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+Project Gutenberg’s The Paradise of Children, by Nathaniel Hawthorne
+
+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: The Paradise of Children
+
+Author: Nathaniel Hawthorne
+
+Release Date: November, 2005 [EBook #9256]
+First Posted: September 25, 2003
+Last Updated: December 15, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ A WONDER-BOOK FOR GIRLS AND BOYS
+
+ By Nathaniel Hawthorne
+
+
+ THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN
+
+
+
+CONTENTS:
+
+ TANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM--Introductory to “The Paradise of Children”
+ THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN
+ TANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM--After the Story
+
+
+
+
+TANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM.
+
+The golden days of October passed away, as so many other Octobers have,
+and brown November likewise, and the greater part of chill December,
+too. At last came merry Christmas, and Eustace Bright along with it,
+making it all the merrier by his presence. And, the day after his
+arrival from college, there came a mighty snow-storm. Up to this time,
+the winter had held back, and had given us a good many mild days, which
+were like smiles upon its wrinkled visage. The grass had kept itself
+green, in sheltered places, such as the nooks of southern hill-slopes,
+and along the lee of the stone fences. It was but a week or two ago,
+and since the beginning of the month, that the children had found a
+dandelion in bloom, on the margin of Shadow Brook, where it glides out
+of the dell.
+
+But no more green grass and dandelions now. This was such a snow-storm!
+Twenty miles of it might have been visible at once, between the windows
+of Tanglewood and the dome of Taconic, had it been possible to see so
+far, among the eddying drifts that whitened all the atmosphere. It
+seemed as if the hills were giants, and were flinging monstrous handfuls
+of snow at one another, in their enormous sport. So thick were the
+fluttering snow-flakes, that even the trees, midway down the valley,
+were hidden by them the greater part of the time. Sometimes, it is
+true, the little prisoners of Tanglewood could discern a dim outline of
+Monument Mountain, and the smooth whiteness of the frozen lake at its
+base, and the black or gray tracts of woodland in the nearer landscape.
+But these were merely peeps through the tempest.
+
+Nevertheless, the children rejoiced greatly in the snowstorm. They had
+already made acquaintance with it, by tumbling heels over head into its
+highest drifts, and flinging snow at one another, as we have just
+fancied the Berkshire mountains to be doing. And now they had come back
+to their spacious play-room, which was as big as the great drawing-room,
+and was lumbered with all sorts of playthings, large and small. The
+biggest was a rocking-horse, that looked like a real pony; and there was
+a whole family of wooden, waxen, plaster, and china dolls, besides
+rag-babies; and blocks enough to build Bunker Hill Monument, and nine-pins,
+and balls, and humming-tops, and battledores, and grace-sticks, and
+skipping-ropes, and more of such valuable property than I could tell of
+in a printed page. But the children liked the snow-storm better than
+them all. It suggested so many brisk enjoyments for to-morrow, and all
+the remainder of the winter. The sleigh-ride; the slides down hill into
+the valley; the snow-images that were to be shaped out; the snow-fortresses
+that were to be built; and the snow-balling to be carried on!
+
+So the little folks blessed the snow-storm, and were glad to see it come
+thicker and thicker, and watched hopefully the long drift that was
+piling itself up in the avenue, and was already higher than any of their
+heads.
+
+“Why, we shall be blocked up till spring!” cried they, with the hugest
+delight. “What a pity that the house is too high to be quite covered
+up! The little red house, down yonder, will be buried up to its eaves.”
+
+“You silly children, what do you want of more snow?” asked Eustace, who,
+tired of some novel that he was skimming through, had strolled into the
+play-room. “It has done mischief enough already, by spoiling the only
+skating that I could hope for through the winter. We shall see nothing
+more of the lake till April; and this was to have been my first day upon
+it! Don’t you pity me, Primrose?”
+
+“O, to be sure!” answered Primrose, laughing. “But, for your comfort,
+we will listen to another of your old stories, such as you told us
+under the porch, and down in the hollow, by Shadow Brook. Perhaps I
+shall like them better now, when there is nothing to do, than while
+there were nuts to be gathered, and beautiful weather to enjoy.”
+
+Hereupon, Periwinkle, Clover, Sweet Fern, and as many others of the
+little fraternity and cousinhood as were still at Tanglewood, gathered
+about Eustace, and earnestly besought him for a story. The student
+yawned, stretched himself, and then, to the vast admiration of the
+small people, skipped three times hack and forth over the top of a
+chair, in order, as he explained to them, to set his wits in motion.
