Poor Jemima, who had never disagreed with her brothers, nor

Produced by Delphine Lettau, Judith Wirawan and the Online

Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

JEMIMA PLACID;

OR, THE

ADVANTAGE

OF

GOOD-NATURE.

EXEMPLIFIED IN

_A VARIETY OF FAMILIAR INCIDENTS_.

A NEW EDITION.

_LONDON_:

Printed by T. C. HANSARD, Peterborough-court, Fleet-street, for

BALDWIN, CRADOCK, AND JOY,

47, Paternoster-row; and

N. HAILES, Piccadilly.

1819.

PREFACE.

It has been often said, that infancy is the happiest state of human

life, as being exempted from those serious cares, and that anxiety which

must ever, in some degree, be an attendant on a more advanced age; but

the Author of the following little performance is of a different

opinion; and has ever considered the troubles of children as a severe

exercise to their patience; when it is recollected that the vexations

which they meet with are suited to the weakness of their understanding,

and though trifling perhaps in themselves, acquire importance from their

connexion with the puerile inclinations and bounded views of an infant

mind, where present gratification is the whole they can comprehend, and

therefore suffer in proportion when their wishes are obstructed.

The main design of this publication is, to prove, from example, that the

pain of disappointment will be much increased by ill-temper; and that to

yield to the force of necessity will be found wiser than vainly to

oppose it. The contrast between the principal character, with the

peevishness of her cousin's temper, is intended as an incitement to that

placid disposition which will form the happiness of social life in every

stage; and which, therefore, should not be thought beneath any one's

attention, or undeserving of their cultivation.

JEMIMA PLACID;

OR, THE

ADVANTAGE

OF

GOOD-NATURE.

As I had nothing particular to do, I took a walk one morning as far as

St. James's Park, where meeting with a lady of my acquaintance, she

invited me to go home with her to breakfast; which invitation I

accordingly complied with. Her two daughters had waited for her a

considerable time, and expressed themselves to have been much disturbed

at her stay. They afterwards fretted at the heat of the weather; and the

youngest happening accidentally to tear her apron, she bewailed it the

succeeding part of the day with so much appearance of vexation, that I

could not help showing some degree of astonishment at her conduct; and

having occasion afterwards to mention Miss Placid; I added, that she was

the most agreeable girl I had ever known.

Miss Eliza, to whom I was speaking, said, That she had long wished to

hear something farther concerning that young lady, as her mamma very

frequently proposed her as an example, without mentioning the

particulars of her conduct; but as I was so happy as to be favoured

with her intimacy, she should be glad to hear a recital of those

excellencies which acquired such universal approbation.

In compliance with this request, I wrote the following sheets, and

dispatched them to Eliza, and by her desire it is that they are now

submitted to the world; as she obligingly assured me, that her

endeavours to imitate the calm disposition of the heroine of this

history, had contributed so much to her own happiness, and increased the

good opinion of her friends, that she wished to have so amiable an

example made public for the advantage of others. I shall therefore

present these memoirs to the world, just as they were sent to my young

friend; and sincerely wish they may meet with as favourable a reception

from the more general, as they did from a private perusal.

* * * * *

The high opinion, my dear Eliza, which you entertain of Jemima Placid,

would, I assure you, be much increased upon a more intimate knowledge of

her worth. The sweetness of her temper has made her the object of

particular estimation among all her acquaintance; and I had the

happiness to be admitted of that number at a very early period of her

life. Mr. Placid is a clergyman of distinguished merit, and has been for

many years the vicar of Smiledale. The situation of the parsonage is

truly beautiful, but the income of the living is not very considerable;

therefore, as the old gentleman has two sons with the young Jemima to

provide for, it is necessary to be rather frugal in his expenses. Mrs.

Placid was remarkably handsome in her youth, but the beauty of her

person has been much impaired by a continued state of ill health, which

she supports with such a degree of cheerful fortitude, as does honour

to human nature. As she has had the advantage of a liberal education,

and has been always accustomed to genteel company, her conversation is

uncommonly agreeable; and her daughter has derived from her

instructions, those engaging qualities, which are the most valuable

endowments a parent can bestow. The eldest son, whose name is Charles,

is about three years, and William, the youngest, near a year and a half

older than his sister. Their dispositions are not in all respects so

gentle as hers; yet, on the whole, they form the most agreeable family

I have ever known.

When Jemima was about six years old, her mamma's health rendered it

necessary that she should take a journey to Bristol; and it being out of

her power to have Jemima with her, she left her with an aunt, whose name

was Piner, and who had two daughters a few years older than their

cousin. Miss Placid, who had never before been separated from her mamma,

was severely hurt at the thought of leaving home; but as she was told it

was absolutely necessary, she restrained her tears, from fear of

increasing the uneasiness which her mamma experienced.

