• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Frontispiece
 Table of Contents
 Ellen
 Charles
 Frederick Harding
 George
 The naughty girl
 Tom Morrison
 The balloon
 Turn-About Johnny
 Nine-pins
 Industrious Maria
 Jane Primrose
 Little Laura
 Eleanor Wilmot
 Miss Cecil
 The Good Grandson
 Emily Haywood
 Caroline
 The return from Waterloo
 Politeness
 The Danger of Swinging
 Good little Mary
 Noisy Cecilia
 Curiosity
 The unsettled boy
 Cecilia and Fanny
 Henry
 Maria; or, the little Slattern
 Frederick's holidays
 The vain girl
 The whimsical child
 Edward and Charles
 The Truant
 Jealousy
 Edmond
 The inundation
 The naughty boy punished
 The good boy rewarded
 The pincushions
 The reward of benevolence
 Advertising






Title: Short tales
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Title: Short tales
Series Title: Short tales
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Creator: Truelove,
Publisher: Grant and Griffith
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Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Frontispiece
        Frontispiece
    Table of Contents
        Page iii
        Page iv
    Ellen
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
    Charles
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 6a
    Frederick Harding
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
    George
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
    The naughty girl
        Page 14
        Page 14a
        Page 15
        Page 16
    Tom Morrison
        Page 16a
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
    The balloon
        Page 20a
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 24a
    Turn-About Johnny
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
    Nine-pins
        Page i
        Page ii
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
    Industrious Maria
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
    Jane Primrose
        Page 36
        Page 36a
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
    Little Laura
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
    Eleanor Wilmot
        Page 44
        Page 44a
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 46a
    Miss Cecil
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
    The Good Grandson
        Page 50
        Page 50a
        Page 51
        Page 52
    Emily Haywood
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
    Caroline
        Page 56
        Page 57
    The return from Waterloo
        Page 58
        Page 58a
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
    Politeness
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
    The Danger of Swinging
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
    Good little Mary
        Page 68
        Page 68a
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
    Noisy Cecilia
        Page 72
        Page 72a
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 74a
    Curiosity
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
    The unsettled boy
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
    Cecilia and Fanny
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
    Henry
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
    Maria; or, the little Slattern
        Page 116
        Page 116a
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
    Frederick's holidays
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
    The vain girl
        Page 136
        Page 136a
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
    The whimsical child
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
    Edward and Charles
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
    The Truant
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
    Jealousy
        Page 176
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 181
        Page 182
    Edmond
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
        Page 186
        Page 187
        Page 188
        Page 189
        Page 190
        Page 190a
    The inundation
        Page 191
        Page 192
        Page 193
        Page 194
        Page 195
        Page 196
        Page 197
        Page 198
        Page 199
        Page 200
        Page 201
        Page 202
        Page 203
        Page 204
        Page 205
        Page 206
        Page 207
        Page 208
        Page 209
        Page 210
        Page 211
        Page 212
        Page 213
        Page 214
        Page 215
        Page 216
        Page 216a
    The naughty boy punished
        Page 217
        Page 218
        Page 219
        Page 220
        Page 221
        Page 222
        Page 223
        Page 224
        Page 225
        Page 226
        Page 226a
    The good boy rewarded
        Page 227
        Page 228
        Page 229
        Page 230
        Page 231
        Page 232
        Page 233
        Page 234
        Page 235
    The pincushions
        Page 236
        Page 236a
        Page 237
        Page 238
        Page 239
        Page 240
        Page 241
        Page 242
        Page 243
        Page 244
        Page 245
        Page 246
        Page 247
        Page 248
        Page 249
        Page 250
        Page 251
        Page 252
        Page 253
        Page 254
    The reward of benevolence
        Page 255
        Page 256
        Page 257
        Page 258
        Page 259
        Page 260
        Page 261
        Page 262
        Page 263
        Page 264
        Page 265
        Page 266
        Page 267
        Page 268
    Advertising
        Page 269
        Page 270
        Page 271
        Page 272
        Page 273
        Page 274
        Page 275
        Page 276
        Page 277
        Page 278
        Page 279
        Page 280
        Page 281
        Page 282
        Page 283
        Page 284
        Page 285
        Page 286
Full Text










CONTENTS.





