"What an unlucky boy I am!" said Edmond, running towards his papa, whom
he had been seeking over all the house and gardens. "My grandmamma has
changed her mind about going to my uncle's, and, instead of taking me
with her to spend a fortnight at his house, when I had set my heart upon
it, I must content myself at home, she says, and wait for another
opportunity. Every thing goes wrong with me--it was but last week that
the pigs got into my little garden, and destroyed every thing in it."
"Stop! stop!" interrupted his papa, "and, before you complain of your
evil destiny, recollect, that if you had not heard the pigs in your
garden, and ran in haste to drive them out of it, you would not have
seen your little brother, whom you seized by the arm on the very edge of
the pond, and who, in another moment, would probably have fallen into
it, and would have been drowned before any of the family had missed him.
It is not impossible but that you may have cause to rejoice some time
hence at what now appears to you such a mighty disappointment."
His papa's words were soon verified: for not more than ten days had
elapsed after this conversation, when they received a letter which
filled them with the severest affliction. A servant belonging to his
uncle had caught a dreadful putrid sore throat and fever, of which he
died almost immediately, and which had infected the whole family. Edmond
heard with the utmost grief, that one of his cousins was no more, and
that the other lay in so dangerous a state, that his life was despaired
of: and he did not fail to offer his unfeigned thanks to God for having
preserved him from the danger to which he would have been exposed, if
his grandmamma had not suddenly changed her intention of going to his
uncle's: he determined also, that he would never, in future, complain of
any trifling disappointments he might chance to meet with, or find
fault, as he had too often done, with the arrangements of Providence;
but conclude, that, however extraordinary many things might appear to
him, being ordered by Him who knows best what is fit for us, they must,
some way or other, sooner or later, turn to our advantage and happiness.
Edmond, in the long walks he took with his papa, often met with things
which appeared to him very strange, and which (notwithstanding the
resolution he had made, and the rule he had laid down never to find
fault) made him thoughtful, and wish to know why they were permitted.
An old man, who was universally esteemed in the village, had been
involved in perplexity and trouble, as it appeared to him, very
unjustly. He was tenant to a rich man, and had been long and
comfortably settled in a prosperous way in a little farm, which lay in a
fertile and beautiful valley belonging to his large estate.
The rich man was hard-hearted and revengeful, and, taking a dislike to
poor old Davis on some very trifling occasion, had turned him out of the
farm at so short a notice, that he had had the utmost difficulty to find
a place to take shelter in. He had a great deal of trouble in removing
his cattle and his poultry, his corn and his hay-mows, and every thing
belonging to his farm; and said he was sure it would be a couple of
years before he should be able to recover the expense and loss of time;
and Edmond, who never went into the village without paying him a visit,
and loved to chat with him and his old dame, never heard them talk of
it without thinking is was, at least, _a pity_ that he had met with so
great a misfortune.
The winter was very severe, the snow fell fast, it was deep, and lay
very long on the ground. Davis was obliged to take his cattle in from
the fields, and feed them entirely on hay; his poultry required the
utmost care and attention, and every thing in his garden was in danger
of perishing. "This is a sad winter for poor old Davis," said Edmond to
his papa; "I am afraid it will put him another year behind hand; I wish
he had not been driven from that flourishing farm in the valley."
"I wish so too," replied his papa, "if it would have been more for his
good to have remained there--but God knows best!"
The spring returned, the snow melted, torrents of water fell from the
hills--the brooks swelled, and overflowed the meadows--every thing was
inundated: the farm in the valley was entirely destroyed, and all the
cattle with which the rich man had stocked it were drowned. Davis, on
his hill, had felt the sharpness and biting frost of winter; he had
heard the wind roar, and the rain beat against his casement: but when
the snow melted, he felt no ill effects from it, but turned out his
cattle, which he had sheltered whilst it lay on the ground, to feast on
the fresh herbage which had been preserved under it.
"I perceive now," said Edmond, "that I have been once more mistaken, and
that, instead of thinking Davis an object of pity, I should look upon
him as a fortunate man. If he had remained in the valley, his whole
property would have been destroyed, and he would have been a beggar: now
he has but to be doubly attentive to his labour, and he will soon
recover the expense of his removal: he will then be just as well as he
was, and he might this day have been without a morsel of bread, or a
shilling to purchase one."