+
+“Well, well, children,” said he, after these preliminaries, “since you
+insist, and Primrose has set her heart upon it, I will see what can be
+done for you. And, that you may know what happy days there were before
+snowstorms came into fashion, I will tell you a story of the oldest of
+all old times, when the world was as new as Sweet Fern’s bran-new
+humming-top. There was then but one season in the year, and that was
+the delightful summer; and but one age for mortals, and that was
+childhood.”
+
+“I never heard of that before,” said Primrose.
+
+“Of course, you never did,” answered Eustace. “It shall be a story of
+what nobody but myself ever dreamed of,--a Paradise of children,--and
+how, by the naughtiness of just such a little imp as Primrose here, it
+all came to nothing.”
+
+So Eustace Bright sat down in the chair which he had just been skipping
+over, took Cowslip upon his knee, ordered silence throughout the
+auditory, and began a story about a sad naughty child, whose name was
+Pandora, and about her playfellow Epimetheus. You may read it, word for
+word, in the pages that come next.
+
+
+
+THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN.
+
+Long, long ago, when this old world was in its tender infancy, there was
+a child, named Epimetheus, who never had either father or mother; and,
+that he might not be lonely, another child, fatherless and motherless
+like himself, was sent from a far country, to live with him, and be his
+playfellow and helpmate. Her name was Pandora.
+
+The first thing that Pandora saw, when she entered the cottage where
+Epimetheus dwelt, was a great box. And almost the first question which
+she put to him, after crossing the threshold, was this,--
+
+“Epimetheus, what have you in that box?”
+
+“My dear little Pandora,” answered Epimetheus, “that is a secret, and
+you must be kind enough not to ask any questions about it. The box was
+left here to be kept safely, and I do not myself know what it contains.”
+
+“But, who gave it to you?” asked Pandora. “And where did it come
+from?”
+
+“That is a secret, too,” replied Epimetheus.
+
+“How provoking!” exclaimed Pandora, pouting her lip. “I wish the great
+ugly box were out of the way!”
+
+“O come, don’t think of it, any more,” cried Epimetheus. “Let us run
+out of doors, and have some nice play with the other children.”
+
+It is thousands of years since Epimetheus and Pandora were alive; and
+the world, nowadays, is a very different sort of thing from what it was
+in their time. Then, everybody was a child. There needed no fathers
+and mothers to take care of the children; because there was no danger,
+nor trouble of any kind, and no clothes to be mended, and there was
+always plenty to eat and drink. Whenever a child wanted his dinner, he
+found it growing on a tree; and, if he looked at the tree in the
+morning, he could see the expanding blossom of that night’s supper; or,
+at eventide, he saw the tender bud of to-morrow’s breakfast. It was a
+very pleasant life indeed. No labor to be done, no tasks to be studied;
+nothing but sports and dances, and sweet voices of children talking, or
+carolling like birds, or gushing out in merry laughter, throughout the
+livelong day.
+
+What was most wonderful of all, the children never quarrelled among
+themselves; neither had they any crying fits; nor, since time first
+began, had a single one of these little mortals ever gone apart into a
+corner, and sulked. O, what a good time was that to be alive in! The
+truth is, those ugly little winged monsters, called Troubles, which are
+now almost as numerous as mosquitoes, had never yet been seen on the
+earth. It is probable that the very greatest disquietude which a child
+had ever experienced was Pandora’s vexation at not being able to
+discover the secret of the mysterious box.
+
+This was at first only the faint shadow of a Trouble; but, every day, it
+grew more and more substantial, until, before a great while, the cottage
+of Epimetheus and Pandora was less sunshiny than those of the other
+children.
+
+“Whence can the box have come?” Pandora continually kept saying to
+herself and to Epimetheus. “And what in the world can be inside of it?”
+
+“Always talking about this box!” said Epimetheus, at last; for he had
+grown extremely tired of the subject. “I wish, dear Pandora, you would
+try to talk of something else. Come, let us go and gather some ripe
+figs, and eat them under the trees, for our supper. And I know a vine
+that has the sweetest and juiciest grapes you ever tasted.”
+
+“Always talking about grapes and figs!” cried Pandora, pettishly.
+
+“Well, then,” said Epimetheus, who was a very good-tempered child, like a
+multitude of children in those days, “let us run out and have a merry
+time with our playmates.”
+
+“I am tired of merry times, and don’t care if I never have any more!”