. ................................................... ............. 1
CHARL M ............................................................... 4
G ............................................................... 7
FaR RCK HARDING ............................................. 11
THE NAUGHTY G L ................................................ 14
TOM MoB IsoN ....... ............................... .... ... 17
THB BALooN ................ ....... ........................ 21
N nr B PIs ....................................................... 2.
ToU~ ABOUT JOHNNY ............................................. 29
INDo usB ous MA IA ............................................... 3
JAlN PRB ao ........................................ ......... 36
I TL E LAURA ..................................... .......... 41
EL ANOR WILM ............................................ ... 44
MMs CEoIL........................................................... 47
THm GOOD G NDa N ........................................ .. 50
Em Y H WOOD ................................................... 3
CAnoun ............................................. .......... 6
Tan RITrvN eROM W ATEB )O ......................... .... 8




II


iv CONTENTS.
Pae
PoF T ae ............................................................ 62
Tm DANGER OF SWINOGNG....................................... 6
GOOD I a MARY ................................................ 68
NomY CEm ...................................................... 72
Cumosrr .......................................................... 75
THE UNBETTLED BOY ............................................ 86
C CILIA AND FANNY............................................... 97
HENRY ............................................................... 109
MARIA; OR, THE LITLE SLATERN ........................... 116
FaR DERICK'S HOLDAYS ......................................... 127
THE VAIN GIRL .................................................. 136
THE WHImm L CHILD .......................................... 146
EDWARD AND CHARLES ........................................ 1
THE TRUA T......................................................... 166
JEALOUBY ............................................................ 176
EDMOND ............................................................... 183
THm INUNDATION ................................................... 191
THE NAUGHTY BOY PUN wED ............................... 217
THE GOOD BOY REWARDED......................................
THE PImcusmHI S .................................................. 23
THE REWARD OF BmEVOLNCE .............................. 66









TRUELOVE'S TALES.


ELLEN.

WHEN little Ellen asked her maid
why the dog looked at her; instead of
telling her the truth, which was, that he
hoped she would give him something
to eat, she said he was watching her
to see whether she would be a good
child all day, or a naughty one. Ellen
desired to know what he would do to
punish her, if she were naughty; and
B




ELLEN.


Mary told her that he would tear her
frock and scratch her-nay, perhaps,
bite her.
Poor Ellen was very much frightened,
because she believed all that her maid
told her, not once supposing she would
be guilty of a falsehood; and was very
much surprised when, as she was sitting,
the next morning, very quietly on the
sofa by her Mamma's side, learning
her lesson, Pompey, being let into the
room, put his two paws upon her lap,
tore her muslin frock, and scratched her
arm.-I must here beg my little reader
not to be angry with Pompey; he was
a very good-natured dog, and had no
intention to hurt Ellen; but as she was
always feeding him, he had learned to




nLLEN.


be very troublesome; and if she did
not take notice of him when he came
near her, he made no ceremony of put-
ting her in mind of him in some way or
other.
When the little girl felt the smart of
the scratch on her arm, she surprised
her Mamma, by assuring her, with tears
in her eyes, that she had not done any
thing naughty the whole day. But when
Mamma was told how Mary had deceived
her child, she was very angry indeed,
and would have sent her away, if Ellen
had not begged her Mamma to pardon
her, upon her promising never again to
utter a word, but what was strictly true,
but to teach her young lady to know,
that it was God who always watched




CHARLES.


over her, and would reward her if she
were a good child, or punish her if she
were naughty.


CHARLES.