[Illustration]

At last the day arrived, when her uncle (whom I before forgot to

mention) and his wife came to dinner at Smiledale, with an intention of

conducting Jemima back with them. She was in her papa's study at the

time they alighted, and could not help weeping at the idea of quitting

her friends; and throwing her arms around her brother William's neck,

silently sobbed forth that grief she wanted power to restrain. The poor

boy, who loved his sister with great tenderness, was nearly as much

agitated as herself, and could only, with affectionate kisses, every now

and then exclaim, Do not cry so, Jemima! pray do not! We shall soon

meet again, my love! pray do not cry!--When she had relieved her little

heart with this indulgence of her sorrow, she wiped her eyes, and walked

slowly up stairs to have her frock put on.--So your aunt is come, miss?

said Peggy, as she set down the basin on the table to wash her

hands.--Poor Jemima was silent.--I am sorry we are going to lose you, my

dear, added she, as she wiped the towel over her forehead, Peggy's hand

held back her head, and at the same time supported her chin, so that her

face was confined, and exposed to observation. She wanted to hide her

tears, but she could not; so at last, hastily covering herself with the

maid's apron, and putting her two hands round her waist, she renewed the

sorrow which she had so lately suppressed.

[Illustration]

Peggy was very fond of her young lady, as indeed was every servant in

the house; but there was a good woman, who went in the family by the

name of Nurse, for whom Jemima had a still greater attachment. She had

attended Mrs. Placid before her marriage, had nursed all her children

from their births, and Jemima was the darling of her heart. As she

entered the room at this time, she took the weeping girl into her lap,

and wept herself at the reflexion, that it was the first time in her

life she had slept without her!--And so pray, my dear, said she, take

care of yourself, and when you go to bed, mind that they pin your

night-cap close at the top, otherwise you will get cold; and do not

forget to have your linen well aired; for otherwise it is very

dangerous, love; and many a person, by such neglect, has caught a cold

which has terminated in a fever. Sweet child! I do not like to trust it

from me, added she, hugging her still closer, and smothering her face in

a check cotton handkerchief, which she wore on her neck. Jemima promised

an observance of her injunctions, and being now dressed, attended a

summons from her mamma, who was alone in her chamber, the company having

left her to walk in the garden, whither she was unable to accompany

them.--I see, my dear girl, said she, holding out her hand as she sat in

an easy chair by the window; I see that you are sorry to leave me; and

indeed, Jemima, I am much grieved that such a separation is necessary;

but I hope I shall be better when I return; and I am sure you would wish

me to be quite well. I hope, therefore, that you will be a good child

while you stay with your uncle and aunt, and not give more trouble than

you cannot avoid. You know, my love, that although you are going among

strangers, yet you will be properly and kindly taken care of; and though

I do not say it is so agreeable as to be at home with your nearer

friends, yet, as we cannot have every thing we wish for, we must not be

fretful, because that will not give us what we desire, and will

certainly make us more uncomfortable, and be disliked by all those with

whom we are connected. There are a great many little things, Jemima,

which you know I frequently tell you of, and which you must endeavour to

remember when I am not with you. Therefore, do not forget to hold up

your head, and behave gracefully; and when you are at dinner, if you

should be offered any thing improper, that is, what you are not

permitted to have at home, be sure civilly to refuse it, and say, Your

mamma does not choose you should eat any. My only reason, you must be

convinced, for denying you any indulgence of that kind, is, because it

would disagree with you, and make you ill; and you are so good, I dare

say, as never to do those things when your papa and I are absent, which

we should prevent if we were present.--Miss Placid assured her mamma of

her obedience, and her firm resolution to mind all her admonitions; when

she resumed her injunctions, and added--There is one thing, my dear, of

more importance than the rest, which I would have you chiefly attend to:

whatever may be your temptation to the contrary, remember to speak the

truth. Your absence from me will be no excuse for the neglect of your

duty; and if once you forfeit your honour, I can have no farther

dependence upon you; and never venture to rely on the concealment of a

fault; for you may depend upon it, such things are found out when least

expected; but if they should not be, the unhappiness you would feel at

having behaved wrongly, would be a great punishment of itself. Yet I

need not, I dare say, have mentioned this to my Jemima, as she is at all

times so good as to deserve reliance; only as you are going to be left

quite to yourself, I thought it necessary to put you particularly upon

your guard.--Mr. Piner returning at this period, interrupted any farther

discourse, only Mrs. Placid affectionately pressed her hand, and, after

giving her a kiss, Jemima sat down on a little stool by her side.

