as I was desired, and, after I had eaten the bread and cheese, I
+staggered, partly from weakness and partly from the effects of the
+liquor I had taken, up into my room, where sleep soon made me forget all
+my sorrows.
+
+The weary week circled round, and the dreaded Sunday again appeared; but
+this day Mrs. Smith obliged the children to help a little in the work.
+What they did was but little, but to me every little was of consequence.
+She also allowed rather more victuals; and at eight o'clock in the
+evening she gave me a good slice of bread and cheese and a teacupful of
+porter, which strengthened me so much that I did all my work, and at ten
+o'clock was allowed to go to bed--my miserable bed, which at first I had
+beheld with so much disgust, was now the only place where I found any
+comfort, for there I was free from scolding and anger. There I slept
+soundly, there I generally forgot all my sorrow, and sometimes even
+dreamed that I had found my father.
+
+
+Chapter V
+
+The return of spring in some measure alleviated my sufferings, for, as
+the weather grew warmer, my hands and feet got better; but, to
+counterbalance this comfort, my quantity of work was increased; and, as
+the days lengthened, I was obliged to rise earlier, for during the three
+months in the middle of summer I rose every morning at four o'clock.
+Being allowed so short a time for rest occasioned me to be continually
+sleepy, so that I could not help sometimes falling asleep over my work,
+even during the day, and this was sure of being the means of my having a
+severe beating from either Mr. Smith or his wife. My health daily
+declined, and I was pleased that it did so, for I was in hopes that I
+should soon die, and be released from all my troubles. Thus passed away
+the summer and autumn. Winter approached. It was now the latter end of
+November, and the weather had set in extremely cold. A heavy fall of
+snow, with a sharp frost, was succeeded by a slight thaw, which made the
+streets worse to walk in than either a severe frost or completely wet,
+when one morning Mrs. Smith told me to take an apple-pie to the baker's.
+I took the pie and went as carefully as I could, that I might not fall,
+or get my feet wet, for my shoes were now so worn out that they did not
+keep my feet from the ground; but in crossing the main street in the
+borough, as I was trying to step over the gutter, which was choked up
+with snow and loose pieces of ice, my foot slipped, and down I fell. The
+pie went into the gutter, where the dish was smashed to pieces, and the
+paste, sugar, and apples mingled with the dirty water. At first I could
+not see, owing to the quantity of muddy water that had splashed up into
+my face; but, having cleared my eyes, I saw an old match-woman cramming
+the pie-crust into her basket, a crowd of ragged children were fishing
+the apples out of the gutter, and a number of men and women, who ought
+to have known better, were laughing at me.
+
+'Pray, ma'am,' said I to the match-woman, 'give me back the dough that I
+may take it home.'
+
+'La, child!' said she, 'what good can a bit of dirty pie-crust do you? I
+am sure your mistress would not use it, and when I have washed off the
+mud it will make me a little dumpling.'
+
+'Pray give it me back,' said I. 'Oh dear! what shall I do? I shall be so
+beat!'
+
+'Beat!' repeated a man, who at that moment came up and lifted me over
+the gutter on to the pavement, 'you will be killed. If I was in your
+place, I would run away. Depend upon it, if you go back, Mother Smith
+would beat you to death.'
+
+This man lived in our street, and knew the Smiths very well. A woman, on
+hearing their name mentioned, looked at me and said: 'Is this Smith's
+girl? Why, they will kill her and eat her for their dinner as she has
+lost them their pie.'
+
+'They would not gain much by that,' said a man, 'for the girl has not a
+pound of flesh upon her bones.'
+
+'Run, I tell you,' said the man who had first spoken to me. 'It is
+impossible for you to be worse off than you are with them; and if they
+catch you, they will be the death of you.'
+
+'Run, girl, run,' was shouted on all sides, 'run, run for your life!'
+called out the boys, who by this time had pretty well picked up all the
+apples. I still stood weeping, not knowing what to do, when a woman
+exclaimed:
+
+'As I am alive, here comes Mother Smith with a great whalebone; now,
+girl, you'll be cut to pieces.'
+
+A general shout of 'Run! run!' from men, women, and children almost
+deafened me. Without stopping to see if Mrs. Smith was really coming, I
+did run as fast as my feet would carry me, till, strength and breath
+failing, I was obliged to slacken my pace. I had by this time run nearly
+the whole length of the Borough, and was almost at London Bridge. I had
+never before seen the Thames, and thought it was the sea. The noise of
+the water-works frightened me, and I hesitated about venturing on the
+bridge; but, seeing others go over, I, with some fear, followed them,
+and thought that I had escaped a great danger when I reached the
+opposite end in safety. But this imaginary fear was but a short
+interruption to my more just one of Mrs. Smith, and I now ventured to
+look back to see if I was pursued. Terror, I suppose, deceived me, for I
+thought I saw her coming with a stick in her hand. I again set off
+running, and, following the stream of the people, was soon in Cheapside.
+My feet were now sore, and cut in several places by the ice; but I still
+hurried on as well as I was able, till I entered St. Paul's Churchyard.
+There, notwithstanding my fear, I stood still to gaze on the immense and
+beautiful building, which I now for the first time beheld, and for some
+minutes I was lost in a dream of astonishment. My dream was soon
+interrupted by the crowds of people who were hurrying on in different
+directions, and who pushed me about without any ceremony, so that I was
+soon obliged to collect my scattered ideas and consider what I was now
+to do. I had left Mr. Smith's, but I had no where else to go to, not a
+friend to receive me, nor a house to shelter me for a single night. As I
+thought of my miserable situation, the tears chased each other down my
+face. Of the great numbers who passed me, no doubt some observed them;
+but they were all too much engaged with their own concerns to make any
+inquiries into the sorrows of a poor little outcast like myself, and I
+passed on unheeded. Going on with the course of the people, I went
+through St. Paul's Churchyard, down Ludgate Hill, along Fleet Street,
+and entered the Strand. By this time I had made the determination of
+endeavouring to find my way back to E----; of going to Mr. Sanders's,
+and telling him how ill I had been treated by the Smiths; for I thought
+that his influence with the overseers would prevent their punishing me,
+as they had threatened, if I did not stay in my place. I therefore now
+began to look down all the streets as I passed them to see if any of
+them led to the country; but on the right hand side they all led to
+other streets. I began to think I should never come to the end of them.
+Being at length arrived opposite to Catharine Street, I looked up to it,
+and saw that it led to a wide space, where there was a great quantity of
+green that looked like small trees. 'Well,' thought I, 'this must be the
+way into the country, and the trees are beginning to grow here, but how
+little they are!'
+
+[Illustration: _The flight over London Bridge.--Page 349._]
+
+I immediately crossed the Strand, went up Catharine Street, and entered
+Covent Garden. Disappointment damped my hopes when I found that this
+great space was surrounded by houses; but there was something so
+pleasing in the appearance of the evergreens that were exposed for sale,
+and the shops looked so pretty, being set out with holly and laurel,
+that I crossed into the market, and walked slowly along, examining the
+countenances of the shopkeepers, to see if there was one that looked
+sufficiently good-natured for me to dare to speak to her. At last I
+asked a woman who kept a fruit and flower shop if she would be so good
+as to direct me the way to E----.
+
+'To E----, child? Why, you are near forty miles off. What do you want
+there?'
+
+'I want to go to Mr. Sanders's,' replied I, 'and to tell him how ill Mr.
+Smith used me, and perhaps he would get me another place, and not let
+the overseers punish me.'
+
+'I don't know what you are talking about, child,' said the woman. 'I
+know nothing of Mr. Sanders nor Mr. Smith. Who are they?'
+
+I looked in surprise at the woman, for I thought it impossible but
+everybody must know Mr. Sanders. I, however, replied that he was the
+clergyman at E----.
+
+'Well,' said she, 'and who are you? A parish 'prentice, I should
+suppose, by your gown.'
+
+'And run away from your master,' said a man who had drawn near,
+attracted by curiosity.
+
+'Come, tell the truth,' said the woman, 'what made you run away? For
+that, I suppose, is the case.'
+
+I related the accident of the pie. The man and several others, who had
+come near to listen, laughed heartily.
+
+'And so,' said he, 'the old woman picked up the pie-crust, did she? She
+was no bad judge. The boys had the apples, the gutter had the sugar,
+you had the mud; and, if you had gone home, I suppose you would have had
+the cane. Ha! ha! ha!'
+
+All the people laughed at this, and I stood crying.
+
+'Don't cry,' said the fruiteress, 'you shall not go back to Smith's
+again. I will see if I cannot get you another place, and a pair of
+stockings and shoes too, for you are barefoot.'
+
+'So she is,' said the man who had laughed so heartily; 'she seems to
+belong to the ragged regiment, to be sure. But how comes it, child, that
+your father and mother did not look after you a little?'
+
+At the mention of these dear names, my tears flowed afresh, and I sobbed
+out that I had no father or mother. The good-natured fruiteress
+absolutely wept; several women, who had come round us, shed tears; and
+the men said it was a great deal too bad that poor orphans should be
+treated so barbarously.
+
+'Well,' said the man who had laughed so much, 'pitying will do her but
+little good without something more substantial, so there's twopence for
+you, child, towards a pair of shoes; and if all these good people will
+give you as much you will soon be shod.'
+
+They did so far follow his example as to give me some a penny and some a
+halfpenny, so that in a short time I had one shilling and sevenpence
+halfpenny. They then went away, the fruiteress assuring them that I
+should have shoes and stockings, and that she had no doubt but that she
+could get me a place at a gardener's in the country where I might be
+comfortable. When the people were all gone, she told me to come into the
+shop and warm myself; but when she looked at my face, scratched with the
+ice and smeared with mud, she said:
+
+'I think a good washing will be the best thing for you, for you cannot
+be made comfortable till you are clean.'
+
+She then gave me soap, water, a towel, and I was not a little glad of
+having the means of washing myself well. She then looked at my feet,
+which were much cut with the ice, and still bleeding.
+
+'Poor child,' said she, 'I think you have suffered enough for breaking a
+pie-dish. However, its done, and you shall soak your feet well with warm
+water; and when my little girls come with my dinner I will see if I
+cannot find you a pair of shoes.'
+
+I accordingly washed my feet well, which was a comfort I had not
+experienced for many months. The good woman threw away my old stockings
+and shoes, and, doubling a piece of carpet under my feet, told me to sit
+by the fire till her children brought the dinner.
+
+Thus refreshed, and seated on a low stool near the fire, I leaned my
+head against the wall, and was soon in a sound sleep. From this I was
+awakened in a little more than half an hour by a murmuring of voices. My
+first idea was that Mrs. Smith had discovered my retreat, and I started
+up in terror, exclaiming:
+
+'Oh, save me from her, for she will kill me!'
+
+'Do not frighten yourself, my dear,' said the fruiteress, 'it is only my
+little girls with the dinner. Come and sit to the table, I dare say you
+are hungry.'
+
+That I really was, but I was so dirty and ragged that I felt ashamed of
+sitting at the table with people who had everything clean and whole upon
+them. I therefore stood back, and, telling my reasons, asked her to let
+me have my dinner upon the stool.
+
+'Take off that ragged apron,' said she, 'and, Sally, my dear, let the
+little girl have yours, and then come and sit down to dinner with us,
+child.'
+
+Sally, a good-natured girl, seemingly about fourteen years old, took off
+her clean coloured apron, which she gave to me, and then, observing my
+naked feet, exclaimed:
+
+'Dear mother, she has no shoes! Shall I take off mine, and let her have
+them?'
+
+'After dinner,' replied her mother, 'you must see if you have not a
+tolerable pair of shoes and stockings that you can give her; but now let
+us sit down, and be thankful that we have a good home to shelter us, and
+victuals to eat, and are not, like this poor child, without either.'
+
+The fruiteress (whose name I found was Williams) then said grace, and we
+all sat down to a comfortable dinner of boiled mutton, turnips, and
+potatoes, to which I was helped very liberally. During the repast the
+children naturally inquired who I was, and why I was there. The mother
+merely answered them as to how I had come; but, when the dinner was
+over, she asked me many questions, such as my name, and what I could
+remember of my parents, etc., and I told them all I could remember, from
+the time of my mother's death to the misfortunes of the present morning,
+taking care, at the same time, not to mention that I had my father's
+portrait in my possession. The good woman shed tears several times, and
+the children seemed much affected.
+
+'Ah, my dears,' said she to them, 'it is well for you that you have a
+mother to take care of you, or you would not be better off than this
+poor child is. I am sure, when your dear father died, I thought we must
+have all gone to the workhouse; but yet I kept striving and striving,
+and Providence has sent us a living. But now you had better take the
+plates and things home, and see if you have not some of your clothes
+that you can spare for this little girl. Jane, you can let her have your
+old bonnet.'
+
+'Yes, mother, and my blue spencer, too, for I have left off wearing it.
+May I bring it?'
+
+'Yes, and make haste, for the poor child is very cold, as you may see,
+without a bit of a handkerchief on her neck this cold weather!'
+
+The children packed up the plates and the remains of the dinner on a
+tray, and took them to a room that their mother had at a small distance,
+where they slept, cooked, etc., as they could not do anything of that
+sort at the shop, on account of the fruit and flowers. The children soon
+returned with a bundle of clothes, which, though old, were by no means
+ragged, and, what was to me a great recommendation, they were all clean.
+From these things Mrs. Williams gave me a tolerably good pair of
+stockings and shoes, a very tidy straw bonnet with black ribbons, and a
+blue cloth spencer. The stockings, shoes, and spencer. I put on
+immediately, and felt so warm and comfortable that I seemed to myself
+quite a different creature. I offered to Mrs. Williams the money that
+had been collected for me in the morning, but she refused it, saying:
+
+'No, my dear, keep your pence; you will want them when you are gone into
+the country, and I cannot think of taking money from a poor friendless
+child like you. I have children of my own, and can feel for other
+people's.'
+
+This good woman then made up the remainder of the things into a small
+bundle, and told me that she should give them to me, and perhaps more,
+when I left her, which would most likely be the following day.
+
+'To-morrow is market morning,' said she. 'Several men that I know will
+be here with their cartloads of vegetables from the country. There is
+one in particular whom I think a very honest-hearted man. He is married,
+and has children of his own, so he may feel for you. I mean to ask him
+if he will try to get you employed at his master's, who has very
+extensive grounds indeed, and raises vegetables, fruits, and flowers for
+the London markets. He keeps more than fifty people employed about his
+grounds, and I think it will be a hard case if he cannot find room for
+you among them. What do you say, my girl? Will you like to be a
+gardener?'
