wishes, provided it would add to her happiness; but she was rather
fearful it might have a contrary effect. As Miss Caroline could not give
in to this mode of thinking, she requested her mamma to explain her
reasons for what she had said.
"Because," said her mother, "you will be in continual fear of spotting
your silk slip, and even rumpling it whenever you wear it. A dress like
that of Miss Flippant will require the utmost care and attention to
preserve it from accidents; for a single spot will spoil its beauty, and
you very well know there is no washing of silks. However extensive my
fortune may be, I assure you, it is not sufficient to purchase you silk
gowns as often as you would wish to have them."
Miss Charlotte considered these arguments as very trifling, and promised
to give her mamma no uneasiness as to her carelessness in wearing her
fine clothes. Though her mamma consented to let her be dressed in the
manner she requested, yet she desired her to remember the hints she had
given her of the vexations to which her vanity would expose her.
Miss Caroline, on whom this good advice had no effect, lost not a moment
in destroying all the pleasure and enjoyment of her infancy. Her hair,
which before hung down in careless ringlets, was now twisted up in
paper, and squeezed between a burning pair of tongs; that fine jet,
which had hitherto so happily set off the whiteness of her forehead, was
lost under a clod of powder and pomatum.
In a few days the mantua-maker arrived with a fine slip of pea-green
taffety, with fine pink trimmings, and a pair of shoes, elegantly worked
to answer the slip. The sight of them gave infinite pleasure to
Caroline; but it was easily to be perceived, when she had them on, that
her limbs were under great restraint, and her motions had lost their
accustomed ease and freedom. That innocence and candour, which used to
adorn her lovely countenance, began to be lost amidst the profusion of
flowers, silks, gauzes, and ribands.
The novelty, however, of her appearance quite enchanted her. Her eyes,
with uncommon eagerness, wandered over every part of her dress, and were
seldom removed, unless to take a general survey of the whole in a pier
glass. She prevailed on her mamma to let her send cards of invitation to
all her acquaintances, in order to enjoy the inexpressible pleasure of
being gazed at. As soon as they were met, she would walk backwards and
forwards before them, like a peacock, and seemed to consider herself as
the empress of the world, and they as her vassals.
All this triumph and consequence, however, met with many mortifying
circumstances. The children who lived near her were one day permitted to
ramble about the fields, when Caroline accompanied them, and led the
way. What first attracted their attention was a beautiful meadow,
enamelled with a variety of charming flowers; and butterflies, whose
wings were of various colours, hovered over its surface. The little
ladies amused themselves with hunting these butterflies, which they
dexterously caught without hurting them; and, as soon as they had
examined their beauties, let them fly again. Of the flowers that sprung
beneath their feet they made nosegays, formed in the prettiest taste.
Though pride would not at first permit Miss Caroline to partake of these
mean amusements, yet she at last wanted to share in the diversion; but
they told her that the ground might be damp, which would infallibly
stain her shoes, and hurt her silk slip. They had discovered her
intention in thus bringing them together, which was only to show her
fine clothes, and they were therefore resolved to mortify her vanity.
Miss Caroline was of course under the necessity of being solitary and
inactive, while her companions sported on the grass, without fear of
incommoding themselves. The pleasure she had lately taken in viewing her
fine slip and shoes was, at this moment, but a poor compensation for
the mirth and merriment she thereby lost.
On one side of the meadow grew a fine grove of trees, which resounded
with the various notes of innumerable birds, and which seemed to invite
every one that passed that way to retire thither, and partake of the
indulgences of the shade. The little maidens entered this grove, jumping
and sporting, without fearing any injury to their clothes. Miss Caroline
would have followed them, but they advised her not, telling her, that
the bushes would certainly tear her fine trimmings. She plainly saw that
her friends, who were joyously sporting among the trees, were making
themselves merry at her expense, and therefore grew peevish and
ill-humoured.