+ answered our pettish little Pandora. “And, besides, I never do have
+any. This ugly box! I am so taken up with thinking about it all the
+time. I insist upon your telling me what is inside of it.”
+
+“As I have already said, fifty times over, I do not know!” replied
+Epimetheus, getting a little vexed. “How, then, can I tell you what is
+inside?”
+
+“You might open it,” said Pandora, looking sideways at Epimetheus, “and
+then we could see for ourselves.”
+
+“Pandora, what are you thinking of?” exclaimed Epimetheus.
+
+And his face expressed so much horror at the idea of looking into a box,
+which had been confided to him on the condition of his never opening it,
+that Pandora thought it best not to suggest it any more. Still,
+however, she could not help thinking and talking about the box.
+
+“At least,” said she, “you can tell me how it came here.”
+
+“It was left at the door,” replied Epimetheus, “just before you came, by
+a person who looked very smiling and intelligent, and who could hardly
+forbear laughing as he put it down. He was dressed in an-odd kind of a
+cloak, and had on a cap that seemed to be made partly of feathers, so
+that it looked almost as if it had wings.”
+
+“What sort of a staff had he?” asked Pandora.
+
+“O, the most curious staff you ever saw!” cried Epimetheus. “It was
+like two serpents twisting around a stick, and was carved so naturally
+that I, at first, bought the serpents were alive.”
+
+“I know him,” said Pandora, thoughtfully. “Nobody else has such a
+staff. It was Quicksilver; and he brought one hither, as well as the
+box. No doubt he intended it for me; and, most probably, it contains
+pretty dresses for me to wear, or toys for you and me to play with, or
+something very nice for us both to eat!”
+
+“Perhaps so,” answered Epimetheus, turning away.
+
+“But until Quicksilver comes back and tells us so, we have neither of us
+any right to lift the lid of the box.”
+
+“What a dull boy he is!” muttered Pandora, as Epimetheus left the
+cottage. “I do wish he had a little more enterprise!”
+
+For the first time since her arrival, Epimetheus had gone out without
+asking Pandora to accompany him. He went to gather figs and grapes by
+himself, or to seek whatever amusement he could find, in other society
+than his little playfellow’s. He was tired to death of hearing about
+the box, and heartily wished that Quicksilver, or whatever was the
+messenger’s name, had left it at some other child’s door, where Pandora
+would never have set eyes on it. So perseveringly as she did babble
+about this one thing! The box, the box, and nothing but the box! It
+seemed as if the box were bewitched, and as if the cottage were not big
+enough to hold it, without Pandora’s continually stumbling over it, and
+making Epimetheus stumble over it likewise, and bruising all four of
+their shins.
+
+Well, it was really hard that poor Epimetheus should have a box in his
+ears from morning till night; especially as the little people of the
+earth were so unaccustomed to vexations, in those happy days, that they
+knew not how to deal with them. Thus, a small vexation made as much
+disturbance, then, as a far bigger one would, in our own times.
+
+After Epimetheus was gone, Pandora stood gazing at the box. She had
+called it ugly, above a hundred times; but, in spite of all that she had
+said against it, it was positively a very handsome article of furniture,
+and would have been quite an ornament to any room in which it should be
+placed. It was made of a beautiful kind of wood, with dark and rich
+veins spreading over its surface, which was so highly polished that
+little Pandora could see her face in it. As the child had no other
+looking-glass, it is odd that she did not value the box, merely on this
+account.
+
+The edges and corners of the box were carved with most wonderful skill.
+Around the margin there were figures of graceful men and women, and the
+prettiest children ever seen, reclining or sporting amid a profusion of
+flowers and foliage; and these various objects were so exquisitely
+represented, and were wrought together in such harmony, that flowers,
+foliage, and human beings seemed to combine into a wreath of mingled
+beauty. But here and there, peeping forth from behind the carved
+foliage, Pandora once or twice fancied that she saw a face not so
+lovely, or something or other that was disagreeable, and which stole the
+beauty out of all the rest. Nevertheless, on looking more closely, and
+touching the spot with her finger, she could discover nothing of the
+kind. Some face, that was really beautiful, had been made to look ugly
+by her catching a sideway glimpse at it.
+
+The most beautiful face of all was done in what is called high relief,
+in the centre of the lid. There was nothing else, save the dark, smooth
+richness of the polished wood, and this one face in the centre, with a
+garland of flowers about its brow. Pandora had looked at this face a
+great many times, and imagined that the mouth could smile if it liked,
+or be grave when it chose, the same as any living mouth. The features,
+indeed, all wore a very lively and rather mischievous expression, which
+looked almost as if it needs must burst out of the carved lips, and
+utter itself in words.