+
+I replied that I did not know how to garden, but, if they would show me,
+I would do all I could to learn.
+
+'That is right,' said she. 'I hope they will engage you, and then, I
+dare say, you will do very well. I shall tell John Davis all your story,
+and that you are to be called Lady Anne, for that, as the good clergyman
+said, will be a more likely way for your father to discover you. It was
+not at all likely that he should find you out in such a dirty place as
+Smith's was, but it is probable that he may find you out at Freeman's
+nursery grounds, for, in the fine weather, he has crowds of quality go
+to look at his flowers and eat his fruit; and then, in the flower
+season, he has exhibitions of prize-tulips and prize carnations, when
+the nobility will go to see them, and there's such a number of carriages
+and curricles, and horses and gigs, and I don't know what besides, that
+the road is choked up like St. James's Street on a Court day; and who
+knows but your father may go among these great people? What do you say
+to that, Lady Anne?'
+
+Her description had brought former scenes to my mind, and the tears came
+into my eyes as I expressed my wish that my father might be among those
+who came to visit the gardens.
+
+The two children stayed all the afternoon, and employed themselves in
+needlework. Several people came and bought fruit and trees, such as
+geraniums, myrtles, and other greenhouse plants, so that Mrs. Williams
+had what she called a good day, and said it would pay her for what she
+was doing for me. About five o'clock we had tea; and, about nine all the
+fruit and shrubs were taken inside the shop, which was then shut up, and
+I accompanied Mrs. Williams and her daughters home to her room. When we
+arrived there, one of the children made a fire, while the other set the
+things upon the table for supper. Mrs. Williams looked round the room
+and said:
+
+'Well, you have been very good girls; everything looks neat and
+comfortable. We will first have our supper, and then we must think how
+we can make up a bed for this little girl.'
+
+I now felt so comfortable that, if I could have stayed with Mrs.
+Williams, I should have been completely happy, and I may say that the
+few hours I spent in her family were like a bright gleam of sunshine
+darting through the gloom that had long surrounded me. After our supper,
+which was bread and broth made from the mutton that was boiled for
+dinner, Mrs. Williams spread a small mattress upon the ground, which,
+with two blankets and a pillow, made me a very good bed. She then, from
+her daughters' clothes, picked me out two pretty good chemises, a
+flannel petticoat, and an old stuff-frock, which still was a very good
+one. After I had put on my clean linen, Mrs. Williams took my old
+clothes, excepting my stays, which I doubled up and laid under my
+pillow, and tying them in a small bundle, opened the window and threw
+them into the street, saying:
+
+'Bad as they are, they may be useful to some poor creature.'
+
+We then retired to bed, and I passed some hours in peaceful repose.
+
+
+Chapter VI
+
+We arose about four o'clock in the morning and went to the market,
+which, at this early hour, was crowded with waggons, carts, and country
+people, who had brought various kinds of vegetables for sale. Mrs.
+Williams and her eldest daughter went among these people to make their
+purchases, while the younger one, Jane, and myself went to the shop,
+which we opened, kindled a fire, and prepared everything for breakfast.
+About eight o'clock Mrs. Williams returned, accompanied by a clean,
+good-looking countryman, to whom she said:
+
+'This, Master Davis, is the little girl I was mentioning to you. I see
+breakfast is ready, so sit down and take a cup of tea with us, and I
+will tell you all I know about her, and how it was she came to me.'
+
+The good man took his seat at the table, and during the time of
+breakfast Mrs. Williams told him all my little story, and concluded by
+urging the request that he would try to get me engaged to work in Mr.
+Freeman's gardens.
+
+'I will do what I can,' said he; 'but this is a bad time of year to take
+on a fresh hand, and the child looks but weakly, and that, you know, is
+against her. However, I'll give her the chance, and take her down with
+me in the cart, and I'll go with her to Mr. Freeman and say what I can
+for her; and if he engages her, why, I'll let her be at my house as one
+of my children--that is, if my dame agrees to it, and belike she may, as
+we have children of our own, and don't know what they may come to; but
+if master will not engage her, why, I must bring her back again next
+market-day, for I cannot afford to keep her for nothing.'
+
+'No, no,' said Mrs. Williams; 'I don't desire that you should. If Mr.
+Freeman will not engage her, bring her back, and I must try to do
+something else for her; but say all you can in her favour. She is a
+friendless child, and you don't know what your own children may come
+to.'
+
+'Very true,' said he. 'I'll do all I can for her. But what be we to call
+her, as she has no right kind of name? Lady Anne is so long that I shall
+never get it all out.'
+
+'It is no longer than Mary Anne,' replied she; 'and I think if you are a
+wise man you will call her by her title and make your children do the
+same. If it should be the means of discovering her father, it might put
+a pretty sum into your pocket.'
+
+'Why, as for that, it might and it might not; but if it is the girl's
+name she shall be called by it, so there's an end to that. And now I
+must away to settle my money matters, and I'll come back for the child
+about eleven o'clock, so good-bye t'ye for the present.'
+
+Away went the man, leaving Mrs. Williams much pleased with the success
+she had met with, as she said she had not a doubt but Mr. Freeman would
+engage me when he knew it was one of his best customers that asked the
+favour. I was much pleased too, for, as I could not stay with Mrs.
+Williams, I did not venture to form a higher wish than to be engaged at
+Mr. Freeman's, for my spirits had been so much broken during my stay at
+Smith's that I no longer dared to indulge the hope of ever finding my
+father.
+
+About eleven o'clock my new friend, John Davis, came for me. Taking my
+little bundle under his arm, he conducted me to his cart. He lifted me
+in, and putting his horses into motion, we went shaking and rattling
+through the streets. This part of the journey was disagreeable enough;
+but when, at Knightsbridge, we entered the turnpike-road, then it began
+to be very pleasant. A complete thaw had succeeded to the frost; the
+fields and hedges looked green, and the air was as soft and mild as if
+it had been spring. I was seated on a truss of hay in the corner of the
+cart, and as we rode slowly along my spirits seemed to revive, and I
+once more indulged the pleasing hope of finding my father; then, again,
+as we advanced, my hope was damped by fear lest Mr. Freeman would not
+engage me, or lest Mrs. Davis should refuse to let me be at her house. I
+continued in this agitation of mind during the time of our little
+journey. At last we stopped at a cottage by the roadside, at a small
+distance from Turnham Green. John Davis lifted me out of the cart and
+led me into the house, where we were received by a woman, whom I
+immediately found was his wife.
+
+'You are late to-day,' said she; 'and, pray, who is this you have
+brought with you?'
+
+He took his seat near the fire (while I remained standing near the
+door), and briefly related my story to her, particularly dwelling on
+Mrs. Williams being such a good customer that he could not refuse to
+bring me.
+
+'Bless thee, John!' she said, as he concluded; 'I wish thee had as much
+wit as good nature, and thee would not have brought another person's
+child to burden us with. Suppose Master Freeman should not engage her,
+what's to be done then?'
+
+'I must take her back again, to be sure; but I don't see why he should
+not engage her--she's a clean, wholesome-looking girl.'
+
+The dame had eyed me pretty well during this conversation. She now gave
+me another scrutinizing gaze, and then said to her husband:
+
+'She may be clean and wholesome enough--I don't say anything against
+that--but she's as white as a curd, and does not look as if she has ever
+had a good meal of victuals in her life.'
+
+'The more's the pity, wife. Then let us give her one. I told you how
+cruelly that umbrella-maker in the borough used her. I should like to
+have the dressing of them with my horsewhip. I would lay it on them with
+goodwill, I give you my word.'
+
+'No fear of that,' replied his wife, 'and they deserve it, too. Come,
+child, don't stand there by the door; here's a seat for you by the fire.
+Dinner will soon be ready, and you shall not starve while you are with
+us, I give you my word; but whether we can let you stay or not is a
+different question.'
+
+Soon after this their three children, two girls and a boy, who were
+employed in the nursery-grounds, came in to dinner. The table was
+quickly spread, and we sat down to an ample repast of good boiled
+potatoes and fried bacon. After we had dined and sat awhile, Mr. Davis
+said to me:
+
+'Come, Miss Minnikin, let us go and see what Master Freeman will say to
+us. Why, wife, I'll be flogged if the girl does not look better already.
+I fancy she'll do credit to our keep.'
+
+'I suppose the child was cold and wanted her dinner,' replied his wife,
+'and now she has had it, of course she looks better. But do you see it
+is past one o'clock? You had better make haste; and you, children, be
+off to your work. You have stayed more than an hour at your dinner.'
+
+We now all departed for Mr. Freeman's, which was about half a quarter of
+a mile distant. The children went to their work in the garden, and Mr.
+Davis led me up to the house. After having given an account to Mr.
+Freeman of the money he had taken at the market that morning, he
+presented me to him, and mentioned Mrs. Williams's request.
+
+'Well, Master Davis,' said Mr. Freeman, 'I do not want another hand, you
+know very well; but Mrs. Williams is, as you say, a very good customer,
+and so, I suppose, we must give the child a trial. Take her to Master
+Joseph, and he will set her about something, and we shall be able to
+judge by Saturday night what she can earn, and you shall be paid what is
+right, for I suppose she will be with you.'
+
+'Yes, sir,' replied Mr. Davis. 'She shall take lot and scot among my own
+children. I shall make no difference.'
+
+'Well, well,' said Mr. Freeman, 'we will do what is right by her and you
+too.'
+
+I was then taken into the grounds to Mr. Joseph, who was the
+head-gardener. We found him working at a flower-bed. When he saw Mr.
+Davis he said:
+
+'Well, friend, what have you there--a lily or a snow-drop?'
+
+'Which you please, Master Joseph,' replied the other. 'She is a little
+girl that I have brought to put under your government.'
+
+He then gave him an account how he had met with me, told him I was an
+Earl's daughter, but had lost my father, and was to be called Lady Anne.
+At this Mr. Joseph laughed, and said 'he had no objection to call me
+Lady Anne, but that he should forget and call me Lady Lily.' After a
+little more talk it was agreed that I should go the following morning,
+as they both said it was too late for me to begin work that day. Mr.
+Davis then conducted me back to his cottage, and having told his wife
+that I was engaged, he went away to his work. The good dame told me that
+I might sit down and rest myself, for she supposed I was tired. I really
+was very tired, but seeing her engaged in mending the family clothes, I
+told her that if she pleased I would help her.
+
+'What!' said she; 'can you sew? I am sure if you can I shall be very
+glad of your help, for my girls never put in a stitch, even for
+themselves, except it is some finery for Sundays, and then they do it
+because I can't do it well enough for them. There, my girl, if you can
+mend me those stockings you'll do me a service. They have holes large
+enough for you to put your hand through. I have sometimes thought that
+if the girls would not mend their stockings themselves they should wear
+them with holes in, and so they would, for never a stitch would they put
+in, and then I am ashamed of seeing them go about in rags, so I keep
+mending for them; but I have so much to do that I can hardly keep them
+tidy.'
+
+I took the stockings and found the dame had described them very
+correctly, for one of the holes was so large that I actually did put my
+hand through it. However, by dint of close application, I mended two
+pairs of them before it was quite dark. I was then obliged to lay aside
+my work, as Mrs. Davis said she should not yet light a candle, and I
+need not do any more work till after tea. My having helped her at the
+needlework put her into high good humour, and she asked me a great many
+questions, and said she was glad that Mr. Freeman had engaged me, and
+that, if I behaved myself properly, I should be very welcome to stay
+with them till I was old enough to take care of myself. These kind
+expressions, so different to any I had heard for a long time, cheered my
+heart. I thanked her most sincerely, and promised to do all I could to
+please her. I then helped her to prepare the tea. Soon after this Mr.
+Davis and the children came in. We sat down to our tea, and during the
+repast the eager questions of the children as to who I was, where I came
+from, and what I was to do, were more attended to than they had been at
+dinner-time. Their father gave them some account of me, and made me
+relate all the particulars of my falling into the kennel with the pie.
+They all laughed heartily, and now that I was out of danger, I could not
+help laughing at it myself.
+
+'That smashing of the pie is a good joke,' said Mr. Davis. 'I should
+like to see how the Smiths looked when you did not go back, and when
+they heard that you had laid their pie in the gutter. I warrant they
+would wear out more pairs of shoes than they would sell in a week in
+running after the old woman and the boys; but I can tell you, girl, it
+was a lucky chance for you that you did tumble down, or else you would
+still have been with them misericating in their dirty garret. By-the-by,
+dame, where's the girl to sleep?'
+
+'That question is sooner asked than answered,' replied his wife. 'You
+know there is not a bit to spare in the house; the children cannot be
+put out of their beds. There is no way that I can see but for her to
+have a blanket and sleep among the hay in the loft over the stable. I
+have slept so many a time when I was a girl, and was none the worse for
+it.'
+
+'I wish you could make room for her in the house,' answered her husband.
+'I do not like the thought of turning her out of the house, as it were.
+Could you not make her up a bed on the floor?'
+
+'No, no,' replied his wife, 'I cannot. I can see no hardship in her
+sleeping upon clean sweet hay, with a good blanket to wrap round her.'
+
+To shorten the contest I said that I thought I could sleep very well
+upon the hay, though I certainly should have preferred sleeping in the
+house, but I was afraid they would quarrel on my account, which would
+have been to my injury; and, at all events, the hay-loft was a better
+place to sleep in than the wretched attic at Mr. Smith's. This point
+being settled, Mr. Davis went out, as he had not yet finished his day's
+work, and it being dark, so that no more work could be done in the
+gardens, the children remained at home.
+
+I had now an opportunity of observing these children. The eldest was a
+girl, seemingly about thirteen, of a healthy, robust appearance, but by
+no means neat in her dress. The second, a girl of eleven, with much the
+same appearance as her sister; and the youngest, a boy, seemingly about
+nine, a chubby, good-natured-looking little fellow, and, I thought, very
+like his father. After the tea-things were put away, the girls brought
+each a little box to the table, in which was a quantity of odd pieces of
+muslin, ribbon, silk, etc., and they passed the evening in making these
+things up into frills and other articles of finery. The boy brought a
+quantity of wood to the further end of the table, and with no tool but a
+knife and a little saw, he employed himself in making little toys. That
+evening he made a dining-table and a chair.
