The Broken Mirror.
When Jessie saw Hugh getting ready to go to school, after dinner, she
thought of her notes which were still lying very snugly in her
work-basket. There were four of them: one for Mr. Sherwood, one for
Richard Duncan, one for Adolphus Harding, and one for Norman Butler.
Taking them from beneath her working materials, she held them up, and
turning to Hugh, who was on his way to the door, said--
"Hugh, I want you to do me a little favor!"
"I dare say. You girls are always asking favors. But what now?"
"Not much, Hugh, I only want you to take these notes for me."
"Notes, eh?" said Hugh, taking the neatly folded letters in his hand, and
reading the addresses. After reading them all aloud, he placed them in a
pack and added. "Pretty business, I think, for a young lady like you to be
writing to the boys? Oh, for shame, Jessie Carlton! I thought you were too
modest to do that!"
"There's nothing improper in my notes, master Hugh! Uncle Morris read one
of them, and he says they are very sweet and proper. Will you please take
them for me?"
"Yes, if you will pay me the postage on them. You know that Uncle Sam gets
his pay beforehand, and I must have mine. So hand me over twelve cents,
and I'll carry your notes. Come, be quick! Hand over your money! It is
time I was gone."
"O Hugh, don't tease so," said Jessie.
"Do you call it _teasing_ to ask for your pay when you are going to work
for anybody!" asked Hugh, with a very tantalizing air.
Just then Guy passed through the parlor, and seeing that Jessie was
getting tired with her vexatious brother, he asked what was the matter.
She told him. He took the notes from Hugh, who was only too glad to give
them up, and said--
"I'll take them for you, Jessie."
"You are a dear, good brother, and I love you ever so much," said Jessie,
holding up her lips for a kiss.
Guy kissed his sister and hurried away to school, happy in the thought
that he was contributing to her pleasure, while Hugh went out with a cold,
uneasy heart, and murmuring to himself--
"I don't see why I should wait all the time on Miss Jessie; she's big
enough to carry her own letters."
Could Hugh have exchanged feelings with Guy, he would have learned that
little acts of love and kindness bring rich returns into the hearts of
those who perform them; and then, perhaps, he would have seen at least one
reason why he should "wait all the time on Miss Jessie."
It happened that afternoon to blow up cold and rainy, so that Jessie and
her young guests could not play out of doors. The bright fire in the grate
tempted them into the parlor, where they amused themselves in various
ways. At last, wearied with quiet games, master Charlie said--
"Let us play blind-man's-buff?"
"Oh yes, do, Jessie! It's such good fun," said Emily.
"I like it first rate," said Jessie. "Who will be blind-man first?"
"I will," said Emily, in a very positive tone of voice.
"No, you won't, either, I shall be blind-man first," said Charlie.
"Well, I say you _shan't_. There now!" cried Emily, stamping the floor
with her little foot.
"But I tell you I _will_!" retorted Charlie with anger.
"Hush! Charlie dear," said Jessie, in soothing tones. "Let Emily be
blind-man first, for, you know, polite boys always give way to young
ladies."
"Well, I won't, I don't want to be polite, I want to be blind-man first,
and I WILL," rejoined Charlie, as the fire flashed from his eyes.
"Then I won't play at all," said Emily, going to an ottoman and seating
herself in a very sulky mood.
Thus did these unamiable cousins spoil their own pleasure, and give pain
to Jessie by their selfish quarrel. In vain did she try to soothe and coax
them into good-nature for some time. At last, tired of the attempt, she
rose up, and said--
"Well, if you won't play, I'll go into the library and have a good talk
with my Uncle Morris."
This movement made Emily feel slightly ashamed of herself. She was
unwilling, too, to be left alone with her brother. So she jumped up, and
with a forced smile, said--
"Don't go, Jessie, I'll let Charlie be blind-man."
"I've a great mind not to play with you at all now," growled Charlie.
"Oh yes, do, there's a dear, good Charlie," said Jessie, as she approached
him, "See! here is the handkerchief, let me tie it over your eyes so that
you won't be able to see the least bit of a mite! I don't think you will
be able to catch me before tea-time."
This challenge did more to drive the sulks out of Charlie than the
coaxing. Charles held his head forward to be bound, while he replied--
"Can't I catch you! I'll bet a dollar I catch you in less than five
minutes!"
"Young ladies _don't bet_, and Uncle Morris says that boys _shouldn't_,
because it's wicked," said Jessie, while she busied herself tying the
handkerchief. When the knot was fast, she said--
"Now let us see how skilful my cousin Charlie can be!"