+
+Had the mouth spoken, it would probably have been something like this:
+
+“Do not be afraid, Pandora! What harm can there be in opening the box?
+Never mind that poor, simple Epimetheus! You are wiser than he, and
+have ten times as much spirit. Open the box, and see if you do not find
+something very pretty!”
+
+The box, I had almost forgotten to say, was fastened; not by a lock, nor
+by any other such contrivance, but by a very intricate knot of gold
+cord. There appeared to be no end to this knot, and no beginning.
+Never was a knot so cunningly twisted, nor with so many ins and outs,
+which roguishly defied the skilfullest fingers to disentangle them. And
+yet, by the very difficulty that there was in it, Pandora was the more
+tempted to examine the knot, and just see how it was made. Two or three
+times, already, she had stooped over the box, and taken the knot between
+her thumb and forefinger, but without positively trying to undo it.
+
+“I really believe,” said she to herself, “that I begin to see how it was
+done. Nay, perhaps I could tie it up again, after undoing it. There
+would be no harm in that, surely. Even Epimetheus would not blame me
+for that. I need not open the box, and should not, of course, without
+the foolish boy’s consent, even if the knot were untied.”
+
+It might have been better for Pandora if she had had a little work to
+do, or anything to employ her mind upon, so as not to be so constantly
+thinking of this one subject. But children led so easy a life, before
+any Troubles came into the world, that they had really a great deal too
+much leisure. They could not be forever playing at hide-and-seek among
+the flower-shrubs, or at blind-man’s-buff with garlands over their eyes,
+or at whatever other games had been found out, while Mother Earth was in
+her babyhood. When life is all sport, toil is the real play. There was
+absolutely nothing to do. A little sweeping and dusting about the
+cottage, I suppose, and the gathering of fresh flowers (which were only
+too abundant everywhere), and arranging them in vases,--and poor little
+Pandora’s day’s work was over. And then, for the rest of the day, there
+was the box!
+
+After all, I am not quite sure that the box was not a blessing to her in
+its way. It supplied her with such a variety of ideas to think of, and
+to talk about, whenever she had anybody to listen! When she was in good
+humor, she could admire the bright polish of its sides, and the rich
+border of beautiful faces and foliage that ran all around it. Or, if
+she chanced to be ill-tempered, she could give it a push, or kick it
+with her naughty little foot. And many a kick did the box--(but it was
+a mischievous box, as we shall see, and deserved all it got)--many a
+kick did it receive. But, certain it is, if it had not been for the
+box, our active-minded little Pandora would not have known half so well
+how to spend her time as she now did.
+
+For it was really an endless employment to guess what was inside. What
+could it be, indeed? Just imagine, my little hearers, how busy your
+wits would be, if there were a great box in the house, which, as you
+might have reason to suppose, contained something new and pretty for
+your Christmas or New-Year’s gifts. Do you think that you should be
+less curious than Pandora? If you were left alone with the box, might
+you not feel a little tempted to lift the lid? But you would not do it.
+O, fie! No, no! Only, if you thought there were toys in it, it would
+be so very hard to let slip an opportunity of taking just one peep! I
+know not whether Pandora expected any toys; for none had yet begun to be
+made, probably, in those days, when the world itself was one great
+plaything for the children that dwelt upon it. But Pandora was
+convinced that there was something very beautiful and valuable in the
+box; and therefore she felt just as anxious to take a peep as any of
+these little girls, here around me, would have felt. And, possibly, a
+little more so; but of that I am not quite so certain.
+
+On this particular day, however, which we have so long been talking
+about, her curiosity grew so much greater than it usually was, that, at
+last, she approached the box. She was more than half determined to open
+it, if she could. Ah, naughty Pandora!
+
+First, however, she tried to lift it. It was heavy; quite too heavy for
+the slender strength of a child, like Pandora. She raised one end of
+the box a few inches from the floor, and let it fall again, with a
+pretty loud thump. A moment afterwards, she almost fancied that she
+heard something stir, inside of the box. She applied her ear as closely
+as possible, and listened. Positively, there did seem to be a kind of
+stifled murmur, within! Or was it merely the singing in Pandora’s ears?
+Or could it be the beating of her heart? The child could not quite
+satisfy herself whether she had heard anything or no. But, at all
+events, her curiosity was stronger than ever.
+
+As she drew back her head, her eyes fell upon the knot of gold cord.