+
+'Tommy is a clever boy,' said the mother to me, seeing I was looking at
+his work. 'He amuses himself of an evening in making these kind of toys,
+and he sells them to young gentlemen and ladies in the neighbourhood,
+and I assure you they like his toys better than what they buy in the
+shops. What was it Master Watson gave you for the little boat, Tommy?'
+
+'Half a crown, mother; but I was two weeks in making it; and last week I
+earned two shillings in making chairs and tables.'
+
+I felt curious to know what Tommy did with his money, as he earned so
+much, but I did not like to ask the question, as that would have been
+rude. However, his mother, who seemed very fond of him, and, I thought,
+justly so, soon told me.
+
+'Tommy earns a great deal of money by this kind of work, which is his
+play,' said she; 'and he gives every farthing of it to his father and
+me. Part of it we lay out in clothes for him, and the rest we are saving
+till he is ten years old, and then he is to go to school, and his own
+money will pay for it. We take what he earns at the grounds for his
+keep, but all that he earns of an evening shall be laid out upon
+himself. I wish my girls were half as industrious.'
+
+'Why, la! mother,' said the eldest, 'you would never let us amuse
+ourselves at all, I believe. We go to the grounds as soon as it is light
+of a morning and work there till it is dark of an evening, and you have
+all the money we earn. I don't know what more you would have.'
+
+'I would have you mend your own clothes, hussy, and not spend all these
+long evenings in making up a parcel of finery that only makes people
+laugh at you.'
+
+I was much afraid that the mother and daughter would have quarrelled,
+but Tommy, showing his workmanship to his mother, took her attention
+from his sister, and thus peace was restored. Mrs. Davis and I spent the
+evening, till nine o'clock, in mending stockings. Then her husband came
+in, and we sat down to our supper of bread and cheese and small beer.
+
+After supper was over Mr. Davis would not allow any more work to be
+done, so we sat and chatted till ten o'clock, which was bedtime. Mrs.
+Davis then gave me a piece of rush-light in a lanthorn, and I was shown
+to the hay-loft, where the fragrant smell of the hay was as refreshing
+as the dirt at Mr. Smith's had been disgusting.
+
+I soon tossed up a sufficient quantity of hay to make myself a soft nice
+bed; and, after having on my knees returned thanks to the Almighty for
+having delivered me from such a state of misery as I had been in, I
+wrapped the blanket around me, and, laying down on the hay, was soon in
+a profound slumber.
+
+
+Chapter VII
+
+I was awakened the next morning about seven o'clock by Mr. Davis, who
+came into the stable below, calling out:
+
+'What! hollo, lassy! Be you awake? Come, it's time to get up. Breakfast
+is almost ready, and you must be in the gardens by eight o'clock.'
+
+I had slept so soundly, and had such an uncommonly long night to what I
+had for the last eight months been accustomed to, that I did not at
+first recollect where I was, but, quickly remembering everything, I
+answered Mr. Davis, and, dressing myself as expeditiously as possible I
+went down. Going into an outhouse, where there was plenty of water, I
+gave myself a good washing, and, having combed my hair with a comb that
+Mrs. Williams had given me, I went into the house and found the family
+just beginning their breakfast.
+
+'I'll be flogged if the girl does not look five pounds better than she
+did yesterday morning, when I first saw her at Mrs. Williams's!' said
+Mr. Davis. 'You have slept well, girl, I'll answer for it.'
+
+'Yes, sir,' I replied. 'I have slept better than I did all the time I
+was at Mr. Smith's.'
+
+'I knew she would sleep well upon the sweet hay,' said Mrs. Davis. 'But,
+come, child, take your breakfast. It is almost time you should be gone.'
+
+Breakfast being soon over, I accompanied the children to the garden,
+where, having conducted me to Mr. Joseph, they went to their own work in
+another part of the grounds.
+
+Mr. Joseph was a grave man, between fifty and sixty years of age. He
+superintended all the work of the garden. Some of the children he
+instructed himself in what they were to do, and some he put under the
+care of other people. He had read a good deal, and understood botany,
+and knew the Latin names of all the trees and plants in the garden. That
+Mr. Freeman had sent me to be under his own care, I was very glad, for
+he seemed a very good-natured man. After a little conversation, in which
+he asked me if I could read, if I knew anything about gardening, and a
+few more of the like questions, he set me to pick the weeds and stones
+out of a bed of pinks, and, having shown me how to do it, he left me to
+myself. I worked diligently at my new employment (frequently
+congratulating myself on the happy change I had made). The clock struck
+twelve, when we all went home to dinner. One hour was allowed for that
+repast. When I returned in the afternoon, Mr. Joseph came to see what I
+had done. He commended my diligence, and, as the first bed was
+tolerably well weeded, he told me to go on to the next, and I was again
+left to myself.
+
+In high spirits at being praised, which was quite a new thing to me, I
+worked on all the afternoon till about four o'clock, when it became too
+dark to distinguish plants from weeds; then, in company with the
+children, I returned home to Davis's cottage. What a delightful contrast
+did this cottage present to the miserable shop and parlour at Smith's!
+There everything was spoiled by dirt and confusion: here all was clean.
+The brick floor was nicely swept and sanded, a cheerful fire blazed in
+the grate, and the tea, with plenty of coarse bread and salt butter, was
+ready upon the table, and the countenances of the family expressed
+health and contentment. After tea was over I again offered my services
+to Mrs. Davis to assist her in her sewing. They were willingly accepted,
+and this evening passed as the former one had done. At ten o'clock I
+again retired to my bed in the loft.
+
+The week passed rapidly away, and I had the pleasure of being very much
+praised by Mr. Joseph, who said I should soon be a better gardener than
+any of the children on the grounds. Saturday night came, and Mr. Davis
+received for my work at the rate of sixpence a day, which, he said, was
+rather more than he had expected. Mrs. Davis was also very well
+contented, and said that what with the money I earned, and what with the
+sewing I did for her of an evening, they should be very well paid for
+me. I was much pleased that my new friends were so well satisfied with
+me, and I looked upon myself as being now settled in a comfortable home.
+I was also upon very good terms with the children. The girls were
+pleased that I mended their clothes for them, which prevented their
+being so much blamed by their mother; and Tommy was so grateful to me
+for having mended some of his that he made me a little box for me to put
+my money in when I had any. I offered the money that had been given to
+me at Covent Garden to Mrs. Davis, but she told me to keep it till I
+wanted a pair of shoes, and that then they would make up the deficiency
+for me. I accordingly put it into my box and deposited it in a safe
+corner of my loft.
+
+Thus passed away the winter months. I was under the care of Mr. Joseph
+more than the other children that were employed about the grounds; for,
+as I could read, he taught me the Latin as well as the English names of
+the different plants and flowers, so that I could bring him any that he
+wanted from either the green or the hothouse. When I had been there two
+months, my wages were raised to four shillings a week; besides that, Mr.
+Joseph often gave me a penny for myself.
+
+The tranquil, and I may say happy, life I now led soon made a great
+alteration in my personal appearance. I grew plump, and by the time the
+month of March came, I had such a colour in my cheeks that Mr. Joseph
+said his lily was turned into a rose.
+
+As the days increased in length, our hours of labour were also
+increased, for we were now on the ground by six in the morning, and did
+not leave work till seven in the evening. This lengthening of the days
+was a great advantage to me. I awoke with the dawn, and generally had a
+full hour to myself before any other part of the family was up. Then I
+used to contemplate the portrait of my dear father, which I used to talk
+to as if it could understand me, to mend my clothes, and to read in old
+school-books of the children's that were lying about, and never looked
+into by their owners. All the books I had ever read were the Bible,
+Testament, Prayer Book, and the spelling-book. The old books belonging
+to the children were an abridgment of the history of England, a small
+geography, and a little book of poetry. I took such pleasure in reading
+these books that I could soon repeat the whole pages of them without a
+single mistake, and the poetry I soon learned from the beginning to the
+ending of the book.
+
+The flower season was now advanced, and ladies and gentlemen came to
+walk in the garden, and to buy flowers. I was always anxious to see
+them, that I might have an opportunity of observing if any of the
+gentlemen resembled my father's portrait. Mr. Joseph, who knew my story,
+was so good-natured as to send me to them with flowers, and, as I was
+always particular to keep myself neat and clean, the ladies were rather
+pleased with my attendance than otherwise. One day, when I carried a
+large quantity of flowers to a party, one of the gentlemen said:
+
+'This little damsel is the finest plant in the whole garden, for she
+carries violets in her eyes and roses upon her cheeks.'
+
+The ladies laughed at what they called his compliment, while I was so
+much abashed that, giving the flowers into the hands of one of the
+ladies, I retreated to a distant part of the garden. After this I made
+my observations at a greater distance, but, alas! among the hundreds who
+visited the garden, I could not discover one who resembled the portrait.
+
+Thus employed, my days flew rapidly past, and I was so happy that,
+unless it had been to discover my father, I did not wish for any change
+in my situation; but clouds of sorrow again gathered around me, and I
+was soon very unhappy. My unhappiness arose from two causes: the first
+was that most of the children envied me on account of the partiality
+shown me by Mr. Joseph, and would jeer at me because I was called Lady
+Anne. Mr. Davis's children were not among the number of these, for, on
+account of my mending their clothes, they were upon very good terms with
+me. The second cause of my unhappiness was of a more serious nature, and
+arose from what I could not have expected, and from what I could not and
+would not alter, as I shall soon explain.
+
+As the summer advanced, such of the children as were turned of twelve
+years of age, and were able to carry a basket upon their heads, were
+sent to town with flowers and fruit, which would have been crushed and
+bruised if sent to town in the cart. Mr. Davis's eldest daughter and
+myself were amongst the number of these.
+
+At first I was much pleased at the thought of this walk, as it was an
+agreeable change from our usual mode of living; the flowers were light
+to carry, and the walk was not so long as to be a fatigue. I also looked
+forward to the pleasure I should have in seeing Mrs. Williams, and
+thanking her for having procured me such a happy situation.
+
+On the appointed morning we left the garden and proceeded to town under
+the guidance of two or three women and one man, who was one of the
+principal gardeners. They also carried their baskets, which were larger
+and heavier laden than ours.
+
+The walk to town was pleasant. We arrived at the market, and in about
+two hours had sold off all our stock. Mrs. Williams bought the contents
+of my basket, and congratulated me on the great improvement in my health
+and appearance.
+
+Richard having paid some fees which were customary for the privilege of
+standing in the market, we took up our baskets and began to walk
+homeward. We had not gone far when Richard entered a public-house, the
+women and children followed, I, of course, did the same. We went into a
+room where there was no one but ourselves; there we all had to give up
+our money to Richard, which he counted over. He took out two shillings
+to be spent in the house, one shilling for himself, ninepence for each
+of the women, and sixpence apiece for the children; then, putting the
+remainder of the money together, said that was for the master. I was so
+astonished at this proceeding that I asked him what he meant by it. He
+laughed at me, and said it was a general rule among themselves to make a
+little deduction on market-days to pay them for the trouble of coming to
+town.
+
+'I thought,' said I, 'that Mr. Freeman paid us for our work on Saturday
+night. Does he know that you take this money?'
+
+'Know it, blockhead! no. And it will be the worse for you if you tell
+him. Come, take your sixpence, and think yourself well off that we let
+you share with us.'
+
+'I do not want the sixpence,' said I, 'unless it is to give it to Mr.
+Freeman, for it is his money, and I will not keep it.'
+
+'Lady Anne,' said Susan Davis, 'do not be a simpleton. Take the money,
+and do not pretend to more honesty than the rest of us.'
+
+'I cannot take the money,' said I. 'Mr. Sanders told me never to take
+other people's property, but always to do as I would be done by.'
+
+'You shall not have the money,' said Richard, at the same time giving me
+a violent slap across the shoulders. 'Mr. Sanders was a canting old
+Methodist, and you are like him. But take care, if you say a word of
+what has passed I will be the death of you.'
+
+The women and children were also in a violent rage, and began beating me
+and pulling my hair, so that I was afraid they would really kill me, and
+I cried out, begging them not to beat me, and that I would not tell.
+
+'Let her alone,' said Susan Davis; 'she will not tell, I'll answer for
+her. I'll talk to her when we are at home; and, I dare say, next
+market-day, she will do as we do.'
+
+'Aye, let her alone,' said Richard, 'or Joseph will find out that we
+have been thumping her. She has a pretty swelled face to show. But mind,
+girl, if you say a word of what has passed I'll tie you neck and heels,
+and throw you into a pond.'
+
+I was obliged to renew my promise of secrecy, and soon after we left the
+house.
+
+When we came to town in the morning the distance had appeared as nothing
+to me, my heart was then so light; but now I felt so wretched that the
+distance seemed more than double, the empty basket felt so heavy on my
+head, and I felt myself like a guilty culprit who had robbed her master.
+
+When we arrived at the grounds Richard went to give an account of the
+morning's sale, and what money he thought proper, to his master. The
+women and children went to their work in different parts of the garden,
+and I also concealed myself from Mr. Joseph's sight, lest he should see
+that I had been in tears.
+
+In the afternoon he called for me, and I tremblingly obeyed his summons.
+
+'Why, Lady Anne, how is this?' said he. 'Why do you not like to come to
+me as usual? How did you like your walk this morning? But what is the
+matter? You have been crying.'
+
+'I am so tired,' I replied, 'and the basket was heavy.'
+
+'That is not all,' said he, regarding me very earnestly; 'somebody has
+been beating you, for you have the marks of the blows upon your face and
+shoulders. Who was it?'
+
+'Pray, sir, do not ask me,' said I; 'for if I tell you I shall be beat
+more.'
+
+'Well, well,' said he, 'I will not ask you. I have long seen that the
+girls envied you. They think that I favour you, and, if I do, it is
+their own fault. There is not one among them that, if I sent to the
+greenhouse for a plant, but will either come back without it, or bring
+me a wrong one, though they have all been sent to school, and might have
+learned to read if they would. There are Davis's two daughters: Mr.
+Freeman paid for their schooling for two years, yet neither of them can
+read the names of the plants. But you are envied because I employ you in
+doing what they cannot do. Well, never mind, Rose, you shall not go to
+town any more with them, but stay here with me, and attend to the ladies
+and gentlemen.'
+
+I was glad to hear Mr. Joseph say this, for I was in hopes I should be
+free from any further trouble, and be as happy as I had been; but sorrow
+had again burst upon me like a storm, and I was not yet to be rescued
+from its fury.