Up jumped Charlie, spreading out his arms, and darting now this way and
then that, as the steps and voices of the girls led him round the room.
Merrily rang out the laugh of Jessie, and the ohs and ahs of her cousin,
as they bounded past Charlie, ran round him, or darted out of the reach of
his nimble fingers. So spry were they, that ten minutes elapsed and the
blinded boy had not caught either of them. At last, he followed them close
to one end of the parlor until he found himself clasping the large mirror
which reached almost to the floor. Stepping back he tripped over a low
ottoman, fell backwards, and bumped his head. Half in vexation, and half
in sport he threw up his heels, and just as Jessie cried, "Mind the glass,
Charlie!" brought down his legs with a crash on the surface of the
mirror.
"Oh dear! He has broken the big mirror!" cried Jessie, in great distress.
"What will my father say!"
"Keep still, you stupid, mischievous boy!" said Emily as she tried to pull
the bandage from Charlie's eyes.
"I couldn't help it!" said he, as rising to his feet, and rubbing his
eyes, he stood staring on the ruin his feet had wrought on the lower half
of the mirror.
"My pa paid a good deal of money for that mirror," said Jessie, "and he
will be very angry with us, when he comes home to-night. I'm _so_ sorry."
"That's just like you, you stupid little monkey," said Emily, shaking
Charlie somewhat rudely by the shoulder. "You are always doing some
outrageous thing or another!"
"I couldn't help it! Let me alone!" muttered Charlie, shaking his sister's
hand from his shoulder.
"You _could_ help it," replied Emily.
"There, take that!" said Charlie, striking his sister a heavy blow on the
shoulder with his fist.
Emily was about to strike back, but Jessie stepped between them, and
separating them, said:
"O Emily! don't strike your brother! It's _so_ wicked, you know, for
brothers and sisters to fight." Then turning to Charlie, she added, "Don't
you know how mean it is for a boy to strike a girl? Boys should protect
girls, and not beat them. If you hit Emily again, I shall not be able to
love you any more."
Charlie turned away, and seating himself in a chair, began to suck his
thumb, while he gazed on the broken glass which was spread over the
carpet. Just then, old Rover, finding the parlor door ajar, pushed it
open, and walked up to his young mistress, wagging his tail, and rubbing
her hand with his nose, which was his way of saying, "I hope you are glad
to see me, this afternoon."
Jessie patted his head, and sat down wearing a very grave face. Rover
thought something was amiss, but not knowing how to inquire into the
matter, after a few more rubs of his nose upon his little lady's hand,
laid down, and looked wistfully into her eyes.
Rover's presence put a new idea into the evil mind of Emily. She turned it
over silently a few moments, and then said:
"Jessie! I have just thought of a capital way of getting out of this
scrape about the mirror."
"Have you?" replied her cousin. "I don't see how you can do that, unless
you can get some fairy to mend it for us, and I guess there are no good
fairies, to do such things for unlucky girls and boys, now-a-days."
"_Fairies_ indeed!" retorted Emily with a sneer. "I don't believe in
_fairies_. My plan is to tell your mother, that while Rover was playing
with us, he bounced against the mirror, and broke it to smash."
"O Emily! I would not tell such a wicked story to save my life!" rejoined
Jessie.
"Well, I would; I've got out of many a bad scrape, by fixing up some such
story as that. And it is so _natural_, you see, for a big dog to bounce
against a glass which is so near the floor as this one, that your folks
will easily believe it."
"O Emily! Emily! How can you talk so?" said Jessie, gazing at her cousin
with an expression of pity and surprise.
"She talks just right," said Charlie. "It's a first-rate story, and will
get us out of the scrape nicely. Bravo, Emily! I won't hit you again for
ever so long."
Jessie was horror-struck to hear her cousins talk in this cool and
hardened manner. To her mind a lie was of all things the most mean and
wicked. She had just shown her hatred of it, by her penitence for merely
acting a lie in fun. But this proposal to tell a downright lie, for the
purpose of escaping the consequences of an unlucky accident, looked like
asking her to commit a very shocking crime. She felt a shudder creep over
her, and shrinking from her cousins, as if they had been deadly serpents,
she pushed her chair back a yard or two, and said:
"Emily, I would die before I would tell such a lie. I hope you won't think
of doing it. It's _so_ wicked, Emily. If you could deceive my pa and ma,
you couldn't deceive God, who saw Charlie break the mirror. Don't do it,
Emily, please don't?"