[Illustration]

When the hour of her departure was nearly arrived, she retired into the

garden to take leave of her brothers, and went round with them to all

the different places she had been accustomed to play in. They visited

together the poultry-yard, and Jemima fed her bantams before she left

them [see the following page], bidding them all adieu, and looking

behind her for the last time as she shut the gate. They then walked

round by some walnut-trees, where a seat had been put up for them to sit

in the shade.--I wish you were not going! said Charles; for I put this

box, and drove in these nails, on purpose for you to hang up your doll's

clothes, and now they will be of no farther use to us.--I wish so too!

replied his sister; but I cannot help it.--Well, do not cry, added

William; but come this way by the brewhouse, and bid my rabbits

good-bye, and take this piece of lettuce in your hand to feed the old

doe, and here is some parsley for the young ones; we shall have some

more before you come back, and I will send you word, if I can, how many

there be.--And, Jemima, said Charles, I wish I were going with you to

London! for I should like to see it, it is such a large place; a great

deal bigger than any villages which we have seen; and, they say, the

houses stand close together for a great way; and there are no fields or

trees, and the houses have no gardens to them; but then there is a great

number of shops, and you might perhaps get a collar for Hector! Do pray

try, Jemima, and buy him one, and have his name put upon it, and that he

belongs to the Rev. Mr. Placid, of Smiledale; for then, in case we

should lose him, folk would know where to return him.--And would it not

be better to have a bell, said William, as the sheep have? I like a

bell very much, it would make such a nice noise about the house! and

then we should always know where he was when we were reading, as my

father will not let us look after him. What else do we want her to buy,

Charles? Cannot you write a list?--That will be the best way, replied

he, taking out his pencil; and, very ungracefully, to be sure, he put

the point of it to his mouth two or three times before it would write;

and then, having but a small scrap of paper, he dispatched his brother,

as the shortest way, to fetch a slate, and he would transcribe it

afterwards with a pen and ink; for he had, in endeavouring to cut a new

point to his pencil, broken it off so frequently, that the lead was all

wasted, and nothing remained except the wood. William soon returned,

with the slate under his arm. Charles took it from him, and then went to

work to prepare a bill of necessary things, which his sister was to

purchase in London. He leaned so hard, and scratched in such a manner,

as, had any grown people been of the party, would have set their teeth

on edge (a sensation, I believe, with which children are unacquainted,

for they never seem to notice it at all).--First then, said he, I am to

mention a collar for Hector, with his name and place of abode; and I

should like very much to have some Indian glue, to mend our play things;

such as papa uses, and which we cannot get here, you know.

[Illustration]

William assented, and Jemima was as attentive as if she had been to

remember all the things he was writing, without the assistance of his

list. They sat some time in silence, to recollect the other necessary

commissions, when she reminded them, that a new pencil would be a useful

article; but Charles said, his father would supply that want, and there

was no need to spend his own money for things he could have without any

expense; but, if any how I could get a gun, with a touch-hole, I should

be quite happy.--No, you would not, returned William; for then, Charles,

you would want gunpowder, which you never could have; and if you had,

might never use it.--To be sure that is true! I have long wished for it;

but, as you say, I will be contented without it; so do not concern

yourself about that, and I need not set it down.--I shall not trouble

you with the rest of the consultation on this important subject, but

transcribe the list itself, which, with the account of the preceding

conversation, I received from a young lady, who frequently spent some

months with Mrs. Placid; and to whose kindness I am indebted for many of

the various incidents which compose this history.

_A List of the Things_ Jemima _is to bring from London._

A collar for Hector.--Indian glue.--Some little pictures to make a

show.--A pair of skates; as we shall like skating better than

sliding.--A large coach-whip for Charles, because John will not lend us

his;--and some little books which we can understand, and which mamma

told Mrs. West may be bought somewhere in London; but Jemima must

inquire about it.

[Illustration]

Such were the orders which Miss Placid received from her brothers on her

first journey to the metropolis. They then attended her to bid adieu to

her canary-bird, which she very tenderly committed to their care, and

desired they would feed it every day, and give it water in her absence;

and mind to turn the glass the right way, otherwise the poor thing might

be starved. While she was taking her leave of little Dick, who hung in

the hall by the window, her cat came purring to her, and rubbed its

head against her frock, and pushed against her feet; then lay down on

one side, and while Jemima stroked it with her hand, she licked her

fingers, and at last jumped up into the window-seat to be still nearer

to its mistress, who taking it into her arms, particularly desired her

brothers to give Puss some of their milk every morning, and to save some

bits of meat at dinner to carry to it; for my Pussey, added she, I am

quite sorry to leave you!--Another affair remained, which was, to put

away all her play-things; but this she had deferred so long, that the

carriage was ready before she had concluded; so with that, likewise, she

was obliged to entrust her brothers; and looking round her with a heavy

heart upon every object she had been accustomed to, she quitted the room

with regret; and after receiving the affectionate kisses of the whole

family, her papa lifted her into the carriage; and the tears running

down her cheeks, she looked out of the window as long as the house was

in sight, and her brothers continued to stand at the gate, till the road

to London turning into a contrary direction, they could no longer see

each other. She then, with a melancholy countenance, watched the fields

and lanes she passed by, till at last, quite fatigued, she sat down, and

soon after fell asleep.

When they stopped at the inn where they intended to rest that night, she

was so much fatigued, having been up very early, that she did not wake

till she was nearly undressed; when finding herself in a house where she

had never before been, she looked about, but was too good to fret at

such a circumstance, though she wished to be at home again. The next

morning they renewed their journey, and in two days arrived at Mr.

Piner's house, about eight o'clock in the evening.