The youngest of her visitors, however, had some sort of compassion on
her. She had just discovered a corner, where a quantity of fine wild
strawberries grew, when she called to Miss Caroline, and invited her to
eat part of them. This she readily attempted; but no sooner had she
entered the grove, than she was obliged to call out for help. Hereupon
the children all gathered to the spot, and found poor Caroline fastened
by the gauze of her hat to a branch of white-thorn, from which she could
not disengage herself. They immediately took out the pins that fastened
her hat; but, to add to her misfortunes, as her hair, which had been
frizzed with so much labour, was also entangled with the branch of
white-thorn, it cost her almost a whole lock before she could be set at
liberty. Thus, in an instant, was all the boasted superstructure of her
head-dress put into a state of confusion.
After what had passed, it cannot be difficult to suppose in what manner
her playmates viewed this accident. Instead of consolation, of which
Caroline stood in much need, they could not refrain laughing at the odd
figure she made, and did actually torment her with a hundred witty
jokes. After having put her a little into order, they quitted her in
search of new amusements, and were soon seen at the top of a
neighbouring hill.
Miss Caroline found it very difficult to reach this hill; for her fine
shoes, that were made very tight, in order to set off her feet the
better, greatly retarded her speed. Nor was this the only
inconvenience; for her stays were drawn so close, that she could not
properly breathe. She would very willingly have gone home to change her
dress, in order to be more at ease; but she well knew that her friends
would not give up their amusements to please her caprice.
Her playmates having reached the summit of the hill, enjoyed the
beautiful prospect that surrounded them on all sides. On one hand were
seen verdant meadows; on the other the riches of the harvest, with
meandering streams that intersected the fields, and country seats and
cottages scattered here and there. So grand a prospect could not fail of
delighting them, and they danced about with joy; while poor Caroline
found herself obliged to remain below, overwhelmed with sorrow, not
being able to get up the hill.
In such a situation, she had leisure enough to make the most sorrowful
reflections. "To what purpose," said she to herself, "am I dressed in
these fine clothes? Of what a deal of pleasure do they debar me; and do
not all my present sufferings arise merely from the possession of them?"
She was giving up her mind to these distressing thoughts, when she
suddenly saw her friends come running down the hill, and all crying out
together as they passed her. "Run, run, Caroline! there is a terrible
storm behind the hill, and it is coming towards us: if you do not make
haste, your fine silk slip will be nicely soused!"
The fear of having her slip spoiled, recalled her strength; she forgot
her weariness, pinched feet, and tight-laced waist, and made all the
haste she could to get under cover. In spite of all her efforts,
however, she could not run so fast as her companions, who were not
incommoded by their dresses. Every moment produced some obstacle to her
speed; at one time by her hoop and flounces, in the narrow paths she had
to pass through; at another, by her train, of which the furzes
frequently took hold; and at others by Mons. Pomatum and Powder's fine
scaffold work about her head, on which the wind beat down the branches
of such trees as she was obliged, in her progress home, to pass under.
At last, down came the storm with great fury, and hail and rain, mixed,
fell in torrents. All her companions were safe at home before it began;
and none were exposed to its rage but poor Caroline, who, indeed, got
home at last, but in a most disastrous condition. She had left one of
her fine shoes behind her in a large muddy hole, which in her
precipitate flight, she had hurried over without observing; and, to fill
up the measure of her misfortunes, just as she had got over the meadow,
a sudden gust of wind made free with her hat, and blew it into a pond of
stagnated and filthy water.
So completely soaked was every thing she had on, and the heat and rain
had so glued her linen to her, that it was with some difficulty they got
her undressed; as to her silk slip, it indeed afforded a miserable
spectacle of fallen pride and vanity.
Her mother, seeing her in tears, jocosely said to her, "My dear, shall I
have another slip made up for you against to-morrow?"--"Oh no, mamma,"
answered Caroline, kissing her, "I am perfectly convinced, from
experience, that fine clothes cannot add to the happiness of the wearer.
Let me again have my nice white frock, and no more powder and pomatum
till I am at least ten years older; for I am ashamed of my folly and
vanity."
