[Illustration:
_page 138._
_The Old Woodcutter_
_Pub^d. May 1, 1831, by J. Harris, S^t. Pauls Church Yard._]
CHIT-CHAT,
OR
SHORT TALES IN SHORT WORDS.
WITH SIXTEEN ENGRAVINGS.
Our life is like a summer's day,
It seems so quickly past;
Youth is the morning bright and gay,
And if 'tis spent in wisdom's way,
We meet old age without dismay,
And death is sweet at last.
HYMNS FOR INFANT MINDS.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "ALWAYS HAPPY," &c.
SECOND EDITION, ENLARGED.
LONDON:
JOHN HARRIS, ST. PAUL'S CHURCH YARD.
1831.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY,
Dorset Street, Fleet Street.
IN COURSE OF PUBLICATION.
THE LITTLE LIBRARY,
COMPRISING,
IN A SERIES OF SMALL VOLUMES,
A Familiar Introduction
TO VARIOUS BRANCHES
OF
USEFUL KNOWLEDGE.
* * * * *
I.
THE MINE.
By the late Rev. Isaac Taylor, of Ongar, Essex.
THIRD EDITION.
Illustrated with Sixteen Engravings, and a Mineralogical Table.
Price 3s. 6d. neatly bound in cloth, square 16mo.
EXTRACT FROM CONTENTS: Ancient Coal Mine.--Gold
Mines.--Anglesea Mines.--Black Damp.--Black Lead--Blast
Furnace.--Blasting Mines.--Boring for Coal.--Brazil
Diamonds.--Bristol Stones.--Cannel Coal.--Captain of a Mine.--Carron
Founderies.--Choke Damp.--Cinnabar.--Coining Tin.--Copper; its
various Mines--Sir H. Davy's Safety Lamp.--Descending into Mines
of Copper, Coal, Iron, Salt, and Silver.--Diamonds.--Finding
Mines.--Draining Mines.--Dress for a Mine.--Explosion of
Coal.--Galena.--Gas.--Fullers' Earth.--Gold, in various parts of the
World.--Lead.--Mercury.--History of Mines.--Mineral Cabinet.--Numbers
of Mines in Cornwall.--Pactolus.--Phœnicians trading for
Tin.--Pig Iron.--Plumbago.--Quantities of Coal sent to London.--Rail
Roads.--Retorts.--Roasting Ore.--Smelting Furnace.--Stamping
Mills.--Steam Engine.--Stream of Sparks, &c.
VOLUMES ALREADY PUBLISHED.
II.
THE SHIP.
By the late Rev. Isaac Taylor.
Illustrated with Sixteen Engravings. Price 3s. 6d. neatly bound
in cloth, square 16mo.
EXTRACT FROM CONTENTS: Noah's Ark.--Floats on the
Rhine.--Egyptian Pottery Float.--Indian Paddle Canoes.--Boats, Barges,
and Lighters.--Sailing Canoes.--Chinese Junks.--The Nautilus.--Ancient
Vessels.--Roman Galleys.--British Coracles.--Cæsar's Fleet.--A Fire
Ship.--A Cutter.--A Gun-boat.--A Bomb-ketch.--A Frigate.--A Man-of-War,
with its Long-boat, Barge, Pinnace, Cutter, and Yawl.--A Turkish
Galley.--A Venetian Galleas.--A French Galley.--A Xebec, Polacre,
and Tartan.--A Snow, Bilander, Schooner, and Dogger.--A Sloop, Hoy,
and Smack.--An East-Indiaman.--A Portuguese Carrack.--A Spanish
Galleon.--A Canal Boat.--A Wherry, and Pleasure Boat.--Lord Mayor's
State Barge.--Venetian Gondola.--The Doge's Bucentaur.--A Man-of-War,
with descriptive references.--A Section of a Man-of-War.--The Dock
Yard.--The Ship Launch, &c.
III.
THE FOREST.
A Description of TREES generally; with 16 Engravings, shewing
the Form and Character of the principal Trees; and 10 Wood Engravings,
illustrative of minor peculiarities. Price 3s. 6d. neatly
bound in coloured cloth, square 16mo.
