"Mr. Howard and Mr. Russel were near neighbours; indeed their grounds
were only parted by a clear stream, which flowed between the two
gardens: they were both widowers, and each had one son.
Mr. Russel was an old captain retired from service, with a small fortune
and his pay to live on.
His neighbour Mr. Howard had been a banker in London, and having
amassed a large fortune, withdrew from the fatigues of business, to
enjoy the remainder of his life in the quiet retirement of the country.
These gentlemen were much alike in all their pursuits: they were both
fond of gardening, fishing, and smoking; yet they did not visit, though
they often entered into conversation across the river, when they were
fishing opposite each other.
Mr. Howard's son Philip, or Phil as he was generally called, was nearly
of the same age as Captain Russel's Harry. Captain Russel would not send
Harry to school, for he did not approve of that method of education; Mr.
Howard, on the contrary, kept his son at a public seminary, and only
suffered him to return for a short time during the Midsummer holidays.
He allowed him, indeed, to pass the whole vacation with him at
Christmas, when he thought that he could do the least mischief; and then
Phil would much rather have been at school, for his father made him
study as closely as he did there.
As to Harry Russel, he was the most unlucky boy that ever was born. He
was always in mischief, robbing the farmers' orchards, or trespassing on
their grounds, to deprive the poor innocent birds of their eggs and
young. There always was some complaint being brought in from the maids,
such as, "Sir, is Master Russel to steal the pipes? he has got away ever
so many."
Then when Captain Russel went to shave, he found all his shaving soap
gone: upon inquiry, it always was, "Why, Sir, Master Harry would take
it; he said it was only to blow bubbles with." Poor Captain Russel was
always in a passion: for before he was cool from one he was thrown into
another. There was the gardener, with, "Sir, Master Harry will tread on
the border, Master Harry will run in the high grass, Master Harry will
pluck the fruit;" but, in general, it ended with, "Master Harry will
take the boy away from his work, to play with him." Thus was the Captain
constantly tormented.
Captain Russel would not permit his son to visit, or receive visits,
from any of the young gentlemen in the neighbourhood, for fear of having
his flowers gathered, and his garden injured.
Harry, who was of a very social disposition, rather than not have
playfellows, made companions of his father's cow-boy and all his ragged
brethren; for Mr. Russel kept a cow, and this boy tended her, and worked
in the garden.
Another of Master Henry's bad tricks was taking a large stick, and
dabbling in his father's favourite fishing place; whenever he was found
so employed, he received a good thrashing from the captain, which you
must acknowledge he richly deserved.
Now the Midsummer holidays approached, and Harry heard Mr. Howard tell
his father that Phil was coming home to spend a week or two with him.
This greatly rejoiced Master Hal, for he was very curious to see his
neighbour's son, of whom he formed great hopes.
At length the wished-for day arrived, and Harry ran down to the river to
watch for young Howard's appearing in the opposite garden. He did not
wait long, for a loud shout made him run to the banks of the stream; and
there stood the long expected Phil, throwing stones into the river to
scare the fish.
Now it was very delightful to find a companion; but Harry thought it
still better for him to be as mischievous a creature as he was himself.
They soon greeted each other with great glee, and stood talking some
time across the river. Phil invited Harry to come over to him.
"No," said Harry, "I cannot do that, for I do not choose to undress for
a swim."
"Then come with your clothes on," said Phil; "look, here is a shallow
place."
Harry sat down on the grass, and pulling off his shoes and stockings,
threw them over to Phil; he then paddled across the river with great
expedition, and was joyfully welcomed by young Howard. For a long time
they walked about, keeping at a respectful distance from the house for
fear of being seen by Phil's father; and, as they had many things to
talk about, they did no great harm that day.
From this time the two boys became such friends, that, regardless of
their fathers' express commands to the contrary, they were seldom or
ever apart; and as they were commonly walking arm and arm in one or
other of the gardens, nothing could remain undisturbed for them; the
gardens were robbed of the best fruit, and the newly raked beds were
completely covered with footmarks.
One day Mr. Russel, looking out of the chamber window, was not a little
surprised at beholding his son perched in one of the great cherry-trees
which grew on the grass-plot in front, and Master Phil in the other. In
a tone of great displeasure, he demanded what they were doing there?