Caroline soon appeared in her former dress, and with it she recovered
her usual ease and freedom, looking more modest and pleasing than she
ever did in her gaudy finery. Her mamma did not regret the loss she had
sustained in the wreck of the slip, fine shoes, and hat, since it
produced the means of bringing her daughter back to reason and prudence.
[Illustration]
ARTHUR AND ADRIAN; OR TWO HEADS
BETTER THAN ONE.
[Illustration]
Adrian had frequently heard his father say, that children had but little
knowledge with respect to what was the most proper for them; and, that
the greatest proof they could give of their wisdom, consisted in
following the advice of people who had more age and experience. This was
a kind of doctrine Adrian did not understand, or at least would not, and
therefore it is no wonder he forgot it.
This wise and good father had allotted him and his brother Arthur a
convenient piece of ground, in order that each might be possessed of a
little garden, and display his knowledge and industry in the cultivation
of it. They had also leave to sow whatever seed they should think
proper, and to transplant any tree they liked out of their father's
garden into their own.
Arthur remembered those words of his father which his brother Adrian had
forgotten, and therefore went to consult their gardener, Rufus. "Pray
tell me," said he, "what is now in season to sow in my garden, and in
what manner I am to set about my business." The gardener hereupon gave
him several roots and seeds, such as were properest for the season.
Arthur instantly ran and put them in the ground; and Rufus very kindly
not only assisted him in the work, but made him acquainted with many
things necessary to be known.
Adrian, on the other hand, shrugged up his shoulders at his brother's
industry, thinking he was taking much more pains than was necessary.
Rufus, not observing this contemptuous treatment, offered him likewise
his assistance and instruction; but he refused it in a manner that
sufficiently betrayed his vanity and ignorance. He then went into his
father's garden, and took from thence a quantity of flowers, which he
immediately transplanted into his own. The gardener took no notice of
him, but left him to do as he liked.
When Adrian visited his garden the following morning, all the flowers he
had planted hung down their heads, like so many mourners at a funeral,
and, as he plainly saw, were in a dying state. He replaced them with
others from his father's garden; but, on visiting them the next morning,
he found them perishing like the former.
This was a matter of great vexation to Adrian, who consequently became
soon disgusted with this kind of business. He had no idea of taking so
much pains for the possession of a few flowers, and therefore gave it up
as an unprofitable game. Hence his piece of ground soon became a
wilderness of weeds and thistles.
As he was looking into his brother's garden, about the beginning of
summer, he saw something of a red colour hanging near the ground, which,
on examination, he found to be strawberries of a delicious flavour.
"Ah!" said he, "I should have planted strawberries in my garden."
Sometime afterwards, walking again in his brother's garden, he saw
little berries of a milk-white colour, which hung down in clusters from
the branches of a bush. Upon examination, he found they were currants,
which even the sight of was a feast. "Ah!" said he, "I should have
planted currants in my garden."
The gardener then observed to him, that it was his own fault that his
garden was not as productive as his brother's. "Never, for the future,"
said Rufus, "despise the instruction and assistance of any one, since
you will find by experience, that _two heads are better than one_."
[Illustration]
MADAM D'ALLONE AND HER FOUR
PUPILS.
[Illustration]
Madam D'Allone was the governess of four young ladies, Emilia, Harriot,
Lucy, and Sophia, whom she loved with the tenderness of a mother. Her
principal wish was, that her pupils might be virtuous and happy, and
that they might enjoy all the comforts of life with tranquillity. They
each experienced an equal share of her indulgence, and each received the
same treatment, either as to pardon for errors, or rewards, or
punishments.
Her endeavours were crowned with the happiest success, and her four
little girls became the sweetest children upon earth. They told each
other of their faults, and as readily forgave offences; they shared in
each other's joys, nor were they ever happy when separated.
An unforeseen event, however, disturbed this happy tranquillity, just at
the very moment they began to taste its charms, which served to convince
them how necessary it was to be guided by their prudent governess.