+
+“It must have been a very ingenious person who tied this knot,” said
+Pandora to herself. “But I think I could untie it, nevertheless. I am
+resolved, at least, to find the two ends of the cord.”
+
+So she took the golden knot in her fingers, and pried into its
+intricacies as sharply as she could. Almost without intending it, or
+quite knowing what she was about, she was soon busily engaged in
+attempting to undo it. Meanwhile, the bright sunshine came through the
+open window; as did likewise the merry voices of the children, playing
+at a distance, and perhaps the voice of Epimetheus among then. Pandora
+stopped to listen. What a beautiful day it was! Would it not be wiser,
+if she were to let the troublesome knot alone, and think no more about
+the box, but run and join her little playfellows, and be happy?
+
+All this time, however, her fingers were half unconsciously busy with
+the knot; and happening to glance at the flower-wreathed face on the lid
+of the enchanted box, she seemed to perceive it slyly grinning at her.
+
+“That face looks very mischievous,” thought Pandora. “I wonder whether
+it smiles because I am doing wrong! I have the greatest mind in the
+world to run away!”
+
+But just then, by the merest accident, she gave the knot a kind of a
+twist, which produced a wonderful result. The gold cord untwined
+itself, as if by magic, and left the box without a fastening.
+
+“This is the strangest thing I ever knew!” said Pandora. “What will
+Epimetheus say? And how can I possibly tie it up again?”
+
+She made one or two attempts to restore the knot, but soon found it
+quite beyond her skill. It had disentangled itself so suddenly that she
+could not in the least remember how the strings had been doubled into
+one another; and when she tried to recollect the shape and appearance of
+the knot, it seemed to have gone entirely out of her mind. Nothing was
+to be done, therefore, but to let the box remain as it was, until
+Epimetheus should come in.
+
+“But,” said Pandora, “when he finds the knot untied, he will know that I
+have done it. How shall I make him believe that I have not looked into
+the box?”
+
+And then the thought came into her naughty little heart, that, since she
+would be suspected of having looked into the box, she might just as well
+do so, at once. O, very naughty and very foolish Pandora! You should
+have thought only of doing what was right, and of leaving undone what
+was wrong, and not of what your playfellow Epimetheus would have said or
+believed. And so perhaps she might, if the enchanted face on the lid of
+the box had not looked so bewitchingly persuasive at her, and if she had
+not seemed to hear, more distinctly than before, the murmur of small
+voices within. She could not tell whether it was fancy or no; but there
+was quite a little tumult of whispers in her ear,--or else it was her
+curiosity that whispered,
+
+“Let us out, dear Pandora,--pray let us out! We will be such nice
+pretty playfellows for you! Only let us out!”
+
+“What can it be?” thought Pandora. “Is there something alive in the
+box? Well!--yes!--I am resolved to take just one peep! Only one peep;
+and then the lid shall be shut down as safely as ever! There cannot
+possibly be any harm in just one little peep!”
+
+But it is now time for us to see what Epimetheus was doing.
+
+This was the first time, since his little playmate had come to dwell
+with him, that he had attempted to enjoy any pleasure in which she did
+not partake. But nothing went right; nor was he nearly so happy as on
+other days. He could not find a sweet grape or a ripe fig (if
+Epimetheus had a fault, it was a little too much fondness for figs); or,
+if ripe at all, they were over-ripe, and so sweet as to be cloying.
+There was no mirth in his heart, such as usually made his voice gush
+out, of its own accord, and swell the merriment of his companions. In
+short, he grew so uneasy and discontented, that the other children could
+not imagine what was the matter with Epimetheus. Neither did he himself
+know what ailed him, any better than they did. For you must recollect,
+that at the time we are speaking of, it was everybody’s nature, and
+constant habit, to be happy. The world had not yet learned to be
+otherwise. Not a single soul or body, since these children were first
+sent to enjoy themselves on the beautiful earth, had ever been sick, or
+out of sorts.
+
+At length, discovering that, somehow or other, he put a stop to all the
+play, Epimetheus judged it best to go back to Pandora, who was in a
+humor better suited to his own. But, with a hope of giving her
+pleasure, he gathered some flowers, and made them into a wreath, which
+he meant to put upon her head. The flowers were very lovely,--roses,
+and lilies, and orange-blossoms, and a great many more, which left a
+trail of fragrance behind, as Epimetheus carried them along; and the
+wreath was put together with as much skill as could reasonably be
+expected of a boy. The fingers of little girls, it has always appeared
+to me, are the fittest to twine flower-wreaths; but boys could do it, in
+those days, rather better than they can now.