EXTRACT FROM CONTENTS: A Stroll in Autumn.--The New
Forest.--The Oak.--Age of Trees.--Oak Apples.--Galls.--Bark, or
Tan.--Varieties of Timber Trees.--Transplanting Forests.--Usefulness
of Deal Timber.--Turpentine.--Tar.--Pitch.--Resin.--Warlike use of
the Yew.--Ancient Bows and Arrows.--Woodland Scenery.--Chestnut of
Mount Ætna.--Indian Charcoal Burners.--Foreign Timber Trees.--First
Application of Mahogany.--Products of the Palm Tree.--Work in
the Woods.--Falling Timber.--Wood Stocking.--Splitting Old
Roots.--Measuring Timber.--Making up Faggots.--Carrying Timber.--Timber
Drag, and Lever.--Remarkable Applications of Timber.--Westminster
Hall.--Riding House at Moscow.--Remarkably large Ships.--Schaffhausen
Bridge.--Mr. Rudyard's Lighthouse.--Parts of a Tree.--Inversion of
Trees.--Submerged Forests.--Forests on Fire.
IV.
THE PUBLIC BUILDINGS OF WESTMINSTER
DESCRIBED.
With Twelve Engravings. Price 3s 6d. neatly bound in cloth,
square 16mo.
EXTRACT FROM CONTENTS: Westminster Abbey.--Westminster
Hall.--House of Commons.--House of Lords.--Westminster
Bridge.--Whitehall.--Horse Guards.--Treasury.--Admiralty.--St.
James's Palace.--Hyde Park Corner.--Kensington Palace.--Waterloo
Bridge.--Somerset House.--British Museum.--Covent Garden
Theatre.--Drury Lane Theatre.--Haymarket Theatre.--Colosseum, &c. &c.
V.
THE PUBLIC BUILDINGS of the CITY of LONDON
DESCRIBED.
With Twelve Engravings. Price 4s. 6d. neatly bound in cloth,
square 16mo.
CONTENTS: Introduction.--The City.--St. Paul's Cathedral;
General Description; Monuments; Objects of interest.--Paul's
Cross.--Post Office.--Fleet Market.--New Farringdon Market.--Old
Bailey Sessions' House.--Newgate Prison.--Christ's Hospital.--St.
Bartholomew's Hospital.--Smithfield.--Charter House.--The
Mansion House.--Guildhall.--The Royal Exchange.--The Bank.--East
India House.--The Monument.--The Tower.--East India Docks.--St.
Catharine's.--The New Custom House.--Billingsgate.--Excise
Office.--London Bridge, &c.--The Thames Tunnel, &c. &c.
VI.
THE GARDEN;
OR,
FAMILIAR INSTRUCTION FOR THE LAYING OUT AND
MANAGEMENT OF A FLOWER GARDEN.
With blocks, and 12 engravings of flowers, one for each month.
Price 3s. 6d. half bound in cloth and leather, plain, or with the
flowers coloured 4s. 6d.
EXTRACT FROM CONTENTS: January.--Directions for laying
out.--Climbers.--Arbour, designs for.--Centre Beds.--Distinction
between shrubs.--Annuals.--Roots.--Hints for planting Herbaceous
plants, as to height, colour, &c.--Tools.--Roses, different
sorts.--Flowering Shrubs.--Pruning.--Marking Sticks.--Flowers in
Bloom.--Advice as to particular flowers.--Transplanting.--American
Shrubs.--Evergreens, &c. &c.--Handweeding, Raking, &c.--Rock work.--How
to grow Carnations.--Flower Basket.--Bulbs to dry.--Reasons why they
should be taken up.--Directions for striking Pink Pipings.--Cuttings
of China, Moss, and other Roses.--Ornamental Vases and Tables of
Flowers.--Fruits of Industry.--Gardening considered as a rational
amusement.--Gather seeds and dry them.--Method of budding rose
stocks.--An old Tree made Ornamental.--Effects of cold, without
snow, on Alpine Plants.--Gardening leads to a love of order and
neatness.--Distinguished men who have been fond of Gardening, &c. &c.
NEARLY READY.
VII.