"We will do it too, and if you peach on us, we'll say it was your fault
that Rover did it. How will you like that, Miss Jessie!" said Charlie.
"I will tell my father the exact truth about it," said Jessie, rising to
her feet.
"Very well, Miss Tell Tale," retorted Emily. "We'll fix you then. Charlie
and I will say that you threw the ottoman against the mirror, and broke it
yourself, won't we, Charlie?"
"Yes, and they will believe both of us, because they will think you are
lying to escape being whipped for your fault. Ah! ah! Miss Jessie, we'll
fix you, see if we don't!" and Charlie held up his finger, and grinned in
his cousin's face.
"My father knows I wouldn't tell a lie," replied Jessie firmly; "and I do
hope you won't, for oh! it is _so_ wicked, and _so_ mean. Nobody loves,
trusts, or believes a liar. Please Charlie, please Emily, let me tell pa
just how it happened. He won't be very angry. I know he won't. But if he
is, I will tell him to whip me, instead of scolding Charlie."
Charlie winced under this noble speech of Jessie's, and for a moment was
inclined to yield. But his sister's temper was roused, and she urged him
to stick to her, and to say that Jessie threw the ottoman, "and now," said
she, "I will go and tell my aunt directly."
Jessie turned pale; not with fear for herself, but because she shrank from
a conflict with her cousins, in her mother's presence. Fortunately, a
happy thought came into her mind, and rising, she whispered to herself,
"Yes, I will go and ask Uncle Morris to come in." And Jessie glided into
the library.
Her uncle was not there. He had left it an hour before, and feeling
slightly dozy had gone into the back parlor to catch a little nap on the
sofa. This parlor was separated from the one in which the children had
been playing only by folding-doors. Their noise at blind-man's-buff, had
roused him from his nap, and he had heard all that afterwards passed
between them. When, therefore, Emily went to tell Mrs. Carlton her great
lie, he thought it was time for him to interfere. So he passed round by
the hall into the front parlor, just as Jessie with her sad face was
returning from the library.
"Oh, I'm so glad you are here, Uncle Morris!" exclaimed Jessie, her face
brightening and growing much shorter. "Please come into the parlor."
The good old man kissed his niece with even unusual tenderness, and led
her into the parlor.
"Hoity toity!" cried he, as he looked on the fragments of the broken
mirror. "Somebody's been playing the mischief here. What's been the
matter?"
"Jessie did it!" said Charlie, with a dogged air.
"Yes, sir! Jessie threw an ottoman at me, and it struck the mirror. Didn't
she, Charlie?" said Emily, coming up to Uncle Morris, with Mrs. Carlton
behind her.
"Yes, Jessie did it, and no mistake!" said Charlie, boldly.
"O Jessie! how could you be so careless! That mirror cost a hundred
dollars, a few months ago. Your father will feel very angry," said Mrs.
Carlton with a grieved look.
"I did not break it, Ma!" said Jessie calmly.
"She did!" "She did!" said Charlie and his sister in the same moment.
"Ma, I did not break the mirror," rejoined Jessie, calmly. "If I had done
it, I would confess it. You know I wouldn't lie, Mother, don't you?"
"I certainly have great faith in your truthfulness, my child," replied
Mrs. Carlton; "but why are your cousins so positive in charging you with
it?"
Jessie stated the facts just as they had taken place. Her cousins repeated
their story. Mrs. Carlton was perplexed. Turning to Uncle Morris, she
said:
"Brother, what do you think? On which side is the truth?"
"On Jessie's, of course, sister. Could you question the truth of that pure
face! It would break my heart if Jessie could tell such a lie as these
wicked ones here have told! But she couldn't do it. It's not in her nature
to do it. Heaven bless her!"
He then stated what he had overheard from the sofa in the back parlor, and
closed by saying, "These children had better go home to-morrow. They are
wicked enough to corrupt an angel, almost. The proverb says, _eggs ought
not to dance with stones_, and I cannot endure to see Jessie in their
society any longer."
"I agree with you, brother, and will send them home to-morrow," replied
Mrs. Carlton.
Charlie and Emily were dumb with confusion and shame. I think a little
sorrow gushed up in Emily's heart, when through her fingers she saw Jessie
look with appealing and tearful eyes into Uncle Morris's face, and heard
her say in pleading tones:
"O Uncle! O Mamma! please let them stay another week; please do, for my
sake! Please let them stay! They will be good after this, I know they
will."
This plea won both Mrs. Carlton's and the old man's consent, and Jessie
kissing her cousins, said:
"There, you can stay. Aren't you glad?"