+
+And here I must mention that a great black cloud had been gathering in
+the sky, for some time past, although it had not yet overspread the sun.
+But, just as Epimetheus reached the cottage door, this cloud began to
+intercept the sunshine, and thus to make a sudden and sad obscurity.
+
+He entered softly; for he meant, if possible, to steal behind Pandora,
+and fling the wreath of flowers over her head, before she should be
+aware of his approach. But, as it happened, there was no need of his
+treading so very lightly. He might have trod as heavily as he
+pleased,--as heavily as a grown man,--as heavily, I was going to say, as
+an elephant,--without much probability of Pandora’s hearing his footsteps.
+She was too intent upon her purpose. At the moment of his entering the
+cottage, the naughty child had put her hand to the lid, and was on the
+point of opening the mysterious box. Epimetheus beheld her. If he had
+cried out, Pandora would probably have withdrawn her hand, and the fatal
+mystery of the box might never have been known.
+
+But Epimetheus himself, although he said very little about it, had his
+own share of curiosity to know what was inside. Perceiving that Pandora
+was resolved to find out the secret, he determined that his playfellow
+should not be the only wise person in the cottage. And if there were
+anything pretty or valuable in the box, he meant to take half of it to
+himself. Thus, after all his sage speeches to Pandora about restraining
+her curiosity, Epimetheus turned out to be quite as foolish, and nearly
+as much in fault, as she. So, whenever we blame Pandora for what
+happened, we must not forget to shake our heads at Epimetheus likewise.
+
+As Pandora raised the lid, the cottage grew very dark and dismal; for
+the black cloud had now swept quite over the sun, and seemed to have
+buried it alive. There had, for a little while past, been a low
+growling and muttering, which all at once broke into a heavy peal of
+thunder. But Pandora, heeding nothing of all this, lifted the lid
+nearly upright, and looked inside. It seemed as if a sudden swarm of
+winged creatures brushed past her, taking flight out of the box, while,
+at the same instant, she heard the voice of Epimetheus, with a
+lamentable tone, as if he were in pain.
+
+“O, I am stung!” cried he. “I am stung! Naughty Pandora! why have you
+opened this wicked box?”
+
+Pandora let fall the lid, and, starting up, looked about her, to see
+what had befallen Epimetheus. The thundercloud had so darkened the room
+that she could not very clearly discern what was in it. But she heard a
+disagreeable buzzing, as if a great many huge flies, or gigantic
+mosquitoes, or those insects which we call dorbugs and pinching-dogs,
+were darting about. And, as her eyes grew more accustomed to the
+imperfect light, she saw a crowd of ugly little shapes, with bats’
+wings, looking abominably spiteful, and armed with terribly long stings
+in their tails. It was one of these that had stung Epimetheus. Nor was
+it a great while before Pandora herself began to scream, in no less pain
+and affright than her playfellow, and making a vast deal more hubbub
+about it. An odious little monster had settled on her forehead, and
+would have stung her I know not how deeply, if Epimetheus had not run
+and brushed it away.
+
+Now, if you wish to know what these ugly things might be, which had made
+their escape out of the box, I must tell you that they were the whole
+family of earthly Troubles. There were evil Passions; there were a
+great many species of Cares; there were more than a hundred and fifty
+Sorrows; there were Diseases, in a vast number of miserable and painful
+shapes; there were more kinds of Naughtiness than it would be of any use
+to talk about. In short, everything that has since afflicted the souls
+and bodies of mankind had been shut up in the mysterious box, and given
+to Epimetheus and Pandora to be kept safely, in order that the happy
+children of the world might never be molested by them. Had they been
+faithful to their trust, all would have gone well. No grown person
+would ever have been sad, nor any child have had cause to shed a single
+tear, from that hour until this moment.
+
+But--and you may see by this how a wrong act of any one mortal is a
+calamity to the whole world--by Pandora’s lifting the lid of that
+miserable box, and by the fault of Epimetheus, too, in not preventing
+her, these Troubles have obtained a foothold among us, and do not seem
+very likely to be driven away in a hurry. For it was impossible, as you
+will easily guess, that the two children should keep the ugly swarm in
+their own little cottage. On the contrary, the first thing that they
+did was to fling open the doors and windows, in hopes of getting rid of
+them; and, sure enough, away flew the winged Troubles all abroad, and so
+pestered and tormented the small people, everywhere about, that none of
+them so much as smiled for many days afterwards. And, what was very
+singular, all the flowers and dewy blossoms on earth, not one of which
+had hitherto faded, now began to droop and shed their leaves, after a
+day or two. The children, moreover, who before seemed immortal in their
+childhood, now grew older, day by day, and came soon to be youths and
+maidens, and men and women by and by, and aged people, before they
+dreamed of such a thing.