+
+When we went home at night, Susan took an opportunity when her father
+was out of the house to tell her mother the adventures of the morning,
+with some alterations of her own; and I was astonished to hear her
+mother defend the conduct of Richard and the others, and blame me for
+not joining the robbery; and, when I would not say that the next time we
+went to town (for I did not dare to tell them that I was not to go any
+more) I would take my share in the plunder, she was completely in a
+rage, and kept repeating that there was no harm in taking the money. At
+last I ventured to say:
+
+'Would you think it right of me, ma'am, if I was to rob _you_?'
+
+'To rob _me_, child! No. But that is quite a different thing. To rob
+_me_! No. You would be the most ungrateful creature that ever lived if
+you did. I took you in, and sheltered you when you had not a hole to put
+your head in, nor a morsel of victuals to eat.'
+
+'You did, ma'am,' I replied; 'and I would do anything I could to serve
+you. I would not rob nor injure you upon any account. And I cannot rob
+Mr. Freeman, for he gave me employment when I had none, and he pays me
+six shillings a week. How ungrateful I should be if I could rob him. I
+cannot do it; indeed, I cannot.'
+
+'Take your supper and go to bed,' said Mrs. Davis. 'I cannot argue with
+you, but I know that you are a very foolish child.'
+
+I did as I was ordered, and retired to my loft, and happy should I have
+been if this disagreeable business ended there, but a few evenings
+after, just before we left the gardens, I went to put a knife into a
+basket that belonged to Susan, and, to my surprise and grief, found that
+it concealed five fine peaches in it. I trembled so when I saw them that
+I could scarcely cover them over again, and soon after, as we were
+walking home, with great civility and humility I ventured to remonstrate
+with her on the great impropriety, and indeed danger, of her robbing the
+garden.
+
+'What business have you to look into my basket?' said she. 'If you do
+not choose to take a little fruit yourself you have no right to meddle
+with them that do; however, I shall tell mother, and I hope she'll turn
+you into the wide world again as you were when you came to us.'
+
+When we arrived at home Mr. Davis was in the house, and Susan did not
+choose to say anything till he went out; she then opened the basket,
+showed the peaches to her mother, and made a heavy complaint of my
+impertinence in telling her she ought not to take them, that it was
+stealing, and would, if discovered, most likely be the cause of her
+being discharged from the garden.
+
+Mrs. Davis was in such a passion that she struck me several times, and
+said I should be the cause of her children being turned out of work.
+
+'Don't say me, mother,' said Tommy, 'for I shall not steal. The
+Catechism says I am to keep my hands from picking and stealing, and
+father says if I steal I shall come to be hanged, so that you may depend
+upon it I shall not steal, and I wish sisters would not.'
+
+'You are a little blockhead,' replied his mother; 'and as for Lady Anne,
+if she does not mind what she is about I shall turn her out of doors,
+and she may go a-begging.'
+
+The peaches were then put out of sight. Soon after this Mr. Davis came
+in; we had our supper, and at ten o'clock went to bed.
+
+In the course of the following day the peaches were missed at the
+garden, for Mr. Freeman had counted the fruit on some of the principal
+trees, and this day he found that three peaches had been taken from one
+tree and two from another. We were all questioned about it, and all our
+baskets were examined, but as all denied the theft and no fruit could be
+found, no one could be charged with it. Mr. Freeman was very angry on
+this occasion, as he well might, and ordered Mr. Joseph to keep a strict
+watch over all the workpeople, as he was determined to make an example
+of whoever should be detected robbing him, let it be who it might. I was
+anxious to know what the children did with the fruit, as I never saw
+them eating it, and I soon found that when their father was out of the
+house (for they did not dare to let him know of their ill practices) the
+fruit was exposed in the window for sale. Their father having a small
+garden, in which were a few fruit trees, served as an excuse for all the
+fruit they had to sell, and thus they contrived to deceive their father
+and rob their master.
+
+The strict watch kept by Mr. Joseph, and some of the honest people in
+the garden, prevented any fruit being taken for some time, but the plum
+season coming on, and the plums on a tree not being so easily counted,
+nor so soon missed, as peaches, the children again ventured to take a
+few, and their father having two fine trees of the kind in his garden,
+if once the plums could be got home there was no likelihood of their
+being detected.
+
+I did not watch the children, nor wish to know anything of what they did
+in the garden, yet somehow it seemed as if I was always to find them out
+in their thefts, for I one day suddenly came upon them just as they were
+cramming about a dozen fine Orlean plums into their pockets. I covered
+my face with my hands, and said:
+
+'Oh, why will you do so? We shall all be discharged.'
+
+'_You_ shall be discharged,' said Susan, darting at me and slapping me
+with all her strength. 'What business have you to watch us? This is the
+first bit of fruit we have taken since those nasty peaches, and now, I
+suppose, you will go and tell.'
+
+'No, I shall not,' replied I; 'but I wish you would not take any more
+fruit. You know what Mr. Freeman said.'
+
+'Yes, and you shall know what my mother will say. I am not to be
+followed about and watched, and lose my place, for a tell-tale
+beggar-girl.'
+
+I again assured her that I should not tell, and went away to a distant
+part of the garden, my mind being very unhappy, for I thought that if
+these thefts were discovered we should all be discharged, and again I
+thought that perhaps I was doing very wrong in concealing them, but then
+how could I bring people who were so kind to me into disgrace, and even
+into want of bread? I did not know what to do, but, after much
+considering in my own mind, I determined that when Saturday night came
+to ask Mr. Joseph to give me only five shillings, and not to ask me any
+questions, for I thought that the odd shilling would partly pay for the
+fruit Mr. Davis's children took. Having made this determination I felt
+rather happier, though I dreaded the resentment of Mrs. Davis and the
+children. When night came we went home together, the children not
+speaking to me once the whole way. When we arrived at the house Mr.
+Davis was out, and Susan asked her mother to give Tommy his supper, as
+she had something to say to her. The mother, who saw something
+particular was the matter, hurried the child to bed, while I sat on a
+chair near the door sick at my very heart. No sooner had her brother
+left the room than Susan told of the discovery of the plums, with many
+additions of her own. Mrs. Davis was in such a passion that she could
+scarcely speak for two or three minutes; she seized me by the arm, and
+shook me violently.
+
+'I will put a stop to this,' said she as soon as she had recovered her
+breath. 'You shall not stay here to be the ruin of my children, you
+ungrateful creature. Don't we feed you and clothe you? Don't you have
+all the children's old clothes, and don't you mend them up and make them
+look so smart that you look as well dressed as they do, though their
+clothes are new and yours are old? Oh, you ungrateful creature. You
+would ruin us all for our kindness to you.'
+
+She then ran over the affair of the peaches, and of my refusing to take
+the money at the market, reproaching me at every sentence, till she
+increased her anger to such degree that she seemed to lose her reason,
+and, again seizing me by the arm, she said she would give me cause to
+repent of my ingratitude to the latest moment of my life, when at the
+instant I expected to be dashed to the ground, to her great dismay, and
+to my great relief, an inner door opened, and her husband entered the
+room.
+
+'Stop, mistress,' said he, 'do not dare to hurt that child. I came in by
+the wash-house, and have heard all Suke's story, and have heard who
+stole the peaches. Little did I think, when there was such a piece of
+work about them, that my own children were the thieves, and little did I
+think, when Suke was so pleased at going to market, that it was because
+she was to go shares with a parcel of thieves in robbing her master.'
+
+'Now, John,' said his wife, 'how can you talk so? What harm is there in
+the children taking a few pence apiece? They have more trouble when they
+go to town, and they ought to be paid for it. You know that all the
+workpeople make a market-penny.'
+
+'I know no such thing,' replied her husband. 'They are allowed money for
+refreshment when they go to town, and if they take more than the master
+allows I say that they cheat him, but I'll put a stop to Suke's tricks,
+for she shall not go to town any more. I shall speak to Mr. Joseph about
+that.'
+
+'Why, surely you are not going to tell him that they divided a few pence
+among them.'
+
+'No, wife, I am not, but I shall ask him not to let her leave the
+garden, for that I don't think she is steady enough to be sent to town
+yet. And now, you two girls, hear what I say to you. Every one of those
+plums must be returned. You must take all of them back again, and lay
+them under the trees that you took them from, and next time that I know
+you to steal a single thing, aye, if its only a single plum, I'll
+horsewhip you while I can stand over you.'
+
+The father was now silent, the two girls sat weeping, and the mother,
+who had been very much agitated, first by anger and then by fear, threw
+herself into a chair, and burst into a violent passion of tears. Mr.
+Davis walked two or three times across the floor, and then stopping,
+said:
+
+'Now what's the use of crying and taking on in this manner? Is it not as
+easy to be honest as to be thieves? Oh, wife, wife, you do not consider
+what a bad course our girls have begun in. They have begun with trifles,
+but they will go on till they take something great, and then they will
+either be transported or hung, and that will break our hearts, and bring
+our grey hairs with sorrow to the grave.'
+
+'Oh, John, do not talk so,' said Mrs. Davis; 'I cannot bear to hear you
+talk about the grave. The girls shall not steal any more. If they bring
+home any more fruit I will not put it into the window, nor sell it, so
+now let us have done with it, and let us be friends again.'
+
+'Aye, let us be friends, with all my heart,' said Mr. Davis, taking his
+wife's hand, 'and I hope nothing of this sort will ever happen again.
+Now, children, leave off crying, and be good girls, and remember that
+honesty is the best policy, for if you follow bad practices you will
+also be poor and despised.'
+
+Soon after this we had our supper, which we took nearly in silence, for
+we were all of us in grief, though from different causes, and from some
+angry glances cast at me by Mrs. Davis I saw I had yet more to dread
+from her resentment. When I was going to bed Mr. Davis said:
+'Good-night, Lady Anne, do not cry; I am not angry with you. You are a
+good girl. I wish my own children were as honest.'
+
+Mrs. Davis and the girls also wished me good-night, but in such a cold,
+constrained manner that I trembled for what might be the consequences of
+their anger. When I reached my loft I gazed with tears upon my father's
+picture, and earnestly did I wish and pray that I might at some time be
+restored to his protection. I then retired to my bed among the hay, and
+there, for the first time since I had been in the family, I wept myself
+to sleep.
+
+Early in the morning I went to the garden. Mrs. Davis's children did not
+choose to walk with me, so I went alone. When I returned home to
+breakfast (it being market-day Mr. Davis was gone to town) his wife and
+daughters did not speak to me once during the meal, excepting to tell me
+that the plums were laid under the trees. I finished my breakfast as
+soon as I could and returned to my work, grieved that I had lost the
+goodwill of people who were really kind to me, but whose practices were
+such as I could not follow. The hour of dinner came, and with a heavy
+heart I went to the cottage, dreading the angry looks, and perhaps
+reproaches, of Mrs. Davis. When I arrived there I found the brother and
+sister-in-law of Mrs. Davis were paying her a visit. I had seen these
+people once before, and soon after I came into the family; they were
+pedlars, and traversed the county from one end of it to the other. The
+man carried a large pack filled with linens, muslins, stuffs, and many
+other articles for clothing; his wife carried two boxes, with trinkets,
+lace, millinery, and a great variety of light goods. When I entered the
+room they turned their eyes upon me as if I had been the subject of
+their conversation, which I quickly found had been the case, for Mrs.
+Davis said to them:
+
+'That is the girl I have been telling you of. She would be of great use
+to you, for she could carry one of the boxes, and in my house she is of
+no use in the world, but quite a burden to us, and she makes quarrels
+between my husband and me, for you know that Davis is so particular, and
+has such odd notions about honesty, that he seems to think it next thing
+to murder to take a bit of fruit or a sixpence belonging to Mr. Freeman.
+You never heard such a piece of work as we had last night because the
+girls had taken a few plums.'
+
+She then in her own way told her brother of the keeping back part of the
+market-money and of the peaches. I was surprised that she was not
+ashamed of telling such things, but she was not, and her brother only
+laughed at them, and said that honesty was very well in its place, but
+that it was ridiculous to carry it so far.'
+
+'But, however,' said he, 'I shall have no objection to Lady Anne (I
+think you call her) being very honest with us. I shall not be afraid of
+her robbing me.'
+
+'No, indeed,' replied his sister; 'you will have no cause. You might
+trust her with your pack and boxes all open; she would not rob you of a
+farthing's worth; she is only _too_ honest, that is her fault.'
+
+'And it is a fault that perhaps I can cure her of,' returned her
+brother. 'But she has only been used to gardening. She will be of very
+little use to us, for we do not want a girl merely to carry a band-box.'
+
+'She can work very well at her needle,' quickly answered his sister. 'It
+is unknown the sewing she has done for me since she has been here. I
+have never had the children so tidy in my life as since she has been
+with us. I shall miss her help very much, that I know I shall.'
+
+'Do not let me go,' said I, for I was really frightened at the thought
+of being sent away with Mr. Sharpley and his wife. 'Pray let me stay. I
+will work so hard; I will do everything I can to please you.'
+
+'Will you promise to take a little fruit, as the others do, and not say
+anything when you see my children take some, and to take a market-penny
+when you can get it?' answered Mrs. Davis. 'Promise me that, and you
+shall stay.'
+
+'I cannot promise it,' said I, bursting into tears, 'for I must not
+steal.'
+
+'Very well, then, you shall go,' returned she. 'It is entirely your own
+fault. I had no wish to part with you, but I cannot keep you to turn my
+children out of bread.'
+
+'Lady Anne is a _nonsuch_ of honesty,' said Mr. Sharpley; 'but I warrant
+she will tell a different tale by this time twelvemonths. What say you,
+wife? Shall we take her or not?'
+
+'As she can work at her needle,' replied Mrs. Sharpley, 'suppose we give
+her a trial for a few months. If she does not do for us, we can bring
+her back again; and as for her honesty, that will not hurt us.'
+
+'Well, then, I suppose it is a bargain,' said Mr. Sharpley, 'so, my
+girl, if you have any better clothes make haste and put them on; and,
+sister, let us have a bit of dinner, as I want to be going.'
+
+'And I want you gone,' replied his sister, 'for if my good man comes
+home before you are off, it's ten to one but he knocks all the business
+on the head, and I shall have the girl on my hands again. Lady Anne,
+make haste; and you, Suke, look after her a little.'