CHARLES was a fine boy of four years
of age; his cheeks were like two red
apples, for he spent great part of the
day in the garden, running about and
rolling on the grass; that is, from seven
o'clock in the morning till twelve, at
which time his Grandpapa was ready
to receive him, and not sooner. The mo-
ment the clock struck that hour, away
he ran and bounced into the room, where
he knew he was always welcome; and




cHAOLS.


the old gentleman, calling him to sit
upon his knee, usually asked what he
had been doing, and whether he had
learned his lesson. Charles was not very
fond of his book; and his Grandpapa
often told him that if he did not learn
to read, when he grew up he would be
called Sir Charles Dunce, and all the
boys in the town would laugh at him:
but he did not mind it much; he only
kissed his Grandpapa, and said he would
learn his lesson when he could find time.
One day, he entered the room, saying
he was very unhappy indeed; and, taking
his seat upon his Grandpapa's knee, told
him that little Johnny Gibson had got
a jacket and trousers, whilst he was
kept like a girl, in petticoats; and that




OHARBL8.


he thought it was very hard upon him,
"a great boy as I am," said he, "more
than four years old! There is my sister
Maria always calling me, Miss Charley-
a little thing like her, no bigger than my
thumb !"
"Indeed, Charles, it is a very sad
thing," said his Grandpapa, "but I must
tell you that it is your own fault; John
Gibson can read little Tales and Dia-
logues, in words of one syllable, and has
had his jacket and trousers as a reward
for his attention to his learning, whilst
you are so idle that you scarcely know
your letters ; you must therefore content
yourself with your petticoats for some
time longer."
Charles was much ashamed, and hung







FREDERICK HARDING.

FREDERICK HARDING was a very naughty
boy, for he was a great tell-tale, and
moreover, did not always speak truth, so
that nobody liked him; and when his
brothers and sisters were asked to go out,
he was always kept at home because his
Papa and Mamma were ashamed of him,
and afraid he would do or say something
he ought not to do, if he were out of their
sight or hearing.
One day, he got into the stable, and
finding his brother's pony ready saddled,
got upon it, and galloped away a mile
or two, till passing near a cottage, where
he saw an old woman, he got off, fast-




FREDERICK HARDING.


ened the pony to a gate, and going up
to her, told her there were two or three
boys in the orchard behind the cottage
stealing her apples. He thought it
would be fine fun to frighten the old
woman and make her run out to save
her apples, and still better if, in her
haste, she were to fall down; he did not
consider that the poor old creature might
break a leg or an arm, and he was so
naughty that he would not have been
sorry if she had.
He was, however, much disappointed;
for she was so very deaf, that although
he put his mouth close to her ear, and
bawled so loud that one would have
thought he might be heard half a mile
off, he could not make her hear a




FLEDERIOK HARDING.


single word. He was very much vexed
at having had his trouble for nothing,
he said, so he would ride back, and see
what fun he could have at home; but
when he came to the gate, he found the
pony had taken a fancy to go home
before him, and having got the bridle
off from the gate, had trotted away,
whilst the young gentleman was telling
falsehoods to Goody Dobson. He was
therefore obliged to walk back; and it
began to rain very hard, so that he was
soon wet to the skin; and being very
warm with walking, he caught a bad
cold and a fever, which confined him to
his bed, and it was nearly three months
before he got his health and strength
restored to him.




GBOBR


down his head for some minutes, but
from that time he learned his lesson
every day, and never went to run in the
garden till he had done it: so that in a
few months he had the pleasure of seeing
himself dressed in a jacket and trousers,
and equal in all respects to John Gibson
and every other boy of his age.




GEORGE.