Madam D'Allone was obliged to leave her pupils for a little time, a
family affair having made it necessary for her to visit France. She left
them with much reluctance, even sacrificed her interest, in some
measure, to the desire of speedily settling her affairs, and, in the
course of a month, returned in safety to her little flock, who received
her with the warmest expressions of joy; but the alteration she
perceived in her children very much surprised and alarmed her.
She saw it frequently happen, that if one asked the slightest favour of
another, it was ill-naturedly refused, and from thence arose tumults and
quarrels. That gaiety and cheerfulness, which had used to accompany all
their sports and pastimes, were now changed to a gloomy perverseness;
and instead of those tender expressions of love and friendship, which
had constantly dwelt in all their conversations, nothing was now heard
but perpetual jarrings and wranglings. If one proposed a walk in the
garden, another would give some reason why she wished to remain in her
chamber; and, in short, their only study seemed to be to thwart each
other.
It happened one day that, not contented with showing each other how much
they delighted in perverseness, they mutually distressed themselves with
reciprocal reproaches.
Madam D'Allone beheld this scene with the greatest uneasiness, and could
not help shedding tears on the occasion. She did not then think it
prudent to say any thing to them, but retired to her chamber, in order
there to think of the properest means of restoring peace and harmony
among her unhappy pupils.
While she was turning these afflicting thoughts in her mind, all the
four young ladies entered her apartment with a peevish and uneasy look,
each complaining of the ill-temper of the rest. There was not one but
what charged the other three with being the cause of it, and all
together begged their governess would, if possible, restore to them that
happiness they once possessed.
Their governess put on a very serious countenance, and said, "I have
observed, my pupils, that you endeavour to thwart each other, and
thereby destroy your pleasures. In order, therefore, that no such thing
may happen again, let each take up her corner in this room, if she
choose it, and divert herself in what manner she pleases, provided she
does not interfere with either of her sisters. You may immediately have
recourse to this mode of recreation, as you have leave to play till
night; but remember that neither of you stir from the corner in which I
shall place you."
The little maidens, who were no way displeased with this proposal,
hastened to their different quarters, and began to amuse themselves each
in her own way. Sophia commenced a conversation with her doll, or rather
told her many pretty little stories; but her doll had not the gift of
speech, and consequently was no companion. She could not expect any
entertainment from her sisters, as they were playing, each asunder, in
their respective corners.
Lucy took her battledore and shuttlecock, but there was none to admire
her dexterity; besides, she was not allowed to strike it across the
room, as that would have been an invasion on one of her sister's
territories. She could not expect that either of them would quit their
amusements to oblige her.
Harriot was very fond of her old game of hunt the slipper; but what was
she to do with the slipper by herself; she could only shove it from hand
to hand. It was in vain to hope for such service from her sisters, as
each was amusing herself in her assigned corner.
Emilia, who was a very skilful pretty housewife, was thinking how she
might give her friends an entertainment, and of course sent out for many
things to market; but there was at present nobody near, with whom she
might consult on the occasion, for her sisters were amusing themselves
each in her corner.
Every attempt they made to find some new amusement failed, and all
supposed that a compromise would be most agreeable; but, as matters were
carried so far, who was first to propose it? This each would have
considered as a humiliating circumstance; they therefore kept their
distance, and disdainfully continued in their solitude. The day at last
closing, they returned to Madam D'Allone, and begged her to think of
some other amusement for them, than the ineffectual one they had tried.
"I am sorry, my children," said their governess, "to see you all so
discontented. I know but of one way to make you happy, with which you
yourselves were formerly acquainted, but which, it seems, you have
forgotten. Yet, if you wish once more to put it into practice, I can
easily bring it to your recollections." They all answered together, as
though with one voice, that they heartily wished to recollect it, and
stood attentive while their governess was looking at them, in eager
expectation to hear what she had to say.
"What you have lost, or at least forgotten," replied Madam D'Allone, "is
that mutual love and friendship which you once had for each other, and
which every sister ought cheerfully to cherish. O! my dearest little
friends, how have you contrived to forget this, and thereby make me and
yourselves miserable?"