Jemima, who had not seen her cousins since she was two years old, had

entirely forgotten them; and as they expected to find her as much a baby

as at their last interview, they appeared like entire strangers to each

other. They welcomed their papa and mamma, and looked at Miss Placid

with silent amazement; both parties, indeed, said the civil things they

were desired, such as, How do you do, cousin? rather in a low and

drawling tone of voice; and Miss Sally, who was eight years old, turned

her head on one side, and hung on her papa's arm, though he tried to

shake her off, and desired her to welcome Miss Placid to London, and to

say, She was glad to see her, to inquire after her papa, mamma, and

brothers, and, in short, to behave politely, and receive her in a

becoming manner. To do this, however, Mr. Piner found was impossible, as

his daughters were not at any time distinguished by the Graces, and were

always particularly aukward, from their shyness at a first

introduction.--In this place, my dear Eliza, you must excuse me, if I

stop to hint at a like error in your own conduct, and which indeed,

young ladies in general are too apt to be inattentive to: that as first

impressions are usually the strongest, it is of great consequence to

impress your company with a favourable opinion of your appearance. As

you are acquainted with the common forms of good breeding, you should

consider, that it is quite immaterial whether you address a lady you

have before seen, or one with whom you are unacquainted, since the

compliments of civility are varied only by the circumstances of your

knowledge, or the different connexions of the person to whom you are

speaking. When, therefore, you are in company with strangers, you should

accustom yourself to say what is proper (which will be to answer any

question they may ask you) without at all considering how long you have

known them; and, be assured, that as an easy behaviour is at all times

most agreeable, you will certainly please when you speak with a modest

degree of freedom. Do not, therefore, make yourself uneasy with the idea

of appearing aukward, for by that means you will defeat your wishes; but

endeavour to retain your natural voice, and express yourself with the

same unconcern as you do in common conversation; since every species of

affectation is disagreeable, and nothing will so strongly recommend you

as simplicity.

[Illustration]

Our young traveller became, by the next morning, very sociable with her

cousins, and complied with their customs with that cheerful obligingness

which has always so much distinguished her character. She was much

surprised at the bustle which she saw in the street, and the number of

carriages so agreeably engaged her attention, that it was with

reluctance she quitted her seat on a red trunk by the window, to enjoy

the plays in which her cousins were solicitous to engage her. Mrs.

Piner had been for some time engaged to dine with a lady of her

acquaintance, where she could not conveniently take either of her

children, and they both fretted and pined at the disappointment so as to

render themselves uncomfortable, and lose the pleasure of a holiday,

which their mamma had allowed them in consequence of their cousin's

arrival. Miss Ellen, the eldest, was continually teazing to know the

reason why she might not go? though she had repeatedly been told it was

inconvenient; and Jemima beheld with astonishment two girls, so much

older than herself, presume to argue with their mamma about the

propriety of her commands, when their duty should have been quiet

submission. When her aunt was gone, she took all the pains in her power

to engage them to be good-humoured, presented them with their toys, and

carried to them their dolls; but they sullenly replied, to all her

endeavours, they did not want them; and told her not to plague them so,

for they had seen them all a hundred times. At last, Sally taking up a

little tin fireplace, which belonged to her sister, Miss Ellen snatched

it from her, and said, She should not have it! Sally caught it back

again, and they struggled for it with such passion, as to be entirely

careless of the mischief they might do each other.

[Illustration]

