"You she preferred to all the gay resorts,
Where female vanity might wish to shine,
The pomp of cities, and the pride of courts."
LYTTELTON.
At the end of the time prescribed, the judges, including Victoire
herself, who was the most severe of them all, agreed she had justly
deserved her reward. Maurice obtained his wish; and Victoire's temper
never relapsed into its former bad habits--so powerful is the effect of a
well-chosen motive! Perhaps the historian may be blamed for dwelling on
such trivial anecdotes; yet a lady, who was accustomed to the
conversation of deep philosophers and polished courtiers, listened
without disdain to these simple annals. Nothing appeared to her a trifle
that could tend to form the habits of temper, truth, honesty, order, and
industry: habits which are to be early induced, not by solemn precepts,
but by practical lessons. A few more examples of these shall be
recorded, notwithstanding the fear of being tiresome.
One day little Babet, who was now five years old, saw, as she was coming
to school, an old woman sitting at a corner of the street beside a large
black brazier full of roasted chestnuts. Babet thought that the
chestnuts looked and smelled very good; the old woman was talking
earnestly to some people, who were on her other side; Babet filled her
work-bag with chestnuts, and then ran after her mother and sister, who,
having turned the corner of the street, had not seen what passed. When
Babet came to the schoolroom, she opened her bag with triumph, displayed
her treasure, and offered to divide it with her companions. "Here,
Victoire," said she, "here is the largest chestnut for you."
But Victoire would not take it; for she said that Babet had no money,
and that she could not have come honestly by these chestnuts. She spoke
so forcibly upon this point that even those who had the tempting morsel
actually at their lips forbore to bite; those who had bitten laid down
their half-eaten prize; and those who had their hands full of chestnuts
rolled them back again towards the bag. Babet cried with vexation.
"I burned my fingers in getting them for you, and now you won't eat
them!--And I must not eat them!" said she: then curbing her passion, she
added, "But at any rate, I won't be a thief. I am sure I did not think
it was being a thief just to take a few chestnuts from an old woman who
had such heaps and heaps; but Victoire says it is wrong, and I would not
be a thief for all the chestnuts in the world--I'll throw them all into
the fire this minute!"
"No; give them back again to the old woman," said Victoire.
"But, may be, she would scold me for having taken them," said Babet; "or
who knows but she might whip me?"
"And if she did, could you not bear it?" said Victoire. "I am sure I
would rather bear twenty whippings than be a thief."
"Twenty, whippings! that's a great many," said Babet; "and I am so
little, consider--and that woman has such a monstrous arm!--Now, if it
was Sister Frances, it would be another thing. But come! if you will go
with me, Victoire, you shall see how I will behave."
"We will all go with you," said Victoire.
"Yes, all!" said the children; "And Sister Frances, I dare say, would go,
if you asked her."
Babet ran and told her, and she readily consented to accompany the little
penitent to make restitution. The chestnut woman did not whip Babet, nor
even scold her, but said she was sure that since the child was so honest
as to return what she had taken, she would never steal again. This was
the most glorious day of Babet's life, and the happiest. When the
circumstance was told to Madame de Fleury, she gave the little girl a bag
of the best chestnuts the old women could select, and Babet with great
delight shared her reward with her companions.
"But, alas! these chestnuts are not roasted. Oh, if we could but roast
them!" said the children.
Sister Frances placed in the middle of the table on which the chestnuts
were spread a small earthenware furnace--a delightful toy, commonly used
by children in Paris to cook their little feasts.
"This can be bought for sixpence," said she: "and if each of you twelve
earn one halfpenny apiece to-day, you can purchase it to-night, and I
will put a little fire into it, and you will then be able to roast your
chestnuts."
The children ran eagerly to their work--some to wind worsted for a woman
who paid them a _liard_ for each ball, others to shell peas for a
neighbouring _traiteur_--all rejoicing that they were able to earn
something. The older girls, under the directions and with the assistance
of Sister Frances, completed making, washing, and ironing, half a dozen
little caps, to supply a baby-linen warehouse. At the end of the day,
when the sum of the produce of their labours was added together, they
were surprised to find that, instead of one, they could purchase two
furnaces. They received and enjoyed the reward of their united industry.
The success of their first efforts was fixed in their memory: for they
were very happy roasting the chestnuts, and they were all (Sister Frances
inclusive) unanimous in opinion that no chestnuts ever were so good, or
so well roasted. Sister Frances always partook in their little innocent
amusements; and it was her great delight to be the dispenser of rewards
which at once conferred present pleasure and cherished future virtue.