BIBLE ILLUSTRATIONS;
OR,
A Description of those Manners and Customs which are peculiar to
the East, and which are especially explanatory of the
Holy Scriptures.
By the Rev. B.H. Draper,
Author of "Scripture Stories," "Sketches from Creation," &c.
With Sixteen Engravings. Price 4s. 6d. half bound, cloth sides and
leather backs.
AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
TO
THE DEAR LITTLE PARTY
AT
THE RECTORY.
_London, 1825._
CHIT-CHAT.
PART I.
THE CHAISE BRINGS A FRIEND.
Kate dwelt with her Aunt in a lone cot, in one of the most sweet dells
of Wales.--Cliffs rose in rude grace round their home, and the sea,
with its smooth beach, was to be seen in front,--a wild wood stood on
one side, and a heath spread out not far off; on the edge of which a
church, with its grey spire, and a few rude huts were seen; a cot here
and there was to be found in the wood, by the side of a rough path.
The Aunt of Kate was not rich, but she had a kind heart; and when she
heard of the death of a dear friend, she sent for the child of that
friend, and gave her a home in her lone cot. How glad was Kate, when
she saw the chaise that brought poor Blanche. It drove to the door in
a cloud of dust, and the noise of its wheels brought out Kate and her
Aunt, and their maid, to the gate.
The Aunt held the poor child to her heart, and gave her a fond kiss.
Kate caught her in her arms, and, with smiles, told her how glad she
was to see her. Blanche shed tears of joy and love, and the three
friends were soon gay and dear each to each.
The next day, Kate led Blanche through the lane and fields, down to the
beach. The sea was bright with the sun, and the smooth sand shone as
glass. They found shells, and weeds, and bits of red, blue, and green
stones, that in their eyes were rich gems. The gull, a sea-bird, with
its large white wings, was seen to fly as if on the waves, and the tide
as it rose on the beach, brought to the feet of the girls, amid the
light foam, some fine plants just torn from the rocks hid in the waters.
These plants were not like the plants that grow on the earth, for they
were made to thrive in the salt sea, and were strong and firm, though
the sprays of some were as fine as threads, and the leaves of some as
tough as skin. The friends took home a large hoard of all they could
find.
THE GIRLS AT HOME.
The Aunt was at her desk when they went home, and she told them how
to dry the weeds, and clean the shells; she told them how to fix the
weeds to boards with gum, and thus to make a kind of group of trees and
shrubs. She taught them how to bore holes in the shells, and then form
them to neat shapes to deck the room, and to join them in the form of a
box to hold pins, and such small things. Then she bade them write down
the names of those she knew, and thus, when in the house, they were gay
with what they had found in their walks. So when they went out, they
took care to use their eyes: for each bud and blade of grass might hide
something that would pay their search; a small worm, or a snail in its
snug shell, or a grub in its folds: with the help of a glass, these
small things would look so large that each part could be seen--The legs
and all their joints and hairs, the small bright eyes, the trunk drawn
up in a coil, or spread out at full length; what to the eye was dust on
a moth's wing, through the glass, was found to be fine plumes, and the
clear gauze of the fly's wing was quite a treat to look on; so thin, so
light, so rich.
In a bud, they found a small white worm; an egg had been laid there by
some kind of fly, and from this egg, the worm came out. It had fed on
the heart of the bud, for the fly knew what food its young would like,
and laid the egg where this food could be found. Strange that so small
a thing should know so well what was best to be done! The girls would
think as well as talk of what they saw; hence their minds, in time,
were full of thoughts, which could serve to please them when they were
at home, and sat at work and did not talk. To think is one of our best
joys, so we must hoard up, as fast as we can, good and wise and gay
thoughts.
TEARS OF JOY.
At noon as they sat at their plain meal, for in Wales they do not keep
such late hours as we do in town, the three would talk of all they had
seen, or heard, or felt. They did not care much what they ate--they
thought more of their hearts and minds. Kate one day sat down with red
eyes, and grave looks; her Aunt saw her state, and was in grief for
her.
