I was treated very well by this poor family, and, by degrees, got
acquainted with their history. They had known better days. The father,
when living, had been an honest, industrious, and thriving farmer; but
a fire had, in one night, consumed all his stock, and thus reduced
him and his poor children to a state little superior to beggary. He
had lost all but his industry, and that he exerted for some time with
indefatigable ardour; but the anxiety of his mind, and the continual
fatigue he underwent, at length brought on a fever, which terminated
his distresses and his life together.
He had now been dead a twelvemonth, having left four children, (the two
I have mentioned, and two much younger,) who must have gone to the
workhouse, had it not been for Willy’s industry. He not only worked all
day in the garden, but frequently went on errands to a neighbouring
town in the evening; and such were his diligence and honesty, that all
the neighbours were glad to employ him on these occasions.
I must confess, that, though I greatly admired the conduct of this
worthy family, I was not so happy in it, as I had heretofore been.
Little Peggy had not much time to bestow on me; for, though only six
years old, her mother thought it right to habituate her to domestic
employments and the use of her needle, in both of which she was already
very handy. I was, of course, confined much more than I liked; but my
poor little mistress seemed so delighted to possess me, that I was not
very anxious to leave her. However, my opinion was not consulted, for I
soon after left her, owing to the following circumstances.
As Peggy was one day standing at the cottage-door, with one of her
patched frocks on, two young ladies came past. One of them accosting
Peggy, said, “Who mended your frock so nicely, little girl?”
“My mother, Miss,” answered the child; “but the other is done the best,
because I did some of this.”
“Should you like to have a new one?” said the other young lady. “I
think, dear Amelia,” added she, addressing her companion, “this little
creature would do very well for one of them.”
“But do you think she could learn the verses?” said Amelia.
“I dare say she could: I would try to teach her myself.”
“You, Louisa! What would your mamma say?”
“My mamma would have no objection, I am sure; for she often takes me
with her to the Sunday-school, and then I sometimes hear the children
say their hymns.”
“Willy goes to the Sunday-school,” interrupted the little girl; “and he
taught me a hymn; and when he gets a new frock for me, I am to go too.”
“Come,” said Miss Amelia, “we must not stay here; my mamma does not
allow me to visit the cottagers, she has such a terror of infection.
You know I am an only child, and much depends on my life,” added she,
with a mixture of importance and affected languor.
“That is true,” said Louisa, “but you know my mamma has plenty of us,
and she says we must all be useful, for that is the only good of living
at all. However, what do you decide? Shall I prepare the poor child or
not?”
“Just as you like—with all my heart,” returned Amelia, in a tone that
indicated her heart had nothing to do with it.
“Well, then, I will ask mamma,” said Louisa; and away they both went,
without saying any thing more to Peggy.
I must here beg leave to anticipate some part of my history, for the
purpose of informing my readers, what I afterwards learned respecting
these two young ladies. Amelia Wyndham was, as she said, an only
child, and heiress to immense property. Her father had died when she
was an infant, and her mother, on whom the entire management of her
had devolved, indulged her to excess. Misguided affection had some
share in producing such unwise conduct, but pride had a still greater.
She imagined, that because her daughter would possess ample means to
gratify all her fancies, she need not be denied any thing; and because
riches and noble descent confer importance, and induce submission,
she need not be taught obedience or humility, therefore, was never to
be contradicted. It seems, however, that Amelia’s mother forgot that
there are enjoyments which neither rank nor wealth can confer; for
I have observed, that, though rich or proud people may excite fear,
they cannot command esteem or respects—tributes which belong to the
virtuous only. I thought Willy and his little sister much more to be
admired than this young lady. Besides, they appeared much happier than
she, which I supposed was the consequence of their being more useful.
However, lest I appear tedious, I will return to Miss Amelia.
Such sentiments as Mrs. Wyndham’s were not calculated to produce any
salutary effects on the mind of her child, who, though naturally active
and well-disposed, was rendered helpless, indolent, and perverse. When
little, she had not been allowed to walk out, like other children,
lest she should be tired; nor to romp with her little playfellows,
because they were too robust, and might overpower her tender frame.
Her mind, too, was neglected, because study was irksome to her. Her
natural activity had, indeed, induced her to begin many things, but
her habitual indolence had inclined her to relinquish them as soon as
any difficulty arose; so that at twelve years of age she had merely
acquired an imperfect idea of those studies and accomplishments, in
which most young ladies of the same age have made some proficiency.
Such was Amelia Wyndham, to whom Louisa Carleton was a striking
contrast. She was the eldest of a numerous family, and about six
months older than her companion. She possessed sensible parents,
who had accustomed her to habits of obedience and industry from her
infancy. She had been taught, that the best use of riches is to assist
the needy; the best use of knowledge, to instruct the ignorant; and
the best use of time, to employ it in improving her own mind, or
in benefiting her fellow-creatures. An education founded on such
principles seldom fails of success, and in the present instance it had
produced the most happy effects. Louisa was well-informed, obedient,
gentle, and humane; the admiration of all who knew her, the delight
of her parents, and her mother’s principal assistant in the domestic
economy of her family, and in her plans for relieving the poor.
I shall now return to the cottage, and inform my readers what passed
there. On the day after the two young ladies spoke to little Peggy,
Louisa Carleton came again, accompanied by her mamma: the latter
enquired into the circumstances of the family, and finding that the
poor woman had no employment but spinning, desired her to come to her
house the ensuing week, when she should be at home, and would give her
some work, which would be more profitable than her present occupation.
Mrs. Carleton then proceeded to explain the purport of her visit,
by informing Peggy’s mother, that Mrs. Wyndham intended to invite a
large party to a splendid breakfast on her daughter’s birthday, and
that Miss Amelia wished to surprise her mamma and the visitors, by
procuring a group of little girls, who were to recite some verses she
had selected for the occasion. “They are all to have new clothes given
to them,” added she: “Miss Wyndham has fixed on your little girl as one
of them, so, if you choose her to earn a new dress by this means, my
Louisa will teach her what she is to do.”
“Most willingly, Ma’am, and a thousand thanks to you,” said the poor
woman; “but Peggy cannot read, and if there be much to learn, I am
afraid Miss will find her troublesome.”
“But I will try, mother, indeed I will,” said Peggy.
“Do not be afraid,” said Louisa, “there is but little to learn, and I
have plenty of time to teach you.”
Very little more passed during this visit: the ladies took leave,
Louisa promising to come again shortly. She kept her word, and came
regularly for several days, to instruct little Peggy in her part.
Finding her very docile, she taught her to spell, and heard her read.
The child’s mother was delighted, and Miss Louisa was no less so, with
the progress of her pupil; for she hoped to surprise and please her
dear mamma, by letting Peggy read to her at some future time.
My readers may suppose, that I was not unnoticed by Miss Louisa. Peggy
displayed all my accomplishments to her young benefactress, who was
very much pleased with me, and who did not fail to expatiate on my
tameness, &c. to her friend Amelia. The latter no sooner heard that
I was something uncommon, than she wished to possess me; for Amelia
estimated the value of things from their scarcity, rather than any
other quality they possessed.