My business for the year was now finished, and I mournfully resigned
myself to my fate, expecting no release from prison, nor any amusement
in it, till the following spring, when my mind would be at least
relieved by a similar occupation. My deliverance was, however, much
nearer than I expected, for the lady who had purchased my pretty
linnet, came to enquire particularly of my master about its song, with
which she was much pleased.
“I suppose he learned it of some foreign bird,” said she, “for I never
heard any wild note like it.”
This lady was very rich, and a good customer to my master, so he
thought it best to satisfy her entirely; he therefore produced me as
the instructor of her bird, relating all he knew of my history, at
least, all that was creditable to himself. The lady admired me very
much, and offered to purchase me.
Oh! how my heart beat while I heard my master enumerating my services
to enhance my value, that he might obtain a high price for me, or deter
the lady from becoming a purchaser; for he did not like to sell me,
though he could not well refuse her the favour.
At length my anxiety was relieved by the lady’s saying: “Come, come, do
not hesitate; I will give you the price you ask, and what is more, I
will lend him or the linnet to you, for a month or two next spring, if
you wish either of them to be your singing-master.”
An offer so advantageous could not be refused; the bargain was
concluded, and I, exulting in the hope of happier days, was placed in
the carriage, and conveyed to the lady’s house.
I cannot express the joy I felt on seeing my dear little pupil the
linnet, nor describe his demonstrations of pleasure on our meeting.
Here we were, indeed, comfortable! What an alteration we found! I
almost rejoiced that we had been at the bird-fancier’s, for privation
had given a greater value even to common enjoyments: cleanliness,
comfort, and occasional liberty, were now luxuries.
Our good mistress had many other birds, to all of which, as well as to
ourselves, she was extremely indulgent; but I was particularly noticed
by her, not only for my song, but for my familiarity also, for I took
every opportunity of showing her how happy I was, and how grateful I
could be. I had, to be sure, no way of expressing my gratitude, but by
flying to meet her, perching on her shoulder or her arm; but I found
that she understood my caresses, and valued me for them.
I had been some time with this good lady, having every thing I could
desire, and regretting only that there were no children in her house,
(for I have always been extremely fond of children,) when I one day
heard her giving directions about beds and other things, that were
preparing for her two grand-children, who were coming to spend a few
weeks with her. I was greatly delighted at the prospect of again having
it in my power to observe the manners and behaviour of young persons.
Besides, I had a presentiment that my mistress’s grand-children were
well-disposed and amiable; supposing she would not otherwise be so
anxious as she appeared to be to give them pleasure. I am happy to
assure you, my young readers, that I was not at all disappointed in my
expectations, for when they came, every favourable prepossession was
realized. But, perhaps, you will like better to judge for yourselves,
so I will describe them as well as I can.
Now it is probably expected that I should mention the colour of their
hair, their eyes, and enumerate all the charms of their persons. But
as we do not contribute any thing either to our personal graces or
defects, and consequently cannot derive any merit from the former, or
disgrace from the latter, I consider those points of no importance,
therefore, shall pass them over in silence. Mary, the eldest, was
about nine years of age, her brother Henry about seven: the former, I
understood, had been some time at school: it was now her vacation. Both
of these children seemed to have been well brought up, for they were
never at a loss for employment or amusement; were never lounging about
on the chairs or sofas, or leaning listlessly against the fire-place.
But what I particularly admired in them was the affection they evinced
towards each other, and the attention they paid to every wish of their
parents, though absent from them. In short, all their conduct seemed
to proceed from some principle superior to self-gratification, or, in
other words, they sought _true_ gratification, where only it was to be
found—in the performance of their duty.
As I was naturally fond of all children, it is easy to imagine that
I became particularly attached to these, amiable as they were. I do
not, however, mean to represent them to my young readers as models of
perfection, for such would be as far beyond their imitation as they are
from resembling nature. I have observed that all children have their
faults; but those who are most patient of reproof, and most open to
conviction, are also most likely to amend their trivial failings; for
great defects such cannot have. Henry and Mary were certainly every
thing their parents could wish, and their sensible grand-mamma was
greatly delighted with them, yet she never extolled them when present:
a single word of approbation, or an affectionate smile, repaid all
their endeavours to please her. And, indeed, so sweet was her smile,
so judicious her approbation, that the dear children seemed to desire
nothing more.
Though my good mistress did not indulge her young visitors in an
unlimited manner, or teach them to be selfish by making their
recreations the price of their good behaviour, yet she found means to
amuse and improve them at the same time, by taking them to museums,
manufactories, &c. where they saw a profusion of the works of nature
and art. These morning excursions furnished subjects for conversation
in the evening, which, with a magic-lantern, representing some of the
most remarkable occurrences in history, a geographical game, and other
similar recreations, filled up their time so agreeably, that the hour
of rest always seemed to arrive too early; yet they did not on that
account repine or loiter when the maid came for them, but went off
immediately and cheerfully.
In this manner three weeks elapsed. I grew very fond of these
interesting children, and they were no less so of me: all the family
had been so cheerful since they came, that I anticipated their
departure with great regret. One day, when Henry and his sister had
accompanied their grand-mamma to a menagerie, where they had seen a
fine collection of birds, the former said, on his return: “Well, dear
grand-mamma, of all the birds I have seen to-day, not one pleased me so
well as your little Robin. Some of them, to be sure, were beautiful,
but they had not that docility and tameness which I admire in him.”
“The difference, my dear boy,” replied my mistress, “proceeds from
education. You may observe that children who are well brought up,
are generally docile and intelligent, while those who are neglected
or spoiled, are usually destitute of those amiable qualities. But,”
continued she, “my dear Henry, I think you seem to respect the old
tutor, so I will make you a present of him; and may you, my dear boy,
improve your talents for the benefit of your fellow-creatures, as he
has done.”
I felt much gratified by this encomium, and I could perceive that Henry
was no less delighted with the thought of possessing me, though he
modestly declined the offer, saying, he did not like to deprive his
grand-mamma of her favourite, and observing, that, perhaps, his sister
might like to have me.
“Your sister,” said my mistress, “shall have her choice among my
Canary-birds, but you, Henry, shall have the Robin: you shall keep him
for my sake. Come, Mary, my love,” continued she, “and choose your
bird.”
Mary had been present during the whole of this conversation, her
countenance expressing the greatest pleasure at her brother’s
acquisition, and beaming with tenderness when he offered to resign it
to her. She had not spoken, but all she felt was fully expressed in
her mild and ingenuous features. Now summoned by her grand-mamma, she
said: “Indeed, Ma’am, I should like a Canary-bird very much; so much
that I could not bear any one to feed or attend it but myself, and as
I am mostly at school, I could not do that; so I think I am better
without one. You know I have the little pug you gave me last Midsummer.
Henry feeds him while I am away, yet, whenever I return home, he knows
me again and loves me as well as ever: but birds are not so sagacious.”
“Your reasons are so good, my dear,” said my mistress, “that I feel
as much pleased as if you had accepted my offer; and that is saying a
great deal, for I have real pleasure in bestowing my little pets on
good children.”
The entrance of a servant with letters, here interrupted the
conversation. One of these was from Henry’s papa, requesting that his
little ones might be sent home early in the ensuing week, as Mary’s
vacation had nearly expired, and an elder brother of Henry’s was
expected from college, whose instructions were likely to be useful to
the little boy.
Nothing material occurred before the day of separation. Great regret
was evinced, both on the part of the children and that of their dear
grand-mamma; but her promise to visit them the following summer, and
the prospect of meeting their parents, soon consoled the former, and
they set out for their paternal dwelling, about twenty miles distant,
taking me with them.