Having uttered these few words, which were interrupted by sighs, she
stopped short, while tears of tenderness stole down her cheeks. The
young ladies appeared much disconcerted, and struck dumb with sorrow and
confusion. Their governess held out her arms, and they all at once
instantly rushed towards her. They sincerely promised that they would
tenderly love each other for the future, and perfectly agree as they
formerly had done.
From this time, no idle peevishness troubled their harmonious
intercourse: and, instead of bickerings and discontents among them,
nothing was seen but mutual condescension, which delighted all who had
the opportunity of being in their company. May this serve as a useful
lesson to my youthful readers, how easy it is for them to promote or
disturb their own happiness.
[Illustration]
THE BIRD'S EGG.
[Illustration]
Master Gregory was fond of walking in a wood, which stood at a short
distance from his father's house. The wood being young, the trees were
consequently small, and placed very near to each other, with two or
three paths between them. As he was one day walking up and down, in
order to rest himself a little, he placed his back against a tree, whose
stem was quite slender, and therefore all its branches shook as soon as
it was touched. This rustling happened to frighten a little bird, who
sprang from a neighbouring bush, and flew into another part of the
wood.
Gregory was vexed to think he had disturbed the bird, and fixed his eyes
upon the bush, in hopes of seeing it return. While he was thus
attentively on the watch, he imagined he saw among the twisted branches
something like a tuft of hay. As his curiosity was raised to know what
it was, he went up close to the hedge, and found this tuft of hay was
hollow, like a bowl. On putting aside the branches, he saw something
like little balls within it, which were spotted, and of an oval shape.
They lay close to each other, on something very soft. "Bless me," said
Gregory, "this must be certainly what I have heard some people call a
bird's nest, and the balls must be eggs. They are indeed less than our
eggs, but then our hens are larger than these birds."
He had some thoughts, at first, of taking away the whole nest; but, upon
second consideration, he contented himself with taking only one of the
eggs, with which he instantly ran home. In the midst of his haste, he
met his sister. "See this little egg," said he to her, "I have just now
found it in a nest, in which were five others."
She desired to have it in her hand, examined it attentively, and then
returned it to her brother. At last, they began rolling it up and down
a table, just as they would a ball. One pushed it one way, and the other
a different way, till at last they pushed it off the table, when it fell
on the floor and broke. This set them a crying, and each mutually
accused the other of being the cause of this sad disaster.
Their mamma, happening to hear them cry, came to inquire into the cause
of it, when both began at once telling their sorrows; and, having heard
their different stories, she took them affectionately by the hand, and
led them to a tree, whose stately boughs afforded a pleasant shade to a
verdant bank, on which they all sat down together.
"My dear children," said their mamma, "make yourselves easy. You have
broken the egg between you, and that, to be sure, is a misfortune; but
it is of too trifling a nature to suffer it to make you unhappy. After
all, Gregory, there is some room of complaint against you, as it was an
act of injustice to rob the poor bird of its egg. You must have seen how
the hen places her eggs in a nest, on which she sits to warm and animate
them. In about three weeks, from the eggs proceed chickens, which pierce
the shell, and in a few days come and feed out of your hand. This egg,
which you have just now broken, had you left it in the nest, would have
become a sort of chick. The bird you saw fly out of the bush was
probably the mother, who will, very likely, return again to see what
mischief you have done her, and perhaps she will forsake it altogether,
which they frequently do when disturbed.
"Though the loss is only a single egg, yet that perhaps will inform them
that their habitation is discovered, when they have every thing to be
afraid of from our violence. They guess, that when their little ones
shall be hatched, those that robbed them of an egg, will return and
seize upon their infant family. If this nest you have been robbing, for
I cannot call it anything less than a robbery, should be on that account
forsaken, I think you will be very sorry for it."
Gregory replied that it would indeed give him much uneasiness, and
seemed very sorry that he had meddled with the egg. "But," said he to
his mamma, "I had not the least thought of what you have been telling
me, nor did I suppose there could be any harm in bringing it to my
sister, for it was principally on that account that I took it."