Phil replied, without leaving off eating, and with the greatest
audacity, "we are keeping the birds off the cherry-tree, Sir."
Mr. Russel was greatly enraged at the cool impudence of this answer; and
though he made no reply, he muttered to himself, as he turned from the
window, "these are your Eton tricks, young gentleman; but your back
shall pay for it." He then ordered the culprits to be seized as soon as
they left the trees, and to be brought before him.
This was accordingly done; and the luckless pilferers, when they were
preparing to escape, were caught and carried before Mr. Russel, in spite
of all their kicking and struggling. The captain stood ready to receive
them with a horsewhip, which he laid over their shoulders pretty
smartly; and though they implored for mercy, and promised never to
misbehave again, the captain knew that such promises could not be
depended on. When he thought he had punished them sufficiently, he sent
his own boy sobbing to bed, and followed Master Phil, with the horsewhip
in his hand, threatening that the next time he caught him on his side of
the stream that he would give him twice as much; when Phil, on reaching
the stream, boldly plunged in, shoes and all, and splashed over to his
own garden, and ran to the house, crying bitterly.
Though Mr. Howard knew that Phil had well deserved the stripes he had
received, yet he did not choose that any one should chastise his son but
himself, and he told Captain Russel so the next day. Captain Russel said
he had borne with young Howard's lawless conduct long enough, and he
would put up with it no longer, but whip him home whenever he caught him
trespassing on his grounds, and Mr. Howard might do the same by his Hal,
if he liked it. Mr. Howard declared, if he came plaguing him, he would;
and then told Captain Russel it was his unbearable boy who had spoiled
and corrupted the manners of Phil. This Captain Russel denied with some
warmth, and retorted the charge; high words now arose between the
fathers, and, though I am sure neither had any reason to defend their
children, the two gentlemen parted in great wrath; but both agreed to
horsewhip the first boy that entered the other's garden.
It was not long before Mr. Howard put his threat in execution, for in
defiance of these prohibitions, Phil and Hal went into Mr. Howard's
meadow, and were amusing themselves with swinging on the great gate.
This made Mr. Howard very angry: he bestowed on them a good caning, and
sent Hal Russel roaring home. One would have thought this might have
cured them of their improper behaviour, but they would get over into the
forbidden gardens now as often as ever. Mr. Howard was at length so
completely wearied by his son's mischievous tricks, that he determined
to shorten his holidays by three weeks: poor Phil was accordingly doomed
to depart on the next Monday. But on the preceding Saturday he invited
Harry to come over, and have one last gambol in the garden. He told him
there was an early plum-tree loaded with delicious fruit, just ripe, and
persuaded him to come and have the first taste. Harry needed no very
pressing invitation, and having forded the river, he proceeded with his
companion to the plum-tree. The fruit was indeed tempting, and Harry
mounted with great expedition: but he had scarcely tasted one plum
before Phil called,
"Come down, Harry; make haste--my father is coming towards us!"
Harry was so hurried, that he forgot his usual dexterity in descending;
his foot slipped, and he fell with such violence on the ground that his
right arm and leg were broken. Mr. Howard, who had not before observed
that Hal was in the garden, was instantly drawn to the spot by the
screams of the suffering boy, whom he tenderly raised, and saw his
servants convey him carefully home. He returned to his own house, and
conveyed his son to a room which was utterly divested of all furniture,
except a bed to sleep on; he then gave him a supply of bread and water
for the day, and locked him in.
[Illustration: Page 66. Page 74.
_Published April 20 1823 by Harris & Son corner of St. Pauls._]
Phil, who had now leisure to repent of his folly and wilfulness,
expected at least to be confined in this solitude till he was taken to
school; and he grieved bitterly for the deplorable fate of his companion
Harry, who might probably lose his life, or the use of his limbs. Many
were the tears which he shed while eating his solitary meals, which were
delivered to him in silence by a servant. Often did he wish for his
father's presence, that he might ask his forgiveness; but three tedious
days and nights passed on, and Mr. Howard did not appear. All the
amusement Phil had, was looking out of a high and closely-barred window.