"PPAY tell me," said George B. to
his Papa, "why that man keeps his poor
dog tied fast with a cord.-I dare say,
he would like better to run about in the
lanes and fields. I am sure I should like




GBOBIE.


it better: do you not think I should,
Papa ?"
"I am very certain you would," re-
plied his Papa: "but you mistake the
matter; that poor man is blind, and if
he had not that little dog to lead him
about in the right path, he would fall
into the first ditch or pit that came in
his way, and be killed.
"I know the man very well; he was
not always so poor as he now is, and he
could once see very well, and his dog ran
by his side whenever he went out; and
if he went into a house, he laid himself
quietly down at the door till his master
came out again, and then up he jumped,
wagging his tail and looking so pleased,
and away they trotted together, as happy




GEOBGE.


and contented as could be. At breakfast
and dinner, he was sure to be close to
the man's chair, who was so fond of him
that he always gave him part of what
he had to eat, and put a pan of nice
clear water, every morning, in a corner
of his room, for him to drink; but at
length he grew very ill and could not
work, and he was obliged to sell his
clothes and his bed, to buy meat for
himself and his dog; and then his eyes
were bad, and they became worse and
worse; and in a short time he was
quite blind, and was forced to beg his
bread from house to house.
"Now, my dear George, he could not
even do that if he had not his dog to
lead him about; and you may also see




GEORGE.


that the little animal is not tired of
walking slowly with his old master, but
creeps along just as he feels the cord,
because he loves the man who has
always been kind to him, fed him
well, and never beat him, nor pinched
his tail and pulled his ears to make
him angry, as naughty boys often do to
their dogs."
George was much pleased with what
his Papa had told him, and begged leave
to give his new sixpence to the man, that
he might buy some dinner for himself
and his kind little dog.






THE NAUGHTY GIRL.

MRS. MORRIs had desired her little
girl at least ten times to make haste
and drink her tea, but she did not mind
her: she did nothing but play silly
tricks, sometimes stirring it as fast as
she could, to make a bit of tea-leaf turn
round in the cup, then pouring it into
the saucer, and putting small bits of
crust to swim in it, calling them her
boats and ships.
A fly on the table was the next foolish
thing to play with; she must put a bit
of sugar near, she said, that it might
eat it; and when she had made it fly
away, she wished to wait till another
came to eat the sugar.




THE NAUGHTY GIRL.


Her Mamma called her naughty dis-
obedient child; but she did not hurry
herself a bit more, till Mrs. Morris went
out of the room, and returned with her
bonnet and shawl on, saying that she
had intended to take her to see some
beautiful gardens, and to eat some fruit;
but as she had been so naughty, she
must stay at home: then she began to
drink her tea so fast, that she almost
choked herself, and crammed the bread
and butter into her mouth in such a
manner, that the servant, who was wait-
ing, could not help laughing when he
looked at her. But all her haste was of
no use; Mrs. Morris told her that her
Grandmamma's carriage was at the door,
that she had been so good as to say she




THE NAUGHTY GIRL.


would call for them, and she would not
keep her waiting a moment; so away
went Mamma, and there sat Miss Char-
lotte, the tea spilled all over her frock,
her mouth and cheeks daubed with bread
and butter, and tears streaming from her
eyes. And though she screamed as loud
as she could, to let her Mamma know
she had done, and that she was very
sorry that she had been so naughty,
it was too late; her Mamma was too far
off to hear her, and the young lady
was glad to hide herself up stairs that
the servants might not see and laugh
at her.








TOM MORRISON.

TOM MO~RISON was one of the best
boys in the world. His father was but a
poor man, who got his bread by work-
ing in the gardens of the gentlemen liv-
ing in the neighbourhood; and his mo-
ther gained a little money by spinning
and knitting. Tom always went to work
with his father, to help him in the gar-
dens, and wheeled away the weeds and
litter in a little wheel-barrow, which his
father had made for him; so he was
obliged to go and return a great many
times; however, he was not an idle boy,
and was always happy when he could
help his father, though ever so little:
C




TOM MOBBISON.


and he did nothing but whistle and sing
all the time, that the men who were at
work might see that he was willing and
glad to be employed.
He had a brother and sister, much
younger than himself; and he was so
kind to them, that they loved him dearly,
and were always longing for evening, in
the winter, when Tom would come home
and sit down between them by the fire-
side, and tell them little stories, or sing
songs to them.
Their mother being ill, and not able to
go to market, she was, one day, obliged
to send Tom to the next town, to buy a
bit of meat to make broth, some tea, and
other things which she wanted. "Oh
dear !" cried little Mary, "what a long