+
+Meanwhile, the naughty Pandora, and hardly less naughty Epimetheus,
+remained in their cottage. Both of them had been grievously stung, and
+were in a good deal of pain, which seemed the more intolerable to them,
+because it was the very first pain that had ever been felt since the
+world began. Of course, they were entirely unaccustomed to it, and
+could have no idea what it meant. Besides all this, they were in
+exceedingly bad humor, both with themselves and with one another. In
+order to indulge it to the utmost, Epimetheus sat down sullenly in a
+corner with his back towards Pandora; while Pandora flung herself upon
+the floor and rested her head on the fatal and abominable box. She was
+crying bitterly, and sobbing as if her heart would break.
+
+Suddenly there was a gentle little tap, on the inside of the lid.
+
+“What can that be?” cried Pandora, lifting her head.
+
+But either Epimetheus had not heard the tap, or was too much out of
+humor to notice it. At any rate, he made no answer.
+
+“You are very unkind,” said Pandora, sobbing anew, “not to speak to me!”
+
+Again the tap! It sounded like the tiny knuckles of a fairy’s hand,
+knocking lightly and playfully on the inside of the box.
+
+“Who are you?” asked Pandora, with a little of her former curiosity.
+“Who are you, inside of this naughty box?”
+
+A sweet little voice spoke from within,--
+
+“Only lift the lid, and you shall see.”
+
+“No, no,” answered Pandora, again beginning to sob, “I have had enough
+of lifting the lid! You are inside of the box, naughty creature, and
+there you shall stay! There are plenty of your ugly brothers and
+sisters already flying about the world. You need never think that I
+shall be so foolish as to let you out!”
+
+She looked towards Epimetheus, as she spoke, perhaps expecting that he
+would commend her for her wisdom. But the sullen boy only muttered that
+she was wise a little too late.
+
+“Ah,” said the sweet little voice again, “you had much better let me
+out. I am not like those naughty creatures that have stings in their
+tails. They are no brothers and sisters of mine, as you would see at
+once, if you were only to get a glimpse of me. Come, come, my pretty
+Pandora! I am sure you will let me out!”
+
+And, indeed, there was a kind of cheerful witchery in the tone, that
+made it almost impossible to refuse anything which this little voice
+asked. Pandora’s heart had insensibly grown lighter, at every word that
+came from within the box. Epimetheus, too, though still in the corner,
+had turned half round, and seemed to be in rather better spirits than
+before.
+
+“My dear Epimetheus,” cried Pandora, “have you heard this little voice?”
+
+“Yes, to be sure I have,” answered he, but in no very good-humor as yet.
+“And what of it?”
+
+“Shall I lift the lid again?” asked Pandora.
+
+“Just as you please,” said Epimetheus. “You have done so much mischief
+already, that perhaps you may as well do a little more. One other
+Trouble, in such a swarm as you have set adrift about the world, can
+make no very great difference.”
+
+“You might speak a little more kindly!” murmured Pandora, wiping her
+eyes.
+
+“Ah, naughty boy!” cried the little voice within the box, in an arch and
+laughing tone. “He knows he is longing to see me. Come, my dear
+Pandora, lift up the lid. I am in a great hurry to comfort you. Only
+let me have some fresh air, and you shall soon see that matters are not
+quite so dismal as you think them!”
+
+“Epimetheus,” exclaimed Pandora, “come what may, I am resolved to open
+the box!”
+
+“And, as the lid seems very heavy,” cried Epimetheus, running across the
+room, “I will help you!”
+
+So, with one consent, the two children again lifted the lid. Out flew a
+sunny and smiling little personage, and hovered about the room, throwing
+a light wherever she went. Have you never made the sunshine dance into
+dark corners, by reflecting it from a bit of looking-glass? Well, so
+looked the winged cheerfulness of this fairylike stranger, amid the
+gloom of the cottage. She flew to Epimetheus, and laid the least touch
+of her finger on the inflamed spot where the Trouble had stung him, and
+immediately the anguish of it was gone. Then she kissed Pandora on the
+forehead, and her hurt was cured likewise.
