A MOTHER’S DELIGHTS.
“SEWING! how I hate sewing! I wonder what use there is in my learning to
sew,” exclaimed Lily, in rather a fretful tone, as she took me out of
the box.
“I wonder what’s the use of learning to spell!” yawned little Eddy over
a dog’s-eared book, as he sat on a stool close by his mother.
Mrs. Ellerslie was busy at her desk, examining her monthly accounts,
with a grave and anxious expression. She was interrupted, in the midst
of summing up a long bill, by her little girl bringing her work to her.
“Mamma—”
“Yes, my dear,” said Mrs. Ellerslie, without raising her eyes, and
continued murmuring half aloud, “Thirteen pounds and a half at
seven-pence three-farthings—I thought there must be an error somewhere.”
“Mamma, please will you lay down the hem for me?”
“Really, my love, I am very busy at present. I think that, after all the
trouble which I have taken to teach you, you might manage to do that for
yourself;” and again she went on with her accounts; while Lily, looking
rather discontented, slowly returned to her seat.
“Mamma,” said Eddy, rising, and laying his book on her knee, “I know my
lesson.”
“Wait a minute, my boy; I will hear you almost directly.”
So Eddy waited cheerfully enough, and, to amuse himself in the meantime,
began trying to mend his mother’s pen, to the no small damage of the
pen, and the imminent risk of his own fingers.
“Oh, Eddy, put that knife down!” exclaimed the harassed lady, when she
had raised her head for a moment to see the nature of his occupation.
“Come, you had better say your lesson at once,” she continued,
hopelessly laying down the bill, and taking up the spelling book. She
was too gentle, too loving, to be irritable or peevish; but petty cares
and petty troubles were wearing out her strength, and damping the
spirits which had once been so light. I saw that though Mrs. Ellerslie
fondly loved her children, she could not help feeling them a weariness
to her; and though they had much affection for their mother, they had
little consideration for her comfort.
“Now, Eddy,” said Mrs. Ellerslie, as the little gentleman stood with his
arms pressed down to his sides before her, “how do you spell the word
_pan_?”
“B-o-y,” replied Eddy, with emphasis.
“Oh, fie! that’s not knowing your lesson. You had better look it over
again,” she continued, as a servant brought in a note with the words,
“The messenger is waiting for an answer.”
In the meantime, I was making my first essay in sewing; and though, I
assure you, it was from no fault of mine, a lamentably bungling essay it
was. The hem laid down by my little mistress was in some parts twice as
broad as in others, while in one place the edge was scarcely turned in
at all. I was quite hurt at the crooked stitches which Lily forced me to
make, and I wondered to myself whether she worked thus from stupidity or
a wilful temper.
While the lady read and answered the note in haste, Eddy sat demurely on
his stool, leaning his elbows on his knees, and his chin on the palm of
his hands, as if buried in profound study. As soon as the servant had
left the room, he came again to his mother with,—
“Mamma, I know my lesson now.”
“What do p-i-n make?” said the lady.
“_Pin_,” replied Eddy; for which correct answer he received a smile and
a quiet “That’s right.”
“And what do p-i-n-e make?” continued his mother.
“_Needle!_” shouted out the child with decision. Mrs. Ellerslie laid the
book down on her knee. “I’m afraid that I must turn you again, Eddy.”
Eddy pouted as he took back his lesson, and before Mrs. Ellerslie
resumed her accounts, she said to Lily, “Let me see how you are getting
on with your work.”
Lily brought it reluctantly to her mother.
“Oh fie! this will never do! Are you not ashamed of such hemming?”
“I couldn’t lay down the hem right,” said Lily very dolefully.
“Could not, or would not, Lily? I am sure that you can work more neatly
than that. Just take it back and unpick it nicely.”
Lily coloured, and as she bent over me again, I saw a big tear fall
close beside me.
“Three and eight, nine and four,” murmured Mrs. Ellerslie over her
accounts. “Lily, hold up your head; you must not stoop so my child.
Eddy, do not pull off your buttons.” She leaned her head upon her hand.
I believe that it was aching, and so Lily would have suspected had she
looked at that pale face; but the young lady was gloomily proceeding
with her work, and perhaps grumbling in her heart at the little task
which she might so easily have performed.
It was clear to me that the poor mother was to have no peace, for again
she was interrupted to pay the washerwoman, and had scarcely finished
that small piece of business, rendered troublesome by not having enough
of change, when there was a sound of crying from the room above.
“Is not that baby’s voice?” exclaimed Mrs. Ellerslie, half rising from
her seat. She glanced at Lily, probably intending to send her on a
message—at least it appeared so from the movement of her head; but Lily
had no idea of reading the wishes of her mother, and kept sullenly
pricking me in and out, sitting as if fastened to her seat. Mrs.
Ellerslie, therefore, took the shortest way of settling the matter, and
herself ran upstairs to the baby.
Master Eddy took advantage of her absence to clamber up her vacant
chair, and make himself acquainted with the contents of her desk. A very
little care on the part of Lily might have prevented him from doing any
mischief; but, whether from ill-temper or inattention, she took no
notice whatever of his pranks. When Mrs. Ellerslie re-entered the room,
she found her ink-bottle overturned on the table, and a black stream
flowing down on the carpet, which her little boy was attempting to stop
with a handful of bills.
“Oh, Eddy, Eddy, what have you done!” cried the poor lady. “Lily, run
quickly and call down the housemaid. I cannot leave the room for a
minute,” she added, provoked beyond even her powers of endurance, “but
some mischief is sure to occur.”
“Mamma, I didn’t know there was ink in the bottle—I only turned it up to
see if there was any; but I’m trying to wipe it all up.”
“Oh dear! the bills!—and your hands and pinafore; just see what a state
they are in! You must run up to Sarah directly!”
“I’ll never do so any more!” cried Eddy, looking at his blackened
fingers, and beginning to whimper.
When the housemaid had performed her office, and the children had been
sent up to prepare for their walk—happily the weather was not rainy—the
weary, delicate mother again took her place before the table, and
pushing aside the blackened heaps of bills, which she had now hardly a
hope of being able to make out, she leaned back upon her chair and
sighed.
“The children are too much for me!” she murmured to herself; “I really
have not the strength to do them justice. I must ask Edward to let me
have a governess. But no; how could I think of such a thing, after the
hint which he gave me about expense, after his parting with his own
horse and gig, and giving up the trip into Wales? He spoke, too, of the
expense of keeping George at school! I am sure that there is something
weighing upon his mind; shall I add to it the burden of my petty cares?
No, no; whatever my dear husband finds to annoy him in the busy,
bustling world, he must find his own home a quiet haven of rest. I must
manage as well as I can, and always have a cheerful smile for him! One
comfort is, that George’s holidays are so near;—my own boy, what a
welcome he shall have!” and her lips parted with a pleasant smile, and
the lines upon her pale brow quite disappeared, as if smoothed down by
an invisible hand.
“This is odd enough!” thought I, as I lay half out of the work-box,
sticking in my unfortunate hem; “three children are more than this poor
lady can manage. I should have thought that a fourth would have driven
her wild!”
------------------------------------------------------------------------