+
+This command to Susan to watch me prevented my following a plan I had
+just formed, which was to run back to the garden and tell Mr. Joseph
+that they were going to send me away against my will; but I suppose they
+were afraid I should do so, for Susan did not leave me a single moment
+till I was washed and dressed. I then entered the room where they all
+were, and presented myself before them, with the tears running down my
+face.
+
+'She is a genteel-looking child,' said Mrs. Sharpley; 'but what are you
+crying for, simpleton? We shall not hurt you, and you need not steal
+unless you like, so pray set your heart at ease.'
+
+I did try to check my tears, for I considered that I could never be
+happy at the cottage any more, though it grieved me to the heart to part
+with people who had been so kind to me, especially Mr. Joseph, Mr.
+Davis, and little Tommy, who was gone to town with his father; and these
+I was obliged to leave, without so much as saying _good-bye_ to them. I
+was not able to eat a morsel of dinner, and Mr. and Mrs. Sharpley having
+finished theirs, we rose up to depart. I sobbed so that I could not
+speak. Mrs. Davis and the girls seemed a little affected. They shook
+hands with me, wished me well, and said they hoped I should grow wiser
+in time; then, with a band-box before me, that was fastened by a strap
+that went over my shoulders, I left the cottage, following my new master
+and mistress.
+
+
+Chapter VIII
+
+Being thus turned out of the cottage, where I had once been so happy, I
+followed the footsteps of Mr. and Mrs. Sharpley, frequently looking back
+to see if I could discover Mr. Davis and his cart coming from town,
+which, if I had, I should certainly have run back, told him what had
+passed, and asked him to take me back to Mrs. Williams, instead of
+sending me away with strangers. But no cart came in view, and a turning
+in the road soon hid even the cottage from my sight. I then walked
+pensively forward, meditating on my own unhappy fate, and comparing it
+with that of other children who were blessed with parents and relations.
+Mr. and Mrs. Sharpley had frequently looked back, as if to see that I
+followed them, but--here the path became wider--they told me to come and
+walk between them. I did so, and they then asked me a great many
+questions respecting my story, all of which I was obliged to answer, so
+that they soon knew every particular, excepting my having my father's
+picture, which I took care not to give the least hint of. They then
+asked me about my age, and, as I could not answer them exactly, they
+calculated it as well as they could from circumstances. Supposing I was
+five years old at the time of my mother's death, as I was seven years at
+E----, I must have been twelve years old the November before I went to
+the Smiths, thirteen last November, when I ran away from them; and
+should be fourteen next November. It was now the beginning of September.
+This point being settled, they began talking of other things, told me
+what a pleasant life I should lead with them, that all my employment
+would be to carry a light band-box during the days, and in the evenings,
+when they arrived at the inn where they were to pass the night, to work
+at my needle. To this I had no objection, and began to think I should
+not be so unhappy as I had at first supposed; but the idea of their
+stealing still predominated in my mind, though I could not imagine how
+they could do it, as the goods they carried were their own, and they
+could not rob themselves, and I was at a loss to think how they could
+commit theft. Simpleton that I was, I never thought that they could rob
+other people.
+
+As we proceeded, they told me the names of the different places we
+passed through. They stopped at all the genteel houses, and many of the
+farmhouses, to ask them if they wanted any goods. Several bought a good
+many things of them; others would scarcely give them an answer, but
+almost shut their doors in our faces. Thus passed away several hours.
+The shades of evening were beginning to fall, and I was very weary with
+walking so much, when we entered a large town, where they told me we
+should pass the night. We went to a small inn, which they said was the
+house where they always slept when they came to this town. We were shown
+to a room that they called their own, as it was kept entirely for their
+use. Mrs. Sharpley ordered tea, and her husband said to her:
+
+'Come, my dear, we must see if we have a remnant of some stuff to make a
+dress for Lady Anne. She is very well dressed for a gardener's girl, but
+not smart enough for us.'
+
+The pack was then opened, and they picked out the remains of a piece of
+very pretty slate-coloured stuff sufficiently large to make me a dress.
+
+'Now,' said Mrs. Sharpley, 'after tea we must stitch away, for your
+dress must be made this night before you go to bed.'
+
+The tea was soon brought in, and we all sat down to it with a good
+appetite, for it was now past seven o'clock, and we had not tasted
+anything but a little porter since we dined, which was between twelve
+and one o'clock. After tea Mr. Sharpley went out. His wife very
+expeditiously cut out my dress, and gave me the skirt to make, while she
+sat down to make the body and sleeves. I had been used to do a great
+deal of sewing, and was not slow at my needle; but I think I never in my
+life had worked so fast as I did that evening; and, as for Mrs.
+Sharpley, she worked so quick that her hand seemed absolutely to fly to
+and from the work. She said very little to me, except occasionally a few
+words of commendation, such as:
+
+'That is a good girl! I see you will do very well. If you are diligent
+you shall have no cause to repent having come with us.'
+
+Thus encouraged, I worked with unabated diligence till about ten
+o'clock, when Mr. Sharpley returned, and soon after our supper,
+consisting of mutton-chops and potatoes, was brought up. After supper
+Mrs. Sharpley and I returned to our work, and Mr. Sharpley read aloud
+from a newspaper. Thus passed the time, till a few minutes after twelve,
+when my dress was finished, excepting a little trimming of ribbon, which
+Mrs. Sharpley said might be put on another night. It was tried on,
+fitted me extremely well, and Mr. Sharpley said that if I was properly
+dressed I might pass, not only for an Earl's daughter, but a Duke's
+daughter.
+
+'But, Lady Anne,' said he very seriously, 'I would advise you to put all
+these fine thoughts out of your head, for, though I will not call your
+mother an impostor, as the people of E---- did, yet I must say that, if
+she had been an Earl's lady, she would hardly have been travelling in a
+post-chaise without an attendant. It seems to me that, whatever your
+father was, he had left your mother, and that she was returning to her
+own friends to live with them, when she was taken ill at E----and died.
+If this is the case, which appears to me most likely, your father, if he
+was to see you, would not own you, nor give himself the least trouble
+about you; so I wish you to put all high thoughts out of your head, give
+your mind entirely to our business, and we will reward you according to
+your diligence.'
+
+These words brought tears into my eyes, for, though in my own mind I
+feared I should never find my father, yet to hear another person say
+that I should not seemed to make it so certain that my heart appeared to
+die at the thought; and then, again, to hear it said that my father had
+deserted us--that if he was to see me he would not own me--oh! could
+that be possible? Yet how was it that I was really left a wanderer in
+the wide world? That I knew not, but the certainty that I was so made me
+weep bitterly. Calming my agitation as much as I was able, I promised to
+be diligent in their business, and to obey them in everything that I
+could. They both laughed, and said I was terribly afraid they should
+want me to steal. Mrs. Sharpley then showed me to a bed in a closet
+adjoining their room, and the oblivion of sleep soon made me forget all
+that had passed the preceding day.
+
+The next morning we breakfasted early, and then left the inn. In going
+through the town Mrs. Sharpley went into a shop, where she bought me a
+very pretty straw hat trimmed with blue ribbons. My dress was now
+completely different to what it had been the day before, I now having a
+new hat, new dress, and a pretty silk handkerchief pinned over my
+shoulders. The purchase being made, my old bonnet was thrown down in the
+street, for the benefit of whoever chose to pick it up. We then
+proceeded on our way, and soon left the town. This day was passed nearly
+as the former one had been, some people buying, and others not even
+looking at the goods. In the evening when we arrived at our inn, Mr.
+Sharpley went out while the tea was being prepared, and returned in
+little more than half an hour. We then had tea, after which he went out
+again. Mrs. Sharpley then employed herself in making caps and frills to
+sell, and I passed the evening in putting the trimming on to my dress. I
+now began to feel more reconciled to my new mode of life. Mr. and Mrs.
+Sharpley were good-natured, and certainly treated me with kindness, and
+I thought, if they did not want me to steal, I might be very comfortable
+with them. The week passed away. Saturday night came, and they gave me
+sixpence, telling me they should give me as much every week, so long as
+I continued to behave well. Weeks thus passed on. Our days were employed
+in walking from place to place, endeavouring to sell the goods, and our
+evenings in making up caps, frills, etc., for sale, and I soon became so
+expert in making them that they increased my weekly money from sixpence
+to a shilling. This money was in reality but of very little use to
+myself, for, as I had everything provided for me, I did not want it on
+my own account; but, then, it was a source of very great pleasure to
+me, as it enabled me to relieve the distress of many poor objects that
+I met upon the road, whose pale faces told, without their speaking it,
+that they were in want of bread.
+
+Mr. Sharpley did not go out every evening, but would sometimes spend it
+with us, and then he would read either the daily paper or some
+entertaining book, and when we had a good stock of caps and frills made
+up they would allow me to read books for my own amusement. Of these, as
+they sold them, they had a great variety, and thus circumstanced my life
+passed very pleasantly. Of _stealing_ I never heard a word, and I began
+to think they had only talked of it to frighten me, but the time now
+came when I was to be undeceived. One evening when we arrived at our
+inn, before we sat down to tea, Mr. Sharpley took six silver teaspoons
+and a pair of sugar-tongs out of his pocket, and, laying them on the
+table, asked me what I thought he had given for them. As I did not know
+the value of such things it was impossible for me to guess, and after
+some time he said:
+
+'Why, then, to tell you the truth, I--stole them.'
+
+'Stole them!' I exclaimed with horror. 'How could you do so? Who did you
+steal them from?'
+
+'I _took_ them, for we do not generally say _stole_, from the farmer's
+wife who bought the stuff gowns and two caps of us this afternoon.'
+
+I was so shocked at the ingratitude and baseness of the action that I
+burst into tears.
+
+'You are a silly girl to cry, Lady Anne,' said he. 'These are by no
+means the first things I have taken since you have been out with us, for
+of an evening when I go out it is generally to some friend of mine, who
+takes this kind of goods off my hands, and gives me money instead of
+them. When once they are gone I am in no danger, for if I was to be
+taken up, and my pack searched, nothing could be found, so I should be
+set at liberty again.'
+
+'But,' said I, 'suppose you were to be taken up before you had parted
+with them, and they were to be found in your possession, what would be
+done to you then?'
+
+'I should most likely be hung,' replied he very calmly.
+
+'Be hung!' I exclaimed. 'But why do you do it? Do you not get enough
+money to live upon from the things you sell? You know it is a very
+wicked thing to steal. You know the Commandment says "Thou shalt not
+steal."'
+
+'Very true, Lady Anne,' said he, laughing. 'It would be a good thing for
+the world if we were all as innocent and as well disposed as you are. I
+will not argue the subject any further with you now, but I wish, by
+degrees, to bring you into our business, and when you will take things
+as well as us, you shall have half for yourself.'
+
+'Well, sir,' I replied, 'I would sooner be as poor and as miserable as I
+was at Mr. Smith's than I would be a thief.'
+
+No more was at that time said on the subject, but Mr. Sharpley no longer
+made a secret of his evil practices, and I was sorry to observe that
+scarcely a day passed without his taking something from the people who
+bought of him. His wife, I do believe, if she had not been influenced by
+him, would have been very honest; indeed, I never knew her to take
+anything herself, and sometimes, when he laid his plunder before her,
+she would say:
+
+'Ah, James, I am afraid these tricks of yours will one day bring you to
+the gallows.'
+
+Several more weeks thus passed away, and I have no cause of complaint
+against them, except their taking other peoples' property, for they were
+good-natured, paid very honestly for everything they had at the inns,
+and often gave money to poor people they met on the roads.
+
+Often of an evening Mr. Sharpley would amuse himself with what he called
+a mock trial--that is, he would make believe he had been taken up for
+theft, and I was to be examined before a judge to see if I had assisted
+him or knew anything about it; then he sat as judge, and I was always to
+deny having any knowledge of the theft, and when I did not answer right
+Mrs. Sharpley said what I was to say. I always disliked these trials,
+and could never go through them without tears, for I was always afraid
+they would one day be a reality.
+
+The winter months passed away, and spring again returned. One day, in
+the month of April, as we were entering a large town, we were met by
+such a vast crowd of people that we were obliged to stand up against the
+houses to be out of the way while it passed. On Mr. Sharpley inquiring
+what was the matter, he was told it was a man going to be hung for
+privately stealing in a dwelling-house. My heart seemed to die within me
+when I heard the answer, for I thought that it would very likely one day
+be our own case. When we reached the inn where we were to dine, throwing
+myself into a chair I covered my face with a handkerchief and wept most
+bitterly.
+
+'What is the matter?' said Mr. Sharpley. 'Are you ill?'
+
+'No,' I replied; 'but that poor man was going to be hung. Oh, Mr.
+Sharpley, we may some day be taken up and be hung too. I do wish that
+you would be honest. Do not give me any more money, but keep it instead
+of stealing, and I have ten shillings that I will give you back again.'
+
+'Indeed, James,' said his wife, 'I wish you would leave off _taking_.
+When you read of trials and executions in the newspapers, and when we
+met that poor man to-day you don't know how I felt. I am very much
+afraid, as well as Lady Anne, that we shall come to an untimely end.'
+
+'You and Lady Anne are enough to drive a man mad,' replied her husband;
+'but, however, I will make this bargain with you both. Whenever it
+happens that I am taken up for theft, and am brought to within an inch
+of my life, so that there seems no chance of escaping, then, if any
+unforeseen circumstance arises and delivers me from the danger, then, I
+give you my word, I swear to you, that from that day forward I will be
+an honest man, and content myself with the profits of my trade.'
+
+'Then the sooner it happens the better,' said his wife, 'for I am sick
+of the life of jeopardy we lead.'
+
+One would have thought that from the dreadful example that passed before
+his eyes, and from what his wife said to him, that Mr. Sharpley would in
+some degree have left off his bad practices; but he did quite the
+contrary, and took more and more. Sometimes, after committing these
+thefts, we were obliged instead of keeping along the road to cross the
+fields and go for miles out of our way, and at night to sleep in
+outhouses or barns, that we might not be seen before Mr. Sharpley had
+come to some place where he could part with his stolen goods. On these
+occasions I was truly miserable, and I determined, in my own mind, that
+whenever we should travel near to London I would contrive to leave them,
+and go to Mrs. Williams, who, I doubted not, would get me some
+employment to enable me to live in an honest manner.
+
+Things went on in this way till the beginning of June, when one day, as
+we were passing a very fine park, we stopped to admire it. A broad
+avenue planted on each side with trees led up to the house, which was
+large and handsome.