Poor Jemima, who had never disagreed with her brothers, nor been witness

to such a scene in her life, was terrified to see them engage with a

degree of violence which threatened them with essential hurt. She

endeavoured to appease their fury, and ventured, after she had stood

still for some time between two chairs, to try if, by catching hold of

one of their hands, she could be able to part them; but they only gave

her some blows, and said, She had no business in their quarrel! She

then retired to the farther part of the room, and ardently wished

herself at home. When spying another fire-place under the table, she

took it up with good-natured transport, and running to Miss Piner, told

her, There was one for her; which she hoped would put an end to the

dispute. This, however, proved to be the property of Miss Sally, who

declared, in her turn, that her sister should not touch any of her

play-things; and finding she was not strong enough to retain it, she

threw it with all her force to the other end of the room, and

unfortunately hit Miss Placid a blow with one of the sharp corners, just

above her temple. This at once put an end to the battle, for the blood

immediately trickled down her cheek, and alarmed the two sisters, who,

forgetting the subject of the debate, began to be uneasy at the effects

of it; only Ellen, who considered herself as more innocent (merely

because she had not been the immediate cause of the accident), with a

recriminating air, said, There, miss, you have done it now; You have

killed your cousin, I believe! Jemima, though in a great deal of pain,

and much frightened, did not cry; as she seldom shed tears, unless from

sensibility, or at parting with her friends. She held her handkerchief

to the place, and became more alarmed, in proportion as she saw it

covered with blood; till at last, finding it was beyond their art to

stop the effusion, Ellen, with trembling steps, went up stairs to tell

the servant of their misfortune. Dinah, which was the maid's name, had

been so often accustomed to find her young ladies in mischief, that she

did not descend in very good-humour, and upon her entrance exclaimed,

That they were all the naughtiest girls in the world! without inquiring

how the accident happened, or making any exception to the innocence of

Jemima, who could only again most sincerely wish to be once more at

Smiledale with her mamma. Dinah, after washing her temple with vinegar,

which made it smart very much (though she did not complain), told them,

They had been so naughty that they should not go to play any more; nor

would she hear Miss Placid's justification, but crossly interrupted her,

by saying, Hold your tongue, child! and do not want to get into mischief

again; for my mistress will make a fine piece of work, I suppose, about

what you have done already!--Jemima was too much awed, by the ill-nature

of her looks and the anger of her expressions, to vindicate her conduct

any farther; but quietly sitting down, she comforted herself with the

reflection, that her displeasure was undeserved, and that to fret at

what she could not avoid, would not make her more happy; and therefore,

with great good humour, took up a bit of paper, which contained the

rough drawing of a little horse, which Charles had given her on the day

of her departure, and which she had since carefully preserved.

[Illustration]

In justice to Mrs. Dinah, I must here observe, that she was not

naturally ill-natured; but the Miss Piners were so frequently naughty,

as to give her a great deal of trouble, and tire out her patience; and

their mamma, by not taking the proper methods to subdue the errors of

their dispositions, had made them so refractory, that it soured her own

temper, and occasioned her to blame her servants for the consequence of

those faults which it was her duty to have prevented. So you see, my

dear Eliza, from such instances, how mistaken is that indulgence, which,

by gratifying the humours of children, will make them impatient and

vindictive, unhappy in themselves, and a trouble to every one with whom

they are connected. The amiable Jemima was always contented and

good-humoured, even when she was not in a state agreeable to her

wishes; and, by learning to submit to what she did not like, when it

could not be altered, she obtained the love of every body who knew her,

and passed through life with less trouble than people usually

experience; for, by making it a rule to comply with her situation, she

always enjoyed the comforts it afforded, and suffered as little as

possible from its inconvenience. In the present case, her cousins, by

their ill-temper and fretfulness, had quarrelled with each other; and

when Dinah would not let them play, as indeed they justly deserved to be

punished, they did nothing but grumble and cry the whole day; and were

so conscious of their bad behaviour, as to be afraid of seeing their

mamma; while Miss Placid, serene in her own innocence, entertained

herself for some time with looking at the horse above-mentioned, and

afterwards with pricking it, till Dinah set her at liberty; which,

seeing her good temper, she soon did, and gave her besides some pretty

pictures to look at, and some fruit to eat, of all which her cousins

were deprived. By the next morning Jemima's temple had turned black; and

Mrs. Piner inquired how she had hurt herself? She coloured at the

question with some confusion, not willing to inform her aunt of any

thing to Miss Sally's disadvantage; but as she was too honest to say any

thing but the truth, she begged Mrs. Piner would not be angry if she

informed her; which she having promised, Jemima told her; adding, that

her cousin had no intention to hurt her.

Mrs. Piner kissed and commended Jemima very much; and Dinah having

likewise given a high account of her goodness, she told her daughters

she was much displeased with them; but in consequence of their cousin's

intercession, would not punish them that time, and desired them for the

future to imitate her example.

[Illustration]

As soon as breakfast was over, they were dismissed to school, while

Jemima remained with her aunt; who, after having heard her read, gave

her a handkerchief to hem, which she sat down by her to do; and when she

had done work, very prettily entered into conversation.--I should be

much obliged to you, madam (said she), as I do not know my way about

London, if you would go with me to buy some things for my brothers,

which I promised to carry back when I return. I have got some money to

pay for them, for Charles gave me a six-pence, and three halfpence, and

a farthing; and William gave me three-pence; and I have got a

silver-penny, and a two-pence of my own, all screwed safely in a little

red box.

Mrs. Piner inquired what the articles were which she wished to purchase,

and smiled on perusing the list which Charles had written.--And pray,

my dear, said she, how do you intend to carry the coach-whip, for you

will not be able conveniently to pack it up; and as to the skates, I do

not think your papa would choose your brothers should make use of them

till they are much older, as they are very dangerous, and particularly

so to little boys. The other things I will endeavour to procure, and you

shall take a walk with me to buy the books, and choose them yourself,

and I will pay for them; so you may save your money in the little box,

for you are a very good girl, and therefore deserve to meet with

encouragement. Jemima thanked her aunt for her kind intentions, and

said, if she could get a coach-whip, she thought she could carry it to

Smiledale in her hand; and as her brothers were always kind to her, she

wished to do every thing in her power to oblige them.

The next day was to be a holiday at her cousins' school, on account of

their dancing-master's ball, to which Miss Piners were invited; and Mrs.

Piner had promised Jemima she should be of the party. They rose in the

morning with the pleasing hopes of enjoying a dance in the evening; and

Ellen went a dozen times in the day to look at her new cap, wishing it

was time to put it on (for she was a silly, vain girl), and was so

foolish as to imagine herself of more consequence, because she was

better dressed than other children.--O Miss Placid! said she, you will

look so dowdy to-night in your plain muslin frock, while all the rest of

the ladies will wear either gauze frocks or silk coats full trimmed.