TOM MORRISON.


way off it is! Tom will never come
back !"-Edward then began to cry, "0
dear! Tom will be lost! Tom will be
lost !" And their mother had enough
to do to quiet them, by telling them it
was only two miles, and their brother
would return before dinner time. So he
took up his basket, and walked away, the
two children promising to be very good.
And so they were, but they could not
be happy without their brother: so as
the time drew near when they expected
him to return, they went out into the
road, and seated themselves there, that
they might see him a few minutes sooner.
Upon every noise they heard, they said,
"Here comes Tom !"-But it was some-
times a sheep, sometimes a cow, and they




TOM MORBISON.


were often disappointed; at length, they
heard him singing, and in an instant he
was close to them, when taking a nice
cake out of his basket, he held it out to
them, telling them that he had one
for each.
Mary and Edward were very glad of
the cakes; but they were better pleased
to see their brother, and they went home
as happy as could be. And they were
always happy, for they were good, never
quarrelled, as some children do, nor dis-
obeyed their parents, but did as they
were ordered, and were kind and civil to
everybody.







THE BALLOON.

"0 HARRY! Harry! pray come here,"
cried Harriet G. to her brother, who
was gathering wild flowers at a little
distance to make a nosegay for her:
"do pray come, and tell me what that
great thing is which I see in the sky."
Harry ran directly to see the strange
sight; but he laughed as he ran towards
her, because he thought it could be no-
thing but a cloud. He had often seen
clouds very oddly shaped, sometimes like
little boys and girls, sometimes like trees
and houses: for he was a very clever lit-
tle boy, observed everything, and liked
to be told the meaning of what he saw.





THE BALLOON.


With all his cleverness, however, Mas-
ter Harry was very much surprised when
his sister pointed out a great round
thing mounting in the air, with some-
thing hanging at the lower part of it,
just like their Papa's boat, which was
kept in the boat-house near the river.
"What can it be, Harriet said he:
"It makes me think of a picture in one
of my little books, where there is a
great monstrous bird flying away with
a poor lamb.-But look look !-there
are two men in that thing like a boat-
0 dear !--and flags !"
"I am frightened," said little Harriet,
getting close to her brother, who was
two years older than herself.-" Sup-
pose it were to fall down upon us, boat,




THE BALLOON.


and men, and all; we should be killed,
Harry !-But here comes old Giles: per-
haps he can tell us what sort of creature
it is which is flying away with the two
poor men.
They went up to Giles directly; but
he could only tell them that the strange
thing was called a Balloon, and that the
men in the boat were two very clever
gentlemen, who had found out the way
to make the Balloon go up to the clouds,
and even to pass through them. How
it is done," added he-" I am but a poor
labourer, and, as you may suppose, not
learned enough to be able to tell you;
nor would you perhaps understand me
if I could: but your Papa will explain it
to you when you are older. All that I




THE BALLOON.


can say is, that if my father had had
money to put me to school, I do not
think it would have been thrown away,
for I dearly love books, Master Harry,
but, alack-a-day! I have no time for
reading.
"I have no doubt but that the two
gentlemen whom you see with the Bal-
loon, when they were little boys, spent
the greatest part of their time in learn-
ing their lessons, and reading such books
as were given to them; and so they got
on from little books to large books, till
they grew up to be young men, and
then they found out this wonderful way
of paying a visit to the clouds. Who
knows, Master Harry, if you are not an
idle young gentleman, but mind your




TUB-ABOUT JOHNNY.


done whilst William, held fast by. a man
servant, was made to look on, till they
were all burned.



TURN-ABOUT JOHNNY.

IT was a happy day at * * for all
the children, when Turn-about Johnny
was seen coming down the hill into the
village.-I should not say al the chil-
dren, for there were some among them
who had not one poor halfpenny to lay
out, and these poor things could only
look at his basket, admire his painted
Harlequins and Turn-abouts, his Whips,
penny Horses, Tin Soldiers, and pretty




TURN-ABOUT JOHNNY.


