MY FIRST ADVENTURE.
OUR education being now finished, two hundred and fifty of us were
packed up together, and remained in darkness and seclusion for some
time. We were then removed, separated, and in smaller numbers placed in
neat little dark-coloured papers, and kept in a box in a shop. Of all
the tiresome parts of my life, this was the most tiresome by far. I
longed for the moment when I should be taken from the prison, and see a
little of the world. I was quite discontented with my state.
“Why was I made, if not to be used?” thought I. “Why have I undergone
all this heating, hitting, and polishing? why am I so sharp, so neat, so
bright, if not to make some figure in the world?” I was only a young
needle, you see, and impatience is natural to youth: I am not the only
one who has found it hard to stay contentedly in the position in which
he has been placed.
At length I felt myself moved (you know that I could see nothing out of
my paper). I believe that I had been bought and sold; and though not at
once released from my confinement, I felt reasonable hopes that I soon
should be so. Nor were my expectations disappointed.
“Oh, mamma! dear mamma! what a sweet little work-box—and all fitted up
so nicely!” exclaimed a childish voice near me. I longed to have a peep
at the speaker.
“I hope that it may assist my Lily to be a tidy, useful little girl,
such as her mother would wish to see her.”
“What a pretty silver thimble! and it fits me exactly; just see! You’ve
left a place for my scissors, as I have a nice pair already. What neat,
tiny reels!—and what’s this? a yard measure—ah! and here is wax to make
my thread strong! Thank you, dear mamma, again and again!”
I confess that I was rather in a state of irritation. Nobody seemed to
be thinking in the least about me; after all my finished education, it
was not thought worth while even to give me a look. At length my paper
was moved, very roughly torn open, light flashed upon its contents, and
I and my companions were scattered in every direction, I alighting on
the Holland pinafore of a fair, chubby-faced boy, who had been the
author of the mischief.
“Oh, Eddy! you tiresome child! if you would only leave my box alone—just
see what you’ve done with my needles!”
I seized the opportunity of looking around me, in no hurry for my
resting-place to be discovered. I found myself in a very comfortable
room, full of so many things to excite my curiosity, that I felt as
though I could have gazed for ever! But perhaps what interested me most
was my first sight of the human beings who occupied the apartment. They
were so unlike the workmen to whom I had been accustomed, that I
examined them just as a philosopher might examine some newly-discovered
curiosity.
In the first place, there was a gentle, blue-eyed lady, who sat near the
table on which the work-box was placed; while on her knee rested a very
plump little child, calmly engaged in sucking her thumb. A girl of about
ten years of age (I knew nothing of ages then, and had not a notion of
anything growing, but I have since learned much from observation) was on
her knees, searching for her needles. She was evidently to be my future
mistress, and I anxiously glanced into her face to read what sort of a
child she might be. I scarcely knew whether her countenance pleased me
or not. She had light eyes, like her mamma; rather a turned-up little
nose, which gave her a somewhat saucy expression; and I am sorry to say
that, just at that moment, I saw on her brow sundry creases, which did
not give me an idea of good temper. I know that it is a foolish feeling
of mine, but whenever I see those ugly creases rising on the brow of a
little boy or girl, I always feel inclined to bestow on them a little
prick, just by way of good counsel, you understand! I have seen lines,
and very deep lines, made on the forehead by care; I could just faintly
trace some on that of Mrs. Ellerslie; they became only too distinct in
the course of time, but they never for a moment altered the gentle
expression of her face.
I think now that I hear her soft voice as she said,—
“Oh, Lily, do not be so much vexed with your brother. You know that he
is only a little boy. Come, my Eddy, let us help to look for the
needles; you must not touch the papers again!”
I cannot say much for Eddy’s skill or industry in the search; he was
much more intent on making baby laugh by snapping his fingers and
grinning at her, turning his head knowingly first on one side, then on
the other, till he succeeded in drawing from her a merry crow, and a
smile showed her little toothless gums.
Such success elated Eddy, and, determined to press a good kiss on that
sweet little mouth, he came close—too close to her, alas! for he caused
me to inflict, I am sorry to confess it, a very tiny scratch on the
baby’s plump white arm.
You should have heard what a scream she set up! I really felt quite
embarrassed: was this to be the commencement of my career, was I to
begin my services by mischief? You must consider also, gentle reader,
that my astonishment was very great at the effect produced by my head
simply rubbing against a child’s arm! I myself, though not a thousandth
part of the size of the baby, had borne hammering, bruising, and
battering, not only in silence, but with little inconvenience; and here
the smallest touch seemed to excite terror and pain such as had never
even entered into my fancy. Ah! I soon found how very different the
human species is from ours; how easily their tender flesh is wounded,
and—what I thought still more strange—how easily their feelings are
pained! It has seemed to me, from what I have observed in life, and from
what I have heard from companions of my own, possessing greater
experience, that there are some human beings whose great business seems
to be, pricking and paining the hearts of those around them; as if life
were not full enough of sorrows without our wilfully bringing them upon
our neighbours.
Eddy seemed much more penitent for having hurt baby than for having
overthrown Lily’s paper of needles, though the latter action had been
the cause of the former. He joined his mother and sister in trying to
soothe little Rosey, and assured her so often that he was “very, very
sorry,” and called her by so many sweet names, “little pet, darling, and
duck,” and kissed the scratched arm so often, that she soon appeared
quite pacified. I was not so well pleased at the titles which he gave
me, throwing all the blame on “the naughty, ugly needle,” that had been
the innocent cause of her pain. I was rather in ill humour when Lily
hastily replaced me in the work-box, not dreaming of putting me back in
my paper, but sticking me unceremoniously into the red silk which lined
the top of the box. And there I was to remain, in company with other
articles of metal, with which I soon entered into acquaintance; for all
the metals are naturally related to each other, and I was able to make
myself understood by everything bearing the nature of a mineral.
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