Have you seen how handsome our dresses will be? Do pray look at them,

added she, opening the drawer, and extending the silk, and then, glad of

an excuse to survey it, she went to a box, and taking out her cap, held

it on her hand, turning it round and round with a degree of pride and

pleasure, which was very silly.

[Illustration]

Jemima good-naturedly admired her cousin's finery, without wishing for

any addition to her own. I am sure, replied she, my mamma has provided

what is proper for me; and is so kind as to afford me every thing

necessary; and my frocks are always clean, and will do extremely well

for the present occasion, or else my aunt would have bought me

another.--But should not you like such a cap? said Miss Ellen, putting

it on Jemima's head: you look very pretty in it, indeed!--No, I think it

is too large for me, returned Miss Placid; and there is a piece of wire

in it, which scratches when you press it down; you should alter that, or

it will be very uncomfortable.--In short, the ball was the only subject

of conversation during the whole day; and although Miss Piner felt an

uncommon head-ach and sickness, yet she would not complain, for fear her

mamma should think proper to leave her at home. The pain, however,

increased greatly, and she frequently left the parlour to give vent to

her complaints, and avoid her mamma's notice. The heaviness of her eyes,

and alternate change of countenance from pale to red, at last took Mrs.

Piner's attention, and she tenderly inquired after her health; but Ellen

affected to treat her indisposition as a trifle; though, as she was by

no means patient in general, she would at any other time have made

incessant complaints. She attempted to laugh and play, but to no

purpose, for her illness became too violent to be suppressed; however,

upon her papa's hinting at dinner that she seemed to have no appetite,

and had better (if not well) go to-bed, she forced herself, against her

inclination, to eat some meat and pudding, and went up afterwards to

conceal her uneasiness, and put on her clothes; thinking, that if she

was in readiness it would be an additional reason for her going. But

alas! so foolish is vanity, and so insignificant are outward ornaments,

that when Miss Ellen was decked out in the gauze frock which had so long

engaged her thoughts, she felt such a degree of uneasiness from her

sickness, as to make her disregard what she had before wished for with

such ill-placed ardour.

Having eaten more than was proper for her stomach in such a disordered

state, it increased her illness very much; but being determined to go,

though her mamma advised her to the contrary, and pretending she was

somewhat better, she stepped into the coach, the motion of which soon

produced a most terrible catastrophe; and before she could speak for

assistance, occasioned such a violent sickness, as totally spoiled her

own and her cousin's clothes, who sat opposite to her; nor did Sally's

quite escape the disaster; for as she had spread them over Jemima, with

an intent to display their beauties, they shared in part that calamity

which had so unfortunately overtaken the others.

Mrs. Piner, though she was grieved at her daughter's indisposition, was

likewise extremely angry at the consequence of her obstinacy.--If you

had stayed at home, as I bade you, said she, somewhat angrily, nothing

of this would have happened! and pulling the check-string, added, We

must turn about, coachman, for we cannot proceed in this

condition!--Sally, notwithstanding her sister's illness, continually

teazed her mamma, to know whether they should go when Ellen was set

down, and her own dress wiped; without attending to her sister's

complaints. When the carriage reached Mr. Piner's, he came himself

hastily to the door, to know what accident had occasioned their

unexpected return; and upon being informed, lifted poor Ellen into the

house, while her sister declared she would not walk in-doors, as she

wanted to go to the ball. Dinah was, however, called down, and with much

resistance conveyed the young lady crying and kicking up stairs.

Jemima stood by unnoticed in the general confusion, and Miss Piner was

undressed with the utmost expedition, and sincerely rejoiced to be rid

of the incumbrance of that finery which in another situation would have

excited her envy. Our little Heroine, whose sense as well as serenity

was uncommon, reflected, that gay clothes must certainly in themselves

be of little value, since they could not prevent the approach of

disease, or suspend for a moment the attacks of pain; that the pleasure

they bestowed, as it was ill-founded, was likewise extremely transient,

as Sally's passion on her disappointment was sufficient to prove;

since she was now mortified in proportion as she had before been elated.

And though her sister's reflexions were, for the present, suspended by

the violence of pain, yet her vexation, when she was restored to the

ability of contemplating the state of her clothes, would be equally

poignant, and without remedy.

[Illustration]

While Miss Placid, in obedience to her aunt, took off the frock which

had suffered so much in its short journey, Sally sat screaming and

crying in an easy chair, into which she had thrown herself, declaring

she would go! and pushed Dinah away as often as she attempted to take

out a pin. Nor would she be pacified by any endeavours which were used

to please and amuse her; till her mamma, quite tired with her noise and

ill-humour, declared she would send word to her governess the next

morning, if she did not do what she was desired; upon which threat she

submitted to be undressed; but petulantly threw every article of her

attire upon the ground, and afterwards sat down in one of the windows

in sullen silence, without deigning an answer to any question that was

proposed to her. Jemima was as much disappointed as her cousin could be,

and had formed very high expectations of the pleasure she should receive

at the ball; but she had been always accustomed to submit to unavoidable

accidents without repining, and to make herself happy with those

amusements in her power, when she was deprived of what she might wish

for, but could not procure.