+
+'We will go in there,' said Mr. Sharpley; 'perhaps we may have the good
+fortune to sell something.' He opened the gate, we entered, and walked
+up the avenue to the house. As we passed one of the parlour windows he
+peeped in, and said in a low voice:
+
+'There is nobody there, the cloth is spread for dinner, and there is a
+rare lot of plate.'
+
+With an aching heart I followed him up the steps to the hall-door; there
+he saw a woman servant, whom he began to persuade to look at some of his
+goods. She said she would call the lady's maid, who she thought would
+show some of the muslins and laces to the ladies upstairs. She then went
+away, using the precaution of locking the dining-parlour door, and
+taking the key with her. She soon returned with the lady's maid, the
+pack and our boxes were opened, the women picked out what they chose,
+and after inquiring the prices took them upstairs.
+
+'That is a clever girl,' said Mr. Sharpley; 'she has locked the door,
+but I rather think she has left the window open. I'll just take a peep.'
+
+He went out upon the lawn, and returned in less than five minutes,
+smiling and muttering to his wife:
+
+'The sooner those girls come down the better. We must not quit the park
+till they do come, for we might be seen from the upper windows, and they
+would send after and stop us.'
+
+I trembled so when I heard this speech that I could hardly stand, and I
+determined to leave them the very first opportunity that I could find.
+In about ten minutes they came down, and brought the money for what
+things the ladies had chosen. They then made several purchases for
+themselves, which Mr. Sharpley let them have at their own price. Our
+goods were then expeditiously packed up, and we left the park. We had no
+sooner reached the road than he told us we must cross over and go into
+the field on the opposite side, where we must keep along under the
+screen of the hedge till we came to some place where we could cross over
+to a further distance. We followed his directions, and, when on the
+other side, we were obliged, each of us, to tie a coloured handkerchief
+over our bonnets, which a little altered their appearance. Mr. Sharpley
+put on a waggoner's frock which he always carried in his pack, and thus
+disguised we proceeded forward.
+
+'We must go to a barn that I know of near N----,' said Mr. Sharpley. 'It
+is about seven miles off; so, Lady Anne, you must walk stoutly; there we
+shall sleep. We must be up again by four in the morning, and go on to
+A----; that is only five miles further, and will be a nice little walk
+before breakfast. There I know a man who will take my silver goods off
+my hands, and then we shall be all safe again.'
+
+I followed in silence, for talking to him I knew was of no use, and I
+was so disgusted at the life I was compelled to lead that I determined
+to escape as soon as I possibly could. About nine in the evening we
+reached the field where the barn was situated, where we were to sleep,
+but it being summer-time, and many people about, we sat ourselves down
+in a retired corner of the field to wait till night was farther
+advanced, and the country people retired to rest. There we had our
+supper, consisting of cold victuals and a glass of ale apiece, for Mr.
+Sharpley always carried provisions with him in a wallet, in case of
+accidents, he said. Into this wallet he had crammed the plunder that he
+had taken from the gentleman's house. The shades of night every moment
+became darker, the dim figures of the countrymen, as they were returning
+to their homes, were seen less frequently, and the lights that gleamed
+from the cottage windows were by degrees all extinguished, but it was
+not until the clock of the neighbouring village had struck eleven that
+we dared to approach the barn, which we then did with cautious steps.
+Mr. Sharpley having found that the door was rather loose, pushed it so
+much aside as to admit us. We accordingly all entered; he replaced the
+board, and soon procured a light from a German matchbox that he always
+carried with him. He then emptied the wallet of the booty, which
+consisted of four large silver candlesticks, six table and six dessert
+spoons.
+
+'Now, Lady Anne,' said he, 'I must put these things into your box, for
+in case of a pursuit I and my pack will be the first they will seize and
+examine. You must, if possible, step on one side and throw these things
+away into a ditch or pond, or anywhere; for, if they are not found upon
+us, they will have some difficulty to prove me the thief.'
+
+I said very little, for I was determined this very night, when they
+should be asleep, that I would, if possible, make my escape from the
+barn and leave them for ever. Having arranged the things in my box, Mr.
+Sharpley locked it and returned the key to me, which I wore hung from my
+neck by a black ribbon.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[_Lady Anne then ran away, but only to be caught by a policeman._]
+
+
+Chapter IX
+
+I endeavoured to liberate myself from his grasp, and asked him who he
+was and what he wanted.
+
+'Pretty innocent!' said he. 'I suppose you really don't know.'
+
+'If you come from Mr. Sharpley,' said I, 'tell him I shall not live with
+him any longer. I mean to go to London.'
+
+'You will go with me first, my dear,' replied the man, 'and, as you will
+most likely see Mr. Sharpley this morning, you may tell him your message
+yourself; so come along.'
+
+'Where are you going to take me to?' said I, struggling to free myself
+from his hold.
+
+'I am going to take you to prison, where you will see your worthy
+friend, Mr. Sharpley. You will all be tried for your lives for the
+robbery you committed yesterday.'
+
+When I heard this, I no longer resisted, but walked on in silence,
+meditating on the wretched state to which we were all reduced by the
+dishonesty of Mr. Sharpley. When we entered the road I found, to my
+surprise, that I had in the gloom of the night retraced my steps, and
+was within a short distance of the house where the robbery had been
+committed.
+
+I was conducted into the town, which, in our hasty flight the day
+before, we had not dared to visit. I was then taken to the magistrate's
+house and locked up in a room with a stone floor, grated windows, and
+no furniture but a wooden bench. There I was left for nearly two hours,
+and had full leisure to think over my melancholy situation. It appeared
+to me most likely that we should all be condemned to die, and when I
+thought of my past life--how very little I had known but sorrow--when I
+reflected that I had no relations to be sorry for my death, I thought
+that, if it was not for the disgrace of dying as a thief, I should not
+wish to live, but be glad to die, that I might be free from all the
+troubles of this world.
+
+In the midst of these reflections the man who had awakened me in the
+field opened the door and told me to come, for I was now going to be
+tried for my life. I instantly arose. He took me by the arm and led me
+into a large room, where there were a great many people assembled. Some
+were standing, and others sitting on benches. At the upper end of a
+large table sat a gentleman with a very severe countenance.
+
+From the description often given me by Mr. Sharpley of a justice-room I
+instantly concluded that this was one, and that the gentleman I saw was
+the justice. By his side sat another gentleman and some ladies. I heard
+the people near me whisper that they were the persons who had been
+robbed, and that they were come to swear to the things. I did not look
+at them more than merely to see that three persons were there, for in
+one corner of the room stood Mr. Sharpley and his wife, guarded by two
+men; and on the floor near the table was placed the pack and our two
+boxes.
+
+'All is over with us,' thought I, as I was led up to the table, which I
+found was called being put to the bar. I was then ordered to take off my
+hat, which I did, and the justice asked me what was my name.
+
+'Lady Anne,' I replied.
+
+A general laugh circled round the room.
+
+'What is your surname?' demanded the justice, with great severity.
+
+'I do not know,' answered I.
+
+I must here observe that these very short answers were such as, in our
+mock trials, Mr. Sharpley had taught me to give, for he said I must
+never say more than was necessary to answer the question asked.
+
+'What is your father's name?' with increased severity demanded the
+justice.
+
+'I do not know.'
+
+'What is the name you yourself generally go by?'
+
+'Lady Anne.'
+
+'Well, Lady Anne, since that is the name you choose to be called, what
+are you to Mr. Sharpley?'
+
+'His servant.'
+
+'Do you know for what reason you are brought here?'
+
+'I cannot say.'
+
+'Astonishing calmness!' said the justice in a low tone to the gentleman
+beside him. Then again addressing me: 'Lady Anne, you are accused of
+robbing, in conjunction with your master, James Sharpley, the Earl of
+Malbourne of various articles of plate. What do you say to this charge?'
+
+'I did not take anything myself,' replied I, 'nor did I see my master
+take anything.'
+
+'It is melancholy to see one so young in years so old in vice,' observed
+the justice. 'Who generally carries that small box?'
+
+'I do.'
+
+'Did you carry it yesterday?'
+
+'I did.'
+
+'Where is the key of it?'
+
+I now with horror remembered that when I left the barn in the night I
+had forgot to take the key from my neck, and that it was still in my
+possession. With my eyes fixed on the ground, I remained silent. The
+question was angrily repeated.
+
+'I have it,' I falteringly answered.
+
+'Hand it over. We must see the contents of that box.'
+
+I attempted to obey, but the key had slipped so low into my bosom that
+it had somehow got fixed in the ribbon belonging to my father's picture,
+and I trembled so violently that I could not disentangle it without
+drawing the picture entirely out, and holding it in my hand while I
+disengaged the key. The keen eye of the justice instantly caught it.
+
+'What fine picture is that, set in gold and adorned with pearls?' said
+he. 'Hand it over, and let me look at it.'
+
+'It is my father's picture,' I replied; 'it is my own property, and I
+will not part with it to anybody.'
+
+'You must part with it to me,' said the justice. 'Hand it over
+immediately.'
+
+I slipped it within my stays and spread my hands over my bosom, while I
+replied:
+
+'It is my father's picture. It does not belong to anybody in the world
+but myself, and I will sooner die than part with it.'
+
+'Take it from her, Johnson,' said the justice.
+
+In vain I struggled. The man forced my hands from my bosom, and,
+catching hold of the ribbon, dragged the picture from me, and handed it
+to the justice. My misery was now complete--I could endure no more--and
+with a bitter scream I sunk to the ground in a swoon.
+
+How long my insensibility lasted I do not know; but when recollection
+returned I found myself supported in a chair by a woman who was a
+spectator, and Johnson, the officer, was sprinkling me with water. It
+was some minutes before I could speak or stand, but, as soon as I could,
+I arose and earnestly entreated to have the picture restored to me.
+
+'Keep your seat, Lady Anne,' said the justice. 'If the picture is yours,
+it certainly shall be returned to you; but try to recollect yourself,
+and give me some account how it came into your possession.'
+
+'It is my father's picture,' I replied. 'My mother always wore it; and
+when she died a gentleman--Mr. Sanders, the clergyman of the
+parish--took care of it for me, and when I was sent to London he let me
+have it myself, that I might, if I should ever meet with my father, be
+able to know him. That is all I know. Now, pray, sir, let me have the
+picture again, for it is the only comfort I have in the world, and if
+you take it from me I shall die.'
+
+'Do you not, then, child, know your father's name? Do you not know who
+he is?'
+
+'Oh, if I knew his name I should not be here; but I do not know his
+name, and I do not know who he is.'
+
+'Did you ever see him?'
+
+'Yes; but it is very long since. He went away when I was five years old,
+and I have never seen him since.'
+
+During these questions many heavy sighs had proceeded from some person
+near, but at my last answer that gentleman who was seated beside the
+justice rose up, and, coming round to me, took my hands, saying:
+
+'Look at me, my child, and tell me if you think you ever saw _me_
+before.'
+
+I did look at him; but, oh! how can I describe the astonishment and joy
+I felt when in his countenance I traced, though more advanced in life,
+the features of that portrait that had so long been my greatest
+comfort? I sunk down before him, and, clasping his knees, exclaimed:
+
+'Surely, surely, you are my father--you are my mother's dear Frederick!'
+
+Overpowered by my feelings, I again fainted. When I recovered, I found
+myself laid upon a sofa in a handsome apartment. One of the ladies whom
+I had seen in the justice-room was sprinkling me with water, another
+holding a vinaigrette to me, my father chafing my temples, and the
+justice standing near, looking on, not with the stern countenance he had
+before shown, but as if he really pitied me. I tried to rouse myself,
+and, as soon as I could speak, apologised to the ladies for the trouble
+I had given them.
+
+'Compose yourself, my dear,' said the elder of the two. 'To see you well
+is all we wish.'
+
+I was now able to sit upright. My father sat beside me, and, putting his
+arms around me, pressed me to his bosom. I leaned my head against him,
+and the tears rolled fast down my face; but they were no longer the
+chilling tears of sorrow I had long been used to shed, they were tears
+of joy and gladness at being restored to a kind father, to whom I had
+feared I was lost for ever. When he spoke, I seemed to recollect the
+tones of his voice; the scenes of my early childhood returned to my
+memory, and I asked him if he had not been used to call me his Annie and
+his little darling.
+
+'Yes, my dear,' he replied, 'that I certainly did, But tell me, my
+child, by what miracle your life was preserved from the perils of the
+sea, and what was the final fate of your unfortunate mother.'
+
+'My dear mother died at E----,' I replied; 'but I do not know what you
+mean by the perils of the sea, for I was never upon it that I know of
+in my life; and now, my dear father, tell me why you went away and left
+us, and has the Earl forgiven you yet?'
+
+'Ah! my child,' said my father, with a deep sigh, 'I see that we have
+each a tale to tell, but it must be deferred till your spirits are more
+composed. And now, Sir Robert,' turning to the justice, 'I can only
+apologise for the great trouble we have given you this morning.'
+
+'My dear lord,' replied the justice, whose name was Sir Robert Eldridge,
+'accept my warmest congratulations on the happy discovery of your
+daughter; and to you, Lady Anne, I beg leave to return the portrait of
+your father, which has fortunately been the means of your being restored
+to his protection.'
+
+A few more compliments having passed, we were departing, when Sir Robert
+said:
+
+'What is your lordship's pleasure respecting the Sharpleys? Shall I
+remand them to prison for another examination?'
+
+'My dear father,' said I, 'for my sake have pity on Mr. Sharpley and his
+wife, for indeed they have been very kind to me.'
+
+'If they have been so, my child,' replied my father, 'I shall certainly
+show them lenity, but I wish first to hear your story, and then I shall
+know how to proceed. So, Sir Robert, if you will please to detain these
+people till to-morrow, I shall esteem it a favour.'
+
+We then took our leave, and returned home in my father's carriage, and
+was soon conveyed to that house where the day before I had stood as a
+poor little pedlar, but which I now entered as the only child of the
+Earl of Malbourne.
+
+[Illustration: _Lady Anne finds her father.--Page 405._]
+
+We proceeded to the drawing-room, and my father then informed me that
+the lady who had shown me so much kindness was his sister, Lady Caroline
+Beaumont. The young lady, who appeared about thirteen, was my cousin,
+Miss Beaumont; and another young lady, who seemed about eleven, was also
+my cousin, Miss Ellen Beaumont.
+
+Refreshments were now brought, and my father and aunt, when they
+understood that I had been up the whole night, insisted that I should go
+to bed, and try to get a little rest before dinner, which I did, and in
+about two hours arose very much refreshed.