He had not even a book to pass away the heavy hours, though he would
have been thankful for the dullest that ever was written. On the fourth
day, towards the evening, as he was sitting sighing in a corner, the
door unlocked, and on raising his eyes, his father stood before him,
looking very stern and severe. He took the culprit's hand in silence,
and led him through the garden. Phil shuddered when he saw the fatal
tree, the cause of so much sorrow, and felt thankful when he had passed
it. Mr. Howard conducted him through their own meadow to a little bridge
that crossed the river, and divided Captain Russel's field from theirs.
The gate of this bridge was always before kept padlocked; but on this
occasion Mr. Howard opened it, and proceeded to Captain Russel's house,
and went up the stairs to Harry's bed-chamber. The curtains were closed
round the bed, and Captain Russel sat there, reading the Bible aloud.
When he saw Mr. Howard, he rose and gave him his hand. Mr. Howard asked
if his patient were awake. "Yes," said Captain Russel, unclosing the
curtains, and exhibiting to the weeping Phil his once healthy and
blooming companion, reduced, comparatively, to a shadow. He was
supported by a number of pillows, and looked like death. His hair, that
used to curl in ringlets round his rosy, laughing face, now hung lank
and straight over his sunken eyes and wan cheeks. This sad sight filled
the heart of Phil with grief and remorse: he threw himself by the side
of the bed, and hid his face in the bed-clothes to stifle his sobs.
Harry stretched out his burning hand, and in a feeble voice desired him
to be comforted.
"See, young man," said Captain Russel, "the fatal effects of
disobedience: this might have been _your_ fate: let this misfortune be a
lesson to you for the future. I see I need say no more."
Phil was truly penitent: he sobbed as if his heart would break, and
implored forgiveness with such unaffected sorrow, that the two gentlemen
freely pardoned him. "From this time," he said, "I will be as dutiful
as I was before disobedient, and if poor Hal does but recover, we will
never be mischievous again."
"Think, Philip," said his father, "if Harry dies, you will have to
answer for being the means of depriving Captain Russel of his only
child."
Phil's grief now became so violent, that Mr. Howard thought that he had
better take him away.
"Oh, Sir," said Phil (taking the hand of Captain Russel), "pray let me
stay by Harry. I will sit quite still, and make no noise; indeed I
cannot leave him."
The sick boy, in a low and feeble voice, begged that his friend might
stay. Captain Russel kindly consented, and Philip took his station by
the side of Harry's bed, and by every tender care endeavoured to soothe
his pain and raise his spirits. When Captain Russel saw that Philip had
naturally a noble disposition and a good heart, he would come and
converse with him, and often praised him for the friendly attention he
shewed his suffering friend. When Philip dared ask him questions, he
inquired what had happened during the days he had passed in confinement.
"The first three days," said Captain Russel, "were passed by my
suffering child in all the agony of pain and delirium; your father, very
kindly, passed all his time with me, sharing my solicitude and grief. On
the evening of the fourth day Harry recovered his senses, and earnestly
begged to see you. Your father immediately went and fetched you, the
rest you know."
Philip had a bed made up in his friend's room, and never left him but
when the doctor was dressing poor Harry's leg and and arm: he then used
to take a little air. At last Harry was able to sit up, but he was
forced to hold his arm in a sling, and have his leg supported by
pillows.
After some weeks Harry was sufficiently recovered to walk in the
garden; and though he soon looked as rosy and handsome as before, still
he always had a slight lameness, which served to remind him of his
disobedience.
Philip staid at home till Harry was quite well, and then their fathers
agreed that both the boys should go together to Eton school. This plan
was carried into execution, and when they returned at Christmas they
were so completely altered in their deportment, that their fathers
beheld them with pride and pleasure.
You may be sure that the next Midsummer holidays were spent in a very
different manner from those of the preceding year. Mr. Howard and
Captain Russel had now become intimate friends, and often made a
comfortable party by the river side, with their pipes and fishing
tackle; and when the boys came, they would sit and play quietly at
draughts, or chess, on a seat near them.