+
+After performing these good offices, the bright stranger fluttered
+sportively over the children’s heads, and looked so sweetly at them,
+that they both began to think it not so very much amiss to have opened
+the box, since, otherwise, their cheery guest must have been kept a
+prisoner among those naughty imps with stings in their tails.
+
+“Pray, who are you, beautiful creature?” inquired Pandora.
+
+“I am to be called Hope!” answered the sunshiny figure. “And because I
+am such a cheery little body, I was packed into the box, to make amends
+to the human race for that swarm of ugly Troubles, which was destined to
+be let loose among them. Never fear! we shall do pretty well, in spite
+of them all.”
+
+“Your wings are colored like the rainbow!” exclaimed Pandora. “How
+very beautiful!”
+
+“Yes, they are like the rainbow,” said Hope, “because glad as my nature
+is, I am partly made of tears as well as smiles.”
+
+“And will you stay with us,” asked Epimetheus, “for ever and ever?”
+
+“As long as you need me,” said Hope, with her pleasant smile,--“and that
+will be as long as you live in the world,--I promise never to desert
+you. There may come times and seasons, now and then, when you will
+think that I have utterly vanished. But again, and again, and again,
+when perhaps you least dream of it, you shall see the glimmer of my
+wings on the ceiling of your cottage. Yes, my dear children, and I know
+something very good and beautiful that is to be given you hereafter!”
+
+“O tell us,” they exclaimed,--“tell us what it is!”
+
+“Do not ask me,” replied Hope, putting her finger on her rosy mouth.
+“But do not despair, even if it should never happen while you live on
+this earth. Trust in my promise, for it is true.”
+
+“We do trust you!” cried Epimetheus and Pandora, both in one breath.
+
+And so they did; and not only they, but so has everybody trusted Hope,
+that has since been alive. And, to tell you the truth, I cannot help
+being glad--(though, to be sure, it was an uncommonly naughty thing for
+her to do)-but I cannot help being glad that our foolish Pandora peeped
+into the box. No doubt--no doubt--the Troubles are still flying about
+the world, and have increased in multitude, rather than lessened, and
+are a very ugly set of imps, and carry most venomous stings in their
+tails. I have felt them already, and expect to feel them more, as I
+grow older. But then that lovely and lightsome little figure of Hope!
+What in the world could we do without her? Hope spiritualizes the
+earth; Hope makes it always new; and, even in the earth’s best and
+brightest aspect, Hope shows it to be only the shadow of an infinite
+bliss hereafter!
+
+
+
+TANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM.
+
+AFTER THE STORY.
+
+“Primrose,” asked Eustace, pinching her ear, “how do you like my little
+Pandora? Don’t you think her the exact picture of yourself? But you
+would not have hesitated half so long about opening the box.”
+
+“Then I should have been well punished for my naughtiness,” retorted
+Primrose, smartly; “for the first thing to pop out, after the lid was
+lifted, would have been Mr. Eustace Bright, in the shape of a Trouble.”
+
+“Cousin Eustace,” said Sweet Fern, “did the box hold all the trouble
+that has ever come into the world?”
+
+“Every mite of it!” answered Eustace. “This very snow-storm, which has
+spoiled my skating, was packed up there.”
+
+“And how big was the box?” asked Sweet Fern. “Why, perhaps three feet
+long,” said Eustace, “two feet wide, and two feet and a half high.”
+
+“Ah,” said the child, “you are making fun of me, Cousin Eustace! I know
+there is not trouble enough in the world to fill such a great box as
+that. As for the snow-storm, it is no trouble at all, but a pleasure;
+so it could not have been in the box.”
+
+“Hear the child!” cried Primrose, with an air of superiority. “How
+little he knows about the troubles of this world! Poor fellow! He will
+be wiser when he has seen as much of life as I have.”
+
+So saying, she began to skip the rope.
+
+Meantime, the day was drawing towards its close. Out of doors the scene
+certainly looked dreary. There was a gray drift, far and wide, through
+the gathering twilight; the earth was as pathless as the air; and the
+bank of snow over the steps of the porch proved that nobody had entered
+or gone out for a good many hours past. Had there been only one child
+at the window of Tanglewood, gazing at this wintry prospect, it would
+perhaps have made him sad. But half a dozen children together, though
+they cannot quite turn the world into a paradise, may defy old Winter
+and all his storms to put them out of spirits. Eustace Bright,
+moreover, on the spur of the moment, invented several new kinds of play,
+which kept them all in a roar of merriment till bedtime, and served for
+the next stormy day besides.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg’s The Paradise of Children, by Nathaniel Hawthorne
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