+
+In the course of the evening I gave my father and new-found relations a
+circumstantial detail of everything that had happened to me as far back
+as I could remember. When I gave the account of my mother's death at the
+inn they were affected even to tears.
+
+'Oh! how unfortunate was I to be out of England at that time,' said my
+father; 'and how cruel was my father by his resentment and ambition thus
+to occasion the death of the most amiable of women. But proceed, my
+child, with your melancholy story, and afterwards I will tell you mine,
+and explain circumstances of which you seem to have some recollection.'
+
+I accordingly went on, and finished my narrative, by which time it was
+so late, and I was so much exhausted, that my father said he would defer
+his narration till the following day.
+
+My aunt and cousins were extremely kind to me, and, when I retired to
+bed, I was furnished with night-clothes from Miss Beaumont's wardrobe.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[_On the next day the Sharpleys, on their promising never to steal
+again, were released, and later Sir Robert told Lady Anne the story of
+her life._]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'It is a painful story, my dear child,' said he; 'and I must spare your
+feelings by relating it as briefly as I can. Your mother was of a very
+good family, and, during the earlier part of her youth, her parents were
+in affluence.
+
+She was a boarder at the same school as my sister Caroline; and, by
+frequently going to see my sister, I became acquainted with Miss Norman,
+and was sincerely attached to her before I thought that I felt more for
+her than a common friendship. This, in some respects, was an unfortunate
+circumstance, for my father, who was then Earl of Malbourne, wished me
+to marry a lady of high birth and large fortune; but she was of such a
+disagreeable imperious temper that I could not endure the thought of
+passing my life with her.
+
+'When Miss Norman was a little turned of seventeen, her mother died, and
+she went home to live with her father. I still visited her in company
+with my sister, for I hoped that my father would, at some time, consent
+to my marrying her. About a year after this, her father engaged in some
+mercantile business that failed; he was also very much defrauded by his
+agents, so that, from being what might be called a rich man, he was
+suddenly reduced to poverty. This sad change in his affairs affected him
+so much that he fell ill. I was grieved to my heart to see him in such a
+state, and to see Miss Norman pining, as it were, to death.
+
+'I was certainly old enough to choose a wife for myself, for I was
+twenty-five, had a handsome estate, and was then major of a regiment. I
+had often told my father that I could never marry Lady Clara Froward,
+for that I was attached to another lady, and only wished for his consent
+to marry her. That, said my father, I never should have, for that he
+would never consent to my marrying anybody but Lady Clara Froward.
+
+'I had waited a long time in the hope that he would change his mind, but
+he did not; and, when I saw Mr. Norman and his daughter in such
+distress, I determined not to wait any longer, but offered my hand to
+your mother, and urged her father to consent to the marriage. It was a
+long time before he would agree to it; but, finding his health every day
+worse, he gave his consent, and we were married.
+
+'A few days afterwards I informed my father of our marriage, and
+entreated him to receive my amiable wife as his daughter. He wrote me
+word that I had married without his consent, he disowned me as his son,
+and would never receive either me or my wife.
+
+'This determination was the subject of regret to us all; but we lived in
+hopes that time would soften his resentment, and that in the end he
+would relent. About two months after our marriage Mr. Norman died; and,
+after the funeral, I and my wife removed to a house I had in Piccadilly,
+near the park. There we lived very happily for a length of time; my
+sister, who had been bridesmaid to your mother, frequently came to see
+us; there you were born, and my sister was one of your godmothers. The
+reason of your being called Lady Anne was entirely owing to a whim of
+your maid's, for at that time you had no right to the title of Lady; but
+she said you would soon have, and that she should call you so now, that
+she might be used to it; and, from her continually calling you so, it by
+degrees became a general custom, not only with our own family, but also
+with our visitors.
+
+'Time passed away very happily till you had just completed your fifth
+year, when I received orders to join my regiment, which was going upon
+foreign service. It is needless to say anything of the deep grief that
+your mother and I felt on this occasion. We parted, and I went abroad
+in the hope that I should return again in a few months.
+
+'Two or three letters passed between your mother and me after my
+departure, when they suddenly ceased on her side. Unable to account for
+this strange silence, I wrote to my sister, entreating her to write
+immediately, and inform me if anything had happened. I soon received her
+answer, which informed me that my father, taking advantage of my
+absence, had unfortunately thought proper to pay a visit to your mother,
+and reproach her in the most cruel manner for having married me. Your
+dear mother was so terrified that it made her very ill.'
+
+'Oh!' said I, interrupting my father, 'I remember it. The Earl was a
+tall, thin, old gentleman; and he was in such a passion that my dear
+mother fainted away on the ground, and a servant, I think her name was
+Sally, came and helped her up, and brought her to her recollection
+again.'
+
+'My dear child, you are quite right,' said my father, holding his
+handkerchief to his eyes; 'that unfortunate visit was the cause of all
+the misery that has since befallen us. Your mother, being fearful of
+receiving such another visit, soon after the Earl was gone, sent Sally
+out to take lodgings for her in a private street, to which she removed
+the same evening, attended only by Sally and another woman servant. She
+then wrote an account of all that had passed to my sister (who was
+married to Sir Henry Beaumont), and concluded her letter by saying that
+she should continue in privacy in those apartments till my return, as
+she dreaded a repetition of the Earl's visit if she remained in
+Piccadilly. A few days after she had been in these lodgings she saw the
+Earl pass by on the other side of the street, accidentally he has since
+assured me it was. The idea instantly seized her that he was searching
+for her, and, not knowing what might be the consequences should he
+discover her retreat, she determined to leave England and come over to
+Holland to me. She wrote a few lines to my sister, telling her of her
+fears and determination, and that she intended to take her passage in a
+packet from H----. That very day a post-chaise was sent for. She would
+not allow Sally to accompany her; but, taking you for her only
+companion, and a few clothes in a small trunk, she set out on her
+melancholy journey. No letter has since been received from her, and my
+sister had hoped and believed she was with me in Holland.
+
+'On the receipt of this distressing intelligence, I made every possible
+inquiry to ascertain the fate of my beloved wife and child; and, after
+some days, had the misery to hear that the hull of a packet had been
+found floating at sea keel upwards. Its name and port were legibly
+painted upon it, and on inquiry it was found that this very packet had
+left H---- two days after your mother's departure from London, and, none
+having sailed for some days before, no doubt could be entertained but
+that your mother and you had been lost at sea. What misery was mine! How
+often did I wish that I had been with you, and that we had all been
+buried in the same watery grave! When the campaign was ended I returned
+to England, and resigned my commission. My grief was so great that I
+believed I should have lost my senses had it not been for the kindness
+of my sister and Sir Henry, who obliged me almost by force to reside
+with them. My father, too late repenting of his cruelty, and shocked at
+the dreadful calamity it had occasioned, sought a reconciliation with
+his wretched son. I shall not dwell upon the particulars of the
+distressing interview that passed between us; we were reconciled, but my
+father could never forgive himself for the misery his ambition had
+occasioned. Our firm belief that your mother and you had been lost at
+sea prevented our making any inquiries by land, and we were too much
+absorbed by grief to read the newspapers, so that we never saw the
+advertisements that you say were inserted. Since that time, my dear
+child. I have passed a very unhappy life. I have several times been on
+the Continent on government business. When in England, I reside chiefly
+with my sister and brother-in-law. Your uncle, Sir Henry, is at present
+at Vienna, and, during the time of his absence, your aunt and two
+cousins are staying with me. These, my dear, are the principal
+circumstances of my life.
+
+'I will now say something of the events of yesterday. When my servants
+told me of the robbery committed by the pedlar there appeared to me so
+much ingratitude as well as roguery in the transaction, for the man had
+taken more than ten pounds in money for his goods, that I determined to
+let the law take its course with respect to him, and my servants were at
+the justice's to swear to the things; but the description the two women
+servants gave me of you interested your aunt and me very much in your
+favour, and we thought that if you were so young and innocent as they
+represented you to be it would be a deed of kindness to rescue you from
+the guardianship of such people, and it was for that purpose that we
+attended.
+
+'When you were led forward to the bar the great resemblance you bear to
+your mother instantly struck me, and when in tones so dear, and so
+familiar to my ear you said that your name was Lady Anne, my agitation
+was extreme, though still without thinking it possible that you could be
+my daughter, but when at last my own portrait was produced, and you
+declared it to be your father's, then I thought it possible that your
+life might have been preserved, and I whispered Sir Robert, for I was
+too much agitated to question you myself, to inquire particularly how it
+had come into your possession. To what a happy discovery did that
+examination lead. My child is restored to me, and I am happier than I
+ever expected to be again in this world.'
+
+My father tenderly embraced me at the conclusion of his narrative, so
+did my aunt and cousins, with many kind expressions of joy at my being
+restored to my family.
+
+'Your likeness to your mother is very great,' said my aunt. 'She was my
+chosen friend at school from the time she came to it, which was when she
+was twelve years old. In features, in voice, you are as like what she
+was at your age as if you were the same person.'
+
+In the course of the evening my father told me that in a few days, when
+I should have had a proper assortment of clothes made up for me, it was
+his intention to make a tour.
+
+'We will go to town,' said he, 'again, and pay a visit to all those
+people who have been your friends, and even those who have been
+otherwise. I intend to go to those cruel people in the Borough. A few
+words of proper admonition may be of service to them, and induce them to
+treat another poor child with more humanity. And to Mrs. Williams,
+honest Davis, and that good man Joseph we must show our gratitude by
+deeds as well as words.'
+
+About a week after this we went to town, and soon after paid a visit to
+Davis's cottage. We knocked at the door, which was opened by Mrs. Davis,
+who seemed surprised at so many fine people coming to her cottage, and
+asked, 'What was our pleasure?' My father told her that he was come to
+thank her for the kindness she had shown to a little friendless girl who
+went by the name of Lady Anne, and whom he had lately discovered to be
+his daughter. She looked astonished, but, fixing her eyes upon me,
+instantly recollected me, and burst into a flood of tears.
+
+'Do not cry, Mrs. Davis,' said I, for I was grieved at seeing her weep.
+'I do sincerely thank you, for you were very kind to me till just the
+last.'
+
+'Ah, Lady Anne,' said she, 'I have never been happy since I sent you
+away. My husband was dreadfully angry with me, and I don't believe he
+has forgiven me yet. He said that I had turned an orphan out of doors,
+and that it would bring ill luck upon our heads, and so it proved, for
+about a week after Mr. Freeman himself caught Susan as she was filling
+her pockets with plums, and discharged her instantly. Luckily Phoebe had
+none in her pocket, and Tom they knew to be an honest boy, so they two
+escaped, but we had a world of trouble with Susan, for, as she had lost
+her character, we could hardly get her a place at all, but at last a
+woman in the village who takes in washing agreed to take her. There she
+has a great deal of work to do for very little money, but she is
+determined to be honest, and to stay there for a year that she may
+recover her character, and then we hope that she will do better, but it
+grieves me to the heart to think that I encouraged her to bring the
+fruit home, for if I had scolded her for it at the first, she would have
+left it off, and might now have been at Mr. Freeman's.'
+
+'Well, my good woman,' said my father, 'you seem so sensible of your
+error, both with respect to encouraging your daughter in dishonesty, and
+your ill-treatment of mine at the last, that I shall say nothing further
+to you on the subject, but thank you for the kindness you did show to my
+child during the greater part of the time she was with you. Now I wish
+to see your husband. Is he here or gone to town?'
+
+'He is at the garden, sir, for Richard and the women quarrelled about
+the money that they took, and at last one of them told Mr. Freeman of
+the tricks they played, so Richard and some of the women were
+discharged, and the rest had such a lecturing that I don't believe there
+is now a creature in the garden would dare to take so much as a
+gooseberry from it, but my husband is there a good deal to look after
+them, for Mr. Freeman says he shall not trust them too far.'
+
+'Ah,' said my father, 'you see that honesty is still the best policy.
+Well, I wish you good-day, and hope you will continue in your good
+resolutions.'
+
+I shook hands with the poor woman, and we then proceeded to Mr.
+Freeman's gardens. The door being open we entered. Mr. Joseph soon
+appeared, and came up to us with a bow.
+
+'We would look at your greenhouses,' said my father. 'I wish to choose
+some plants.'
+
+Joseph looked at me with a doubting, curious look, but without uttering
+any observation, and led the way to the nearest greenhouse. We looked at
+the plants, and my cousins took occasion to address me by my title. At
+this Joseph again gazed very earnestly at me, and hesitatingly said:
+
+'I beg pardon, but this young lady is so like a child that used to be
+here last summer, and went by that name, that I could almost swear she
+was now before me.'
+
+'And so she is, my good man,' replied my father, 'and I am come to thank
+you for the kindness you showed to her.'
+
+'Well now,' said Joseph, 'this is the most joyful day that I have seen
+for this long time. To see the little drooping rose transplanted into
+its own garden was more than I ever expected, but I am glad to my heart
+that it has happened, and, Lady Anne, forgive the freedom of an old man
+when I say that I loved you as if you had been one of my own
+grandchildren, and had I known how uncomfortable you were at Davis's you
+should have been removed into the family of one of my own daughters, who
+lives near, and she would have treated you as one of her own children;
+but you see all things happen for the best, for by your being turned out
+of doors, as it were, you have discovered your father, and are much
+better off than ever we could make you.'
+
+We all very cordially shook hands with this honest good man, and my
+father compelled him to accept of a handsome present.
+
+Mr. Freeman was in town, so my father left his compliments and thanks to
+him for having given me employment, and ordered plants to the amount of
+twenty pounds to be sent to his house in Piccadilly. We went to a
+different part of the garden in quest of Davis and his son Tommy. We
+soon found them, and, on making myself known to the father, the poor man
+could not forbear shedding tears, and said he should be ashamed as long
+as he lived to think how I had been turned out of his cottage. My father
+begged him not to think of it any longer, for that we did not, and it
+was with difficulty that he prevailed on him to accept a present which
+Davis said he did not deserve, and that it was like a reproach to him.
+
+'Say no more, I beg of you,' said my father; 'my daughter can only think
+of the kindness you showed her, and we shall always remember it with
+gratitude.'