Some time after this, Mr. Steward, a gentleman who lived at Smiledale,

came up to town about business, and called upon Mr. Piner with an

intention of seeing Miss Jemima, who was much distressed that she

happened to be absent, as she wished to hear some news of her papa and

brothers. However, he returned again the next day, and Miss Placid very

gracefully paid her respects to him, and inquired after the friends she

had left. He satisfied her as to their health, and presented her with a

letter from her brother Charles, which, as soon as she could find an

opportunity, she retired to read. The contents were as follow:--

To MISS PLACID.

MY DEAR SISTER;

As William writes so very slowly, and as papa does not think he

should scribble at all, he has desired me to inform you of every

thing that has passed since you left us. And first I must

acquaint you with a sad accident, which will render one of your

commissions useless. Poor Hector, the day after you went away,

was lost for several hours. We went to every house in the

village, and hunted behind every tomb in the church-yard;

called, Hector! Hector! through all the fields, and then returned

and sought him in our own garden again; looked under the bench in

the poultry-yard, nay, even in the cellar and coal-hole; but no

Hector returned. We sat down together on the bottom stair in the

hall, and William cried ready to break his heart. Papa said he

was sorry; but told us our tears would not bring him back, and

advised us to bear the loss of him with more fortitude; took

William on his lap, and read a story to divert him. We got

tolerably cheerful, and went down to tea; but as soon as my

brother took up his bread and butter, the thoughts of Hector

always jumping up to him for a bit, and how he would bark, and

snap in play at his fingers, quite overcame his firmness, and he

could not touch a morsel. Well, to make short of the story, the

next morning John came in and told papa, that 'Squire Sutton's

game-keeper, not knowing to whom he belonged, had shot him for

running after the deer.--Why now, said I, if he had but stayed

away from the park till Jemima had brought him a collar, he would

not have been killed. Poor Hector! I shall hate Ben Hunt as long

as I live for it.--Fie, Charles! said my father.--Hector is dead,

Sir, said I; and I did not then stay to hear any farther. But

since that, we have talked a great deal about love and

forgiveness; and I find I must love Ben Hunt, even though I now

see poor Hector's tomb in the garden. For John went to fetch him,

and we buried him under the lilac-tree, on the right hand side,

just by the large sun-flower; and we cried a great deal, and made

a card tomb-stone over his grave; and papa gave us an old

hat-band, and we cut it into pieces, and we went as mourners. His

coffin was carried by Tom Wood, the carpenter's son, whose

father was so kind as to make it for us; while James Stavely (the

clerk's nephew), my brother, and I, followed as chief mourners;

and old Nurse and Peggy put on their black hoods, which they had

when Jane Thompson died, and went with us; and we had the kitchen

table-cloth for a pall, with the old black wrapper put over it

which used to cover the parrot's cage; but we did not read any

thing, for that would not have been right; as you know, after

all, he was but a dog. Papa, however, to please us, wrote the

following epitaph, which I very carefully transcribed, and

affixed over his grave:--

Here Hector lies, more bless'd by far,

Than he who drove the victor's car;

Who once Patroclus did subdue,

And suffer'd for the conquest too.

Like him, o'ercome by cruel fate,

Stern fortune's unrelenting hate;

An equal doom severe he found,

And Hunt inflicts the deadly wound.

Less cruel than Pelides, he

His manes were pursuits to be;

And satisfied to see him fall,

Ne'er dragg'd him round the Trojan wall.

[Illustration]

I am very sorry for the poor fellow's untimely end; and so, I

dare say, you will be.--Our rabbit has kindled; and we have one

in particular the skin of which is white, with black spots, the

prettiest I ever saw, and which we have called Jemima, and will

give it to you when you return.--Peggy has sprained her ancle, by

a fall down stairs. I forgot my wooden horse, and left it in the

way; and she came down in the dark, and stumbled over it. I was

very sorry, and my papa was much displeased, as it is what he has

so often cautioned us against.--Jack Dough, the baker's boy,

brought me a linnet yesterday, which I have placed in a cage near

your canary-bird; who is very well.--I do not think I have much

more to say, for writing is such tedious work that I am quite

tired, though what I have done has been a fortnight in hand. I

have a great many things which I want to tell you if we could

meet; and I should wish to know how you like London. Good bye!

William desires his love to you, and bids me say, that he, as

well as myself, will ever be

Your affectionate Brother,

CHARLES PLACID.

P. S. Inclosed I have sent you a sketch of Hector's funeral

procession, which your favourite, Ned Kindly, who was one of the

party, drew on purpose for you.

You may be sure that the intelligence of Hector's death gave Jemima some

uneasiness; more especially, as at the first time Mr. Steward had

called, she was out with her aunt, and actually purchased a collar for

him; which, before the receipt of her letter, she had contemplated with

great satisfaction, in the idea of having so well executed her brothers'

commission, and the pleasure it would afford them.