Pictures; and when they had looked
till they were tired or were pushed
away by some rude boy or girl who had
a halfpenny or a penny-piece to spend,
whoever happened to be present might
see by their behaviour what kind of
children they were. Some cried and
roared, that they might have been heard
half a mile off, rubbing their eyes with
their dirty hands, till their faces were
full as dirty; others did not choose to
be pushed away, but fought with those
who pushed them: but the good chil-
dren knew that if their parents had had
a halfpenny to spare, they should have
been able to buy a toy as well as the
others; and if they were too poor, it
would be wrong in them to desire it.





TURN-ABOUT JOHNNY.


A good old gentleman happened to
be walking through the village, watched
the behaviour of the children who sur-
rounded Johnny's basket: after some
time, he observed a quiet little boy and
girl, who were looking with longing eyes
at all the pretty things, but bought no-
thing, whilst the others were showing
them how many they had bought and
were going to carry home: at length, a
rude boy, giving each a blow on the
back, pushed them away from the basket,
and the poor little creatures with tears
in their eyes were creeping slowly to-
wards home, when the gentleman asked
them why they were going away without
buying a toy ?
The gentleman was soon told the




TURN-ABOUT JOHNNY.


reason; but they begged he would not
think they were crying about the toys,
for they knew very well that their mo-
ther had no money to spare; she wanted
all she could get to buy bread for them;
but they could not help crying because
the boy had hurt them.
The old gentleman was so pleased
with these little children, that. he led
them one in each hand back to Turn-
about Johnny, and bought as many
toys for them as they could carry home,
whither he went with them to see their
mother, gave her some money to buy
meat, and was kind to them always from
that day.






SHORT


TALES:


WRITTEN FOR CHILDREN.

BY

DAME TRUELOVE AND HER FRIENDS.


Sllustrateb bnitb btntp (ngiabins.



NEW EDITION.



LONDON:
GRANT AND GRIFFITH,
SUOmoCCO TO
J. HARRIS, CORNER OF ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD.


*1
















































LONDON:
Psted bY S. & J. SNXTLET and HRUIR PLET,
Hmaar House, Shoe Lase.




NINE-PINS.


lessons rather than spend all your time
in play-who knows, I say, what wonder-
ful things you may one day find out.
Harry was much delighted at the
thought of being a man of learning;
and as the Balloon was now out of sight.
he ran home, to ask his Papa a dozen
or two of questions; and little Harriet
was glad the great creature was gone,
for she could not help being afraid that
it would fall upon her head.




NINE-PINS.

"PRAY, nurse," asked Mrs. Maynard,
"where are the children ?"




NINE-PINB.


NUR8E.

"They are playing very quietly with
Master William's Nine-pins, Madam; I
shall go for them, by and by, to take a
walk-we shall go as far as the village.
That dear little Miss Mary, though she
is only four years old, has wrapped up
her old shoes in a paper, as neatly as I
could have done it, and is going to take
them to Fanny, for her little girl. You
cannot think, Ma'am, how happy she is
that you gave her leave to do so. And
Miss Frances, who likes to do as her
sister does, has got her gift ready.-The
dear creature wanted to carry her coral
necklace to Fanny! However, we have




NIIs-PINB.


found two old night-caps, of which she
has also made up her little parcel."

MRS. MAYNARD.