+
+Little Tommy, as soon as he felt convinced that I was the same Lady
+Anne that used to live in their cottage, took my hand, kissed it, and
+said he would make me a prettier box than I had ever seen, for that he
+made them much better now than when I lived with them. I gave the little
+fellow a guinea, and I gave his sister Phoebe five shillings, for though
+I did not entertain any resentment against her, yet I did not think it
+would be just to give her as much as her brother, who had always been
+kind to me, and was an honest boy. We then took leave of them, and
+returned to town.
+
+The next morning, after breakfast was over, my father ordered the
+carriage, and we drove to Covent Garden to pay a visit to Mrs. Williams
+and her family. When we arrived at the Garden I led the way to the shop,
+and found her and her two daughters busy in setting out the fruit and
+flowers. I asked her the price of some of them, and though she answered
+me as a stranger, yet I saw that she looked at me very earnestly, but
+her daughter Jane, having observed me, whispered to her mother:
+
+'I am sure that is the little girl that we took in who was in such
+distress; I am positive it was her.'
+
+Mrs. Williams again looked at me very intently. I smiled, and said:
+
+'Yes, Mrs. Williams, I am that poor child that you were so kind as to
+take in and feed and clothe.'
+
+'Bless your sweet face,' said she, 'and so you are; and have you found
+your friends, and is your father living?'
+
+'Yes, my good friend,' replied my father, 'I am that happy father, and
+can never be sufficiently grateful to you for befriending my poor child
+when she was almost dying of cold and hunger.'
+
+Mrs. Williams made many exclamations of joy and surprise at the happy
+change that had taken place in my situation. We all entered the shop,
+and, seating ourselves as well as we could, my father gave her a slight
+detail of the circumstances that had brought me to his knowledge. We
+stayed with her nearly an hour, and, before leaving the shop, my father
+obliged her to accept of bank-notes to the amount of a hundred pounds.
+We then returned to the carriage, and my father ordered the coachman to
+drive to D---- Street in the borough.
+
+'For,' said he, 'we will now go and make our acknowledgment to Mr. Smith
+and his wife, for I think it is as proper to reprove them for their
+barbarity as to reward those who have treated you with kindness.'
+
+When we arrived at the street I pointed out the house, but it was now in
+a different business. We entered the shop, and on inquiring for Smiths,
+were told that they had been gone away for some time, for that the
+husband had given himself up to drinking, and the wife to gambling till
+they were involved in debt to everybody that would trust them; and at
+last they had moved away in the night without paying anyone, and it was
+not known where they were gone to.'
+
+'It is very well,' said my father, 'these people by their bad management
+and ill conduct have brought a punishment upon themselves. I shall not
+seek for them any further. It is not my wish to reproach those who are
+fallen into distress, and that, I think, is likely to be their present
+state.'
+
+We then returned home, and my father informed us that it was his
+intention, in the course of two or three days, to take a longer journey,
+which would give us much pleasure and also much pain.
+
+'For,' said he, 'we will go to E----. I wish to visit Mr. Sanders and
+your good nurse, and to go to the grave of your dear mother. She must
+not lie there; I must have her removed and laid in our family vault at
+Malbourne. Though so cruelly separated from her during my life, yet one
+tomb shall contain us at our death.'
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+CONCLUSION.
+
+_Mr. Sanders was very happy to know that Lady Anne had found her father,
+and the Earl gave him a living worth two hundred pounds a year. He also
+provided for Nurse Jenkins and her children, and reprimanded the
+overseers of the workhouse, but made a present to the parish for the
+benefit of the poor children. Some time later the reformed Sharpleys
+called at Sir Robert's house, and being now honest pedlars, were
+liberally patronized._
+
+
+
+
+Captain Murderer
+
+
+Captain Murderer's mission was matrimony, and the gratification of a
+cannibal appetite with tender brides. On his marriage morning he always
+caused both sides of the way to church to be planted with curious
+flowers; and when his bride said, 'Dear Captain Murderer, I never saw
+flowers like these before; what are they called?' he answered, 'They are
+called garnish for house-lamb,' and laughed at his ferocious practical
+joke in a horrid manner, disquieting the minds of the noble bridal
+company with a very sharp show of teeth, then displayed for the first
+time. He made love in a coach-and-six, and married in a
+coach-and-twelve, and all his horses were milk-white horses with one red
+spot on the back, which he caused to be hidden by the harness; for the
+spot _would_ come there, though every horse was milk-white when Captain
+Murderer bought him. And the spot was young bride's blood. (To this
+terrific point I am indebted for my first personal experience of a
+shudder and cold beads on the forehead.) When Captain Murderer had made
+an end of feasting and revelry, and had dismissed the noble guests, and
+was alone with his wife on the day month after their marriage, it was
+his whimsical custom to produce a golden rolling-pin and a silver
+pie-board. Now, there was this special feature in the Captain's
+courtships, that he always asked if the young lady could make pie-crust,
+and if she couldn't by nature or education, she was taught. Well, when
+the bride saw Captain Murderer produce the golden rolling-pin and silver
+pie-board, she remembered this, and turned up her laced-silk sleeves to
+make a pie. The Captain brought out a silver pie-dish of immense
+capacity, and the Captain brought out flour and butter and eggs and all
+things needful, except the inside of the pie. Of materials for the
+staple of the pie itself the Captain brought out none. Then said the
+lovely bride: 'Dear Captain Murderer, what pie is this to be?' He
+replied: 'A meat pie.' Then said the lovely bride: 'Dear Captain
+Murderer, I see no meat.' The Captain humorously retorted: 'Look in the
+glass.' She looked in the glass, but still she saw no meat, and then the
+Captain roared with laughter, and suddenly frowning and drawing his
+sword, bade her roll out the crust. So she rolled out the crust,
+dropping large tears upon it all the time, because he was so cross, and
+when she had lined the dish with crust, and had cut the crust all ready
+to fit the top, the Captain called out: '_I_ see the meat in the glass!'
+And the bride looked up at the glass, just in time to see the Captain
+cutting her head off; and he chopped her in pieces, and peppered her,
+and salted her, and put her in the pie, and sent it to the baker's, and
+ate it all, and picked the bones.
+
+Captain Murderer went on in this way, prospering exceedingly, until he
+came to choose a bride from two twin sisters, and at first didn't know
+which to choose; for, though one was fair and the other dark, they were
+both equally beautiful. But the fair twin loved him, and the dark twin
+hated him, so he chose the fair one. The dark twin would have prevented
+the marriage if she could, but she couldn't. However, on the night
+before it, much suspecting Captain Murderer, she stole out and climbed
+his garden-wall, and looked in at his window through a chink in the
+shutter, and saw him having his teeth filed sharp. Next day she listened
+all day, and heard him make his joke about the house-lamb. And that day
+month he had the paste rolled out, and cut the fair twin's head off, and
+chopped her in pieces, and peppered her, and salted her, and put her in
+the pie, and sent it to the baker's, and ate it all, and picked the
+bones.
+
+Now, the dark twin had had her suspicions much increased by the filing
+of the Captain's teeth, and again by the house-lamb joke. Putting all
+things together when he gave out that her sister was dead, she divined
+the truth, and determined to be revenged. So she went up to Captain
+Murderer's house and knocked at the knocker and pulled at the bell, and
+when the Captain came to the door, said: 'Dear Captain Murderer, marry
+me next, for I always loved you, and was jealous of my sister.' The
+Captain took it as a compliment, and made a polite answer, and the
+marriage was quickly arranged. On the night before it the bride again
+climbed to his window, and again saw him having his teeth filed sharp.
+At this sight she laughed such a terrible laugh at the chink in the
+shutter that the Captain's blood curdled, and he said: 'I hope nothing
+has disagreed with me!' At that she laughed again--a still more terrible
+laugh--and the shutter was opened and search made, but she was nimbly
+gone, and there was no one. Next day they went to church in a
+coach-and-twelve and were married. And that day month she rolled the
+pie-crust out, and Captain Murderer cut her head off, and chopped her in
+pieces, and peppered her, and salted her, and put her in the pie, and
+sent it to the baker's, and ate it all, and picked the bones.
+
+But before she began to roll out the paste she had taken a deadly poison
+of a most awful character, distilled from toads' eyes and spiders'
+knees, and Captain Murderer had hardly picked her last bone when he
+began to swell, and to turn blue, and to be all over spots, and to
+scream. And he went on swelling and turning bluer, and being more all
+over spots and screaming, until he reached from floor to ceiling and
+from wall to wall; and then, at one o'clock in the morning, he blew up
+with a loud explosion. At the sound of it all the milk-white horses in
+the stables broke their halters and went mad, and then they galloped
+over everybody in Captain Murderer's house (beginning with the family
+blacksmith, who had filed his teeth) until the whole were dead, and then
+they galloped away.
+
+
+    PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN
+
+    WELLS GARDNER, DARTON AND CO., LTD., LONDON
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustrated by A. G. Walker
+
+A BOOK OF BALLAD STORIES
+
+
+Selected and Edited by MARY MACLEOD
+
+With Introduction by EDWARD DOWDEN
+
+[Illustration:
+
+    'Beyond it rose a castle fair
+      Y-built of marble stone;
+    The battlements were gilt with gold,
+      And glittered in the sun.--_p. 129._]
+
+[Illustration: 'She stoutly steered the stots about.'--_p. 110._]
+
+'_Miss Mary Macleod has succeeded admirably in keeping much of the
+spirit of the originals in her prose versions of the best of the old
+ballads._'
+
+    TRUTH.
+
+'_Should take a high place. In this work the famous ballads have been
+done into prose so skilfully, and have been so artistically illustrated,
+that it forms a volume to be highly prized._'--STANDARD.
+
+
+_Large crown 8vo. printed on superfine paper, cloth boards._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustrated by Gordon Browne
+
+FAIRY TALES FROM GRIMM
+
+
+With Introduction by
+
+S. BARING GOULD
+
+'_Of new editions of old favourites the palm must be given, we think, to
+this collection of Fairy Tales from Grimm.... We do not think a better
+edition has appeared._'
+
+    REVIEW OF REVIEWS.
+
+'_No more acceptable edition of some of Grimm's Stories has been
+published._'--STANDARD.
+
+'_Altogether delightful. The illustrations are full of charm and
+sympathy._'--SATURDAY REVIEW.
+
+'_A fairy book beyond reproach._'--GRAPHIC.
+
+'_Grimm is always delightful, but in his present new dress he is more
+delightful than ever. Mr. Gordon Browne charms us always with his dainty
+pictures._'--GUARDIAN.
+
+'_All the illustrations are simply inimitable._'--QUEEN.
+
+[Illustration: 'The Prince who was afraid of Nothing.'--_p. 216._]
+
+
+_Large crown 8vo. printed on superfine paper, cloth boards._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustrated by Gordon Browne
+
+[Illustration: Reduced facsimile of cover.]
+
+    FAIRY TALES FROM HANS ANDERSEN
+
+    Introduction By EDWARD CLODD
+
+Large Crown 8vo. printed on superfine paper, fancy cloth boards, gilt
+top 6s.; calf 10s. 6d.
+
+'_The illustrations leave nothing to be desired._'--STANDARD.
+
+'_This is really a seasonable for all Christmases._'--PUNCH.
+
+'_A delightful gift for children._'--TIMES OF INDIA.
+
+
+[Illustration: From 'The Ugly Duckling.' _p. 110._]
+
+
+WELLS GARDNER, DARTON, & CO., LTD., LONDON
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustrated by Gordon Browne
+
+
+STORIES FROM FROISSART
+
+By
+
+HENRY NEWBOLT,
+
+_Author of 'Admirals All.' &c._
+
+'_A really fine book, and effectively illustrated. Mr. Newbolt has done
+his work well, and Mr. Gordon Browne has illustrated the book
+delightfully._'--OUTLOOK.
+
+'_There never was a better story-book than Froissart._'--ATHENAEUM.
+
+
+[Illustration: 'The four knights view the English host.'--_p. 26._]
+
+
+Large crown 8vo. printed on superfine paper, cloth boards.
+
+
+WELLS GARDNER, DARTON, & CO., LTD., LONDON
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustrated by F. C. Pape
+
+
+CHILDREN OF THE DAWN
+
+OLD TALES OF GREECE
+
+By ELSIE FINNEMORE BUCKLEY
+
+
+With Introduction by ARTHUR SIDGWICK
+
+'_For a child whose eyes are just opening to beauty, and whose
+imagination is ready to be kindled by a spark from any torch, we can
+think of few more delightful or enduring gifts than this book, with its
+immortal themes and its graceful interpretation in our time and tongue.
+The illustrations by Mr. F. C. Pape deserve praise._'--MORNING LEADER.
+
+'_Told with rare good taste and judgment._'--DAILY TELEGRAPH.
+
+'_Cannot fail to instruct as well as interest not only children, but
+schoolboys and schoolgirls who have begun the study of the old Greek and
+Roman poets. To such students a knowledge of these stories is
+invaluable. In every respect the book is an excellent one._'--DUNDEE COURIER.
+
+[Illustration: 'Each night Hero lighted her torch.'--_p. 117._]
+
+_Large crown 8vo. printed on superfine paper, cloth boards._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustrated by Gordon Browne
+
+[Illustration: 'And your experience makes you sad?--_p. 152._]
+
+    THE SHAKESPEARE STORY BOOK
+
+    By MARY MACLEOD
+
+    With Introduction
+    By SIDNEY LEE
+
+'_Mr. Sidney Lee, a quite unimpeachable authority, strongly recommends
+this new volume, for which indeed Miss Mary Macleod's literary
+reputation will commend a favourable hearing. This new rendering has
+been very well done. Mr. Gordon Browne's illustrations add another charm
+to a very attractive book._'--SPECTATOR.
+
+'_Miss Mary Macleod has followed the plot more closely than Mary and
+Charles Lamb, and a charming book of stories is the result._'--TRUTH.
+
+[Illustration: 'Some have greatness thrust upon them.' _p._ xiv.]
+
+_Large crown 8vo. printed on superfine paper, cloth boards._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustrated by Hugh Thomson
+
+TALES OF THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS
+
+RETOLD FROM CHAUCER AND OTHER WRITERS
+
+By F. J. HARVEY DARTON
+
+With Introduction By Dr. F. J. FURNIVALL
+
+[Illustration: 'The cow ran, the calf ran, and even the very hogs
+trotted.'--_p. 122._]
+
+Large 8vo. printed on superfine paper, cloth boards gilt top, 7s. 6d.
+
+
+WELLS GARDNER, DARTON, & CO., LTD., LONDON
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Forgotten Tales of Long Ago, by E. V. Lucas
+
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+
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