"Dear Aunt, do not be sad for me," said Kate, "my tears were not tears
of grief: as I stood at our gate, I saw a poor lamb in pain; it was in
the ditch, and could not get out, so I ran to help it, and took it out
and saw it run in the field, so gay! Old dame Madge saw all this, it
was her lamb, and she was full of thanks, 'and Miss,' says she, 'what
shall I do to please you?' Now you know, Aunt, dame Madge is quite
rich, and old Grace quite poor, so I said, 'Madge, if you would please
me, pray give that fine jug of new milk, which you have on your head,
to poor old Grace.' Well, do you know, she was all smiles at my words,
and she said, 'Come then, dear, go with me to Grace's hut, and I will
do as you ask;' so with a jump, and a hop, and a spring, I ran to the
hut, and I found the poor old soul in bed, not sick but sad, and she
had no food, nor fire; so judge how glad she was of the nice warm new
milk! And I was as glad as she was when I saw her drink it; and I came
out and left Madge with her; for I thought a few kind words and some
chat would do her as much good as the milk."
"And as I came home, I found my eyes wet, and tears on my cheeks; but I
am sure, I do not know why they came there, for I was all joy, and felt
my heart so gay and so warm! I am sure I did not cry, for I was glad
then, and though grave as you say, I am glad now."
THE POOR GAY.
"There are tears of joy as well as of grief," said the kind Aunt, "such
as I now shed; can you tell why?"--"I can tell," said Blanche, "I know
why you weep, you are so glad to find Kate's heart so good."--"Yes, I
love her that she did not think of self; and I love you, my Blanche,
for your warm praise of her."
"So now let us run to the heath, to see the young men and maids dance,"
said Kate, and they set off for the heath. The old man was there, with
a stone for his seat, and there were the lads, each with his lass, so
blythe and gay. The turf was smooth for their feet, and the sweet herbs
sent forth a mild scent. The air was calm and still, and the sun, as
it set on the sea, gave a rich light to the scene. "I love to see the
poor made glad!" said the Aunt, "they toil so much, it is right they
should have a few hours of mirth."--"If I were rich," said Kate, "I
would think as much of the sports of my poor as of their toils; the
song, and the dance on the fresh sod, in the cool air, can do no harm:
nor is that all--the breast that glows with pure joy, when a sky like
this, with stars as gems, and a moon as a lamp, form the roof and the
lights; when the smell of plants and shrubs is the scent, and the sight
of woods and heaths, and all the works of God are the charms and graces
of the spot; the breast that glows in such scenes must glow with good
thoughts."
The Aunt spoke no more, but her looks said all she felt. The girls were
as gay as those they saw dance, and they gave a few pence to the old
man, and they sent milk and bread, and fruit to the young men and maids.
"Oh! we will help the poor to be gay when we can; why should they not
be so, as well as the rich?" These were the words of Kate, as she heard
the sounds of the songs and the dance, of the blythe group they had
just left. Ruth brought back the warm thanks of the poor she had been
sent to cheer; joy is good for the heart, it is said so in the first
and best of books: grief may help to cure faults, but mirth tends to
nurse good thoughts, and to cheer good hearts.
LOVE, THE SOURCE OF JOY.
The two girls were good friends, and it was rare for them to frown or
scold: one day, to be sure, they had a few harsh words, and Kate gave
Blanche a blow on the face. The blow hurt Kate's heart more than it did
the cheek of Blanche, for she was sad all the rest of the day, and so
was her poor friend; both had been to blame, for Blanche had been in a
great rage, and had said some harsh things to vex and fret: so good bye
to all peace and joy! They took a walk, but in vain the sun shone and
the birds sang; they saw not the beam, they heard not the strain. They
ate some fine fruit, but its rich sweet taste was lost on them, dry
bread would have done as well.
The Aunt saw something was wrong, and soon found out the cause of all
their grave sad looks; she told them to come to her, and then she took
a hand of each, and with mild words strove to bring them back to love.
"Blanche, you were wrong the first; rude words are as bad as harsh
blows, for our words are as blows on the hearts of our friends; and
what can be worse than to wound a friend's heart? Kate, you too have
been much to blame; you ought to rule your mind, and curb it, when it
is prone to fly out in rough acts: you know you can rule your thoughts
as well as your limbs; you would not strike me, were I to fret you more
than Blanche did. Come, ask your friend to kiss you; she must cease to
think of your blow, and you must cease to think of her words."