[Illustration]

When Miss Placid had been in town about four months, and her mamma was

returned from Bristol, Mr. Placid came up to fetch her home, and invited

her cousins to accompany her to Smiledale, promising to take great care

of them, and to teach them to read and write; and that Mrs. Placid would

instruct them in every other part of their learning. To which Mr. and

Mrs. Piner consented. The pleasure which Jemima felt at seeing her papa

after so long an absence, can be better imagined than described. She

looked at him with such transport, that the tears started to her eyes;

and wanting words to declare the feelings of her heart, could only

express her joy by stroking and kissing his hand, as she sat on a stool

by his side; and pressing it with fervor between both hers, she

exclaimed, that she was glad to see him. Her uncle and aunt gave her the

highest praise for her good-behaviour, and assured her papa, that they

had never, during the whole time of her visit, seen her once out of

humour, or at all fretful upon any occasion. Mr. Placid said he was

extremely happy to hear so good an account of his little girl; but that

he expected every thing amiable from the sweetness of her disposition;

adding, it would be very strange if she had behaved otherwise with you,

as, I assure you, she is at all times equally tractable and engaging.

The evening before her departure, her aunt was so obliging as to present

her with a new doll, which she had taken great pains to dress, and had

made for it two dimity petticoats, with a nice pair of stays, a pink

sattin coat, and a muslin frock. She had likewise purchased some cotton

stockings, and a pair of red shoes with white roses, white gloves tied

with pink strings, and a gauze cap with pink sattin ribbons. Jemima,

with a graceful courtesy, paid her acknowledgments to Mrs. Piner for

that favour, and all the kind attentions she had received since she had

been in town, and saw it packed up with great care in a box by itself;

pleasing herself with the joy it would afford her, to show it to her

mamma. She then busied herself in putting up the Indian glue, and a

great quantity of pictures which had been given her; poor Hector's

collar, and several books which she had bought and had already perused

with much delight, particularly A Course of Lectures for Sunday

Evenings; The Village School, and Perambulation of a Mouse, 2 vols.

each; together with the First Principles of Religion, and the Adventures

of a Pincushion. All these mighty volumes she took with her to

Smiledale, and Mr. Placid was so much pleased with them, as to send for

an additional supply to present to his friends. As to the skates, he had

desired her not to think about them as he should by no means approve of

her brothers' using them; nor would they have occasion for a coach-whip;

but as he knew Charles had broken his bat, she might carry him one

instead. Jemima entreated permission to convey to them a drum, as she

thought it would be a play-thing they would much enjoy; to this he

immediately consented, and went himself to procure one.

[Illustration]

Miss Piners, who were in as great a hurry with their preparations as

Jemima, behaved with less composure on the occasion: they tossed every

thing out of their drawers in search of such toys as they could possibly

take with them, and wanted to pack up their whole stock of play-things

(which, indeed, was a very large one), and then as fast as Dinah put

what they desired into their trunk, Ellen snatched it out if it belonged

to her sister; and Sally did the same unless it happened to be her own.

So that, quite tired with their teazing, naughty behaviour, she turned

it topsy-turvy, and declared she would not put up any one thing except

their clothes; and added, She wished they were gone, with all her heart.

[Illustration]

I shall not take up your time with any account of their journey, nor

endeavour to describe the places which they passed through in their way

to Smiledale, whither they arrived about five o'clock in the afternoon.

Jemima ran to her mamma with a degree of rapture which evinced the

sincerity of her joy, in returning to her embraces, as soon as her

brothers would permit her to disengage herself from their caresses; for

as they knew the day which was fixed for their return, and could nearly

guess at the time she would arrive, they had taken their stand at the

very place where they had parted with her; and as soon as the carriage

came in sight, they ran with their utmost speed to meet it, and came

back again, jumping by the side, and when the coach stopped, were so

eager to welcome their sister, that they would scarcely leave room for

her to get out, and they were in such a hurry to show her every new

acquisition they had made since her departure, that they would not allow

her time to speak to any body but themselves.

Charles wanted her to go into the hall to look at his linnet; and

William was as earnest to take her to his rabbits; while Jemima, who was

equally ready to oblige them both, stood still, without knowing which

she should first consent to follow; till Mr. Placid, taking hold of her

hand, thus moderated the impatience of his sons:--My dear boys, I am

much delighted to see your mutual affection for each other, and the

pleasure you express at your sister's return; but do not be in such a

hurry to show her those things which she will to-morrow have sufficient

time to inspect. We all wish at present to enjoy her company, and

therefore defer your intention of taking her from us to-night, as I hope

you will have no occasion to fear a speedy separation; besides, I think

you are a little wanting in politeness, not to take notice of your

cousins.

Charles said he did not know them; and William declared he did not want

them; and both acknowledged they had nothing to say to them.

[Illustration]

Jemima Placid; or, The Advantage of Good-Nature · 第 1 / 3 段