Hal was never heard to repine at this accident, but as he grew up he
often declared that this misfortune had proved a blessing to him and
Philip, and would warn any wayward children he saw in mischief to desist
from evil, lest, like him, they should suffer from the bad effects of
_disobedience_.
----
The cloth was laid for dinner by the time Mrs. Dormer had finished her
story. The children all looked very grave at the end, and seemed much
edified: particularly William, who said, as he seated himself at table,
"I am afraid, mamma, you think that I behaved as bad as Harry or Phil
this morning."
"No, Willy," said his mother, "what you did wrong was not the result of
wilful mischief but was only for want of thought: for instance, if I had
looked over the pales when you were dancing on the plants, and told you
to come away, and never to do so again, I think I can answer for my
William that he would not have disobeyed me."
"No, dear mamma," said William, "I hope I should not have been so
wicked."
Just as dinner was finished, Edward Matthews drove up to the door in a
donkey chaise, which he had brought, by the desire of his father, that
the little girls might not be fatigued with walking in the heat of the
day. Mrs. Dormer, with Kate and Mary, were soon ready; and Edward,
having lifted the young ladies and little Lewis into the chaise, walked
with William by the side of the donkey, leading him, and patting his
neck. Mr. and Mrs. Dormer walked behind, and were greatly pleased with
the attention and kindness of Edward: who, to say the truth, was a
favourite with all the family. He was a fine manly youth of thirteen,
but though he was by many years older than the little Dormers, he was
so sweet tempered that they doated on him.
The little party proceeded joyously across the heath, exulting in the
company of their dear Edward; who, poor fellow, had need of two or three
pair of ears: for, in the joy of their hearts, the children all talked
at once, telling him all the wonderful things that had happened to them
since they saw him last.
The afternoon passed rapidly; and the children enjoyed themselves so
much, that their indulgent parents, rejoicing to see them good and
happy, delayed breaking up the party till the latest minute. When the
hour of separation at length arrived, and they were preparing to depart,
Mrs. Matthews asked Mrs. Dormer if she would permit her little family to
join her sons in a party to Hampstead-fair, that day week. Now Mrs.
Dormer had a dislike to fairs; but as Mr. Dormer seemed to wish it, and
the children all looked up in her face with most anxious countenances,
she would not withhold her consent.
The donkey chaise was again brought to the door, and the little Dormers
had a charming ride home. Mary, in particular, was delighted at seeing
the heath spangled with glow-worms.
"Oh, papa," she exclaimed, "do let me get out and catch some of the
lovely creatures; I never saw any before."
"No, Mary," said her mother, "you must not run on the damp grass with
your thin shoes. Look," continued she, holding up her handkerchief,
which shone like a lamp, "see, Mary, I have collected a great many of
the lovely creatures, as you call them, and will examine them when we
get home."
Mary was highly pleased at this; but she could not help calling out, as
she saw these beautiful insects shine brighter as the darkness
increased: "Oh, mamma, there is another! do catch it."
All the little party were quite grieved when they turned down the lane
that separated their house from the heath.
Sleep weighed too heavy on the eyes of all the children to allow them to
look at the glow-worms that night, but in the morning Mary ran into her
mother's dressing-room to look at the beautiful prisoners. She hastily
took off the lid of a glass jar, in which her mother had placed them,
and, lifting up some wet moss, gave almost a shriek of disappointment.
"Oh, mamma," she said, "all the glow-worms have run away; here are
nothing but some ugly brown beetles! I dare say they have eaten those
pretty creatures."
"What a pity!" said Kate. "Dear aunt, let us empty the jar into the
garden."
"No, my love," said her aunt, "let them alone; perhaps these beetles may
bring us some tidings of the glow-worms." At that minute they heard Mr.
Dormer below, talking to Edward, who had just arrived, with his little
brother George. Mrs. Dormer, therefore, went down to ask them to dinner;
which invitation they thankfully accepted.
In the cool of the evening, after the children and their guests had
tired themselves with play, they all came up to Mrs. Dormer's
dressing-room and begged for a story. Mrs. Dormer had prepared for them,
there, a regale of cakes and fruit, and while they were enjoying it, she
kindly read to them the story of