Blanche flew to Kate's arms, and Kate caught her to her heart with
joy: both gave more than one kiss to their best friend. At once what a
change took place in all things to them: how bright the sun! how sweet
the birds! how good their lunch of brown bread!
"Dear girls," said the Aunt, "such is the charm of love! It is the
source of our best joys, the balm of our worst woes; she who is blest
with one true friend, has a sure shield to guard her from harm, and a
sure spring of joy!"
HOW TRUTH IS LOST.
"Oh Aunt," said Kate one day, "do tell Blanche that droll tale, with
which you made me laugh so much, when she was not here." "Yes, pray
do," said Blanche, and she took a chair by her friend, whilst Kate
stood by full of smiles and winks. The Aunt was on a seat by the glass
door, and soon did as she was bid in these words:--
THE THREE CROWS.
There was once on a time a poor man, who was sick, and the poor folks
who dwelt near him knew he was ill, and would talk much of his sad
state. One night, strange news were heard of him; a man said, he had
been sick and had thrown up _three_ crows, for so his wife told him.
When they spoke to the wife, "yes," said she, "three _black_ crows;
it is all true, quite true."--"Did you see the crows, wife?"--"No, my
dear, but Joan at the mill told me _she_ did."--Some one went to the
mill to beg Joan to shew the crows. "I have not seen them," said she,
"nor did I say three crows; I said two, and I am sure that is right,
for Sue, at the shop, has them, so do not laugh all of you, but go ask
Sue."
They went to Sue, she had no crows to shew, and was cross, and said,
"Who dares to tell me of two crows? I did but say one; one I did name,
and that was all, on my word."--"Then who spoke of two?"--"Not I, good
folks, trust me, I am too fond of the truth--the mere truth."--"But
there was one crow?"--"Yes, yes, that is sure, the man's wife's old
aunt told me so." They ran to the man's wife's old aunt; she swore her
niece had told her of one black crow; that the poor man had thrown up:
"Go to the cot," said she, "and see it." The folks flew to the cot and
told their tale; the sick man could not but smile when he heard them,
and he was fain to laugh, when his wife set all to rights and said,
"Good folks, there are no crows at all in the case; I did but say that
my poor man had been sick all night, and had thrown up some stuff, as
_black as a crow_."
A KISS AND GOOD NIGHT.
By the time the tale was done, and the laugh was done, it was the hour
to go to bed, and the maid came with a light for the young girls. They
each gave a kiss and a kind good night to their dear friend, and ran
off to their own snug room. The cot had but three small rooms on the
ground floor, and three small rooms on the first floor, and that was
the whole of the house.
There was a nice piece of ground round it: part was a lawn to play and
run on, and part was a court for fowls and ducks, with a small pond in
it, and nests for the hens to lay their eggs in; and part was full of
fruits and flowers, and beans, and peas, and greens of all sorts, and
each girl had a plot of her own, for pinks and such plants, and each
had a rose-bush full of buds. Then there were pears, and plums, and
nuts, and a vine full of grapes that hung on the walls, and the roof of
the low cot; and a clear stream, with its soft turf bank, ran by the
side of the lawn, and a hedge with wreaths of hops bound the end of
the lawn. The boughs of trees hung on a seat made of roots, which in
the hot months was a cool nook to work and read in, and drink tea in,
and, more than that, to _think_ in. For who could be there, and see the
sun rise or sink with mild beams, but felt their thoughts rise to the
great God who made the sun? Who could feel the soft breeze waft health
and strength, and not bless Him who gave the pure gale? Who could taste
the juice of fruits, and smell the scent of buds, and not send up their
hearts to Him who made fruits and buds? Then would the mind pause and
think, "All things are made for the good of all: these for me, and I
for them; they serve me, and I must serve them; I must be of use, as
well as they; so let me make the best of life, and use my mind and my
limbs, whilst I am young and strong, and can do good. By and by I shall
be old, and weak, and not fit to work: then it will be too late to
mourn the loss of time. This, this is the hour when I must toil with
head, and hands, and heart; and think, and work, and feel."