"I am very happy to hear that my
children are so good; but I am much
afraid, if William comes home and finds
them at play with his Nine-pins, there
will be sad work. I wish he were as
good as his sisters! But he is so pas-
sionate, and so cross to them and to the
servants, always speaking in such a rude
manner to every one, that I am quite
vexed to perceive it. But we must find
some way or other to break him of these
naughty tricks."
A violent scream from the girls made




NINE-PnS.


their Mamma and nurse judge that the
rude boy had arrived; and they hurried
towards the spot where they were at
play, fearing he might hurt them. And
it was well they did so; for he was in
such a rage at their having dared, he said,
to touch his toys, that he was beginning
to beat them with the Nine-pins, and
would have hurt them very much indeed
if he had not been prevented.
Mrs. Maynard put all the Nine-pins
into a basket, and then took William
into the kitchen, where the cook was
preparing a large fire to roast a piece
of beef. She then directed her to put
all the pretty painted Nine-pins, one by
one, between the bars of the grate, and
the two balls on the top; and this was







INDUSTRIOUS MARIA.

MARIA was very fond of needle-work;
she was but a very little girl, yet she
could sew and hem better than many
who were much older; and she liked to
do such work as would be of use, and
not to snip up and mangle every bit of
muslin or silk that was given to her.
Maria had more sense; she knew that
it was wrong to waste any thing; and
if she had a bit of silk in her basket,
it was ten chances to one but that it
would be enough to make a pincushion
at least, which some one or other would
be glad to have. She very often wished
she could work well enough to make




INDUSTRIOUS MARIA.


clothes for poor children; and her
Mamma told her, that, if she continued
to improve, she might do any kind of
work in another year, and that she
should have some old cloth and make
baby-linen. "Indeed, Maria," said her
Mamma, "I think you work well enough
now to make a little shirt, if I pin it
for you; it is almost all hemming and
sewing."
"Dear, dear Mamma," said the little
girl, "how glad I should be to make a
baby's shirt If you will but show me
how to do it, I will try as much as ever
I can to do it well."
The little shirt was cut out, and Ma-
ria, with her table before her, her scis-
sors, her pincushion, and all things in





INDUSTRIOUS MARIA.


order, went to work, as happy as a queen
-happier than many little girls who
have had sweetmeats and playthings
given to them.
The shirt was made in a few days,
and, what is more, very neatly made,
for such a child. As soon as it was
done, it was given to Sarah, to wash and
iron it very nicely; and then it was
pinned up in a paper, and Maria and
her Mamma walked to the cottage of a
poor woman, who she knew would be
glad to have it. Maria told her, that
she did not think she could work well
enough yet to make a cap, but she hoped
in a short time to be able to bring one
for her baby.
The first thing she did was to make




JANE PRIMROSE.


a large bag, which she called her baby's
bag, and in that she put every bit of
cloth, muslin, flannel, &c., which might
be useful; and she often begged ladies
who came to the house, to give her some
old linen to put into her bag; so that
when she went to work, she had always
plenty of cloth; and as she was never
tired of her needle, she gave so much
baby-linen to the poor of the village,
that they loved her, and prayed for bless-
ings upon her, as long as they lived.



JANE PRIMROSE.
JANE PRIMROSE had the care of her
mother's poultry; she was not a very





JANE PRIMROSE.


poor woman, so she told her little girl
she should have all the money the eggs
sold for, to buy her a new frock and a
straw bonnet in the summer; and de-
sired her to be very careful of them,
and give plenty of meat to her hens;
and to be sure to put all the poultry
into the hen-house at night, and fasten
the door, that she might find them safe
in the morning."
"The care of- these pretty little crea-
tures will be a very good thing for you,
Jane," added her mother; "for I think
you are rather lazy in the morning, and
do not much like to get up; though
when the sun shines in at the casement
and through the curtains of your bed,
I think it is a shame for you to lie there,




JANE PRIMROSE.


sleeping and wasting your time; I call
it wasting time, when any one sleeps
longer than needful; besides, my dear,
early rising is good for the health; and
a little girl, who lives in a farm-house,
and hears the plough-boys and the milk-
maids moving at five o'clock, may surely
rise at six in summer and seven in win-
ter."
"But why must I rise early for the
cocks and hens?" Jane asked. "I am
so sleepy in the morning, that I cannot
open my eyes."-" It must be done, my
dear," replied her mother, "or you must
give up the care of them to your bro-
ther; for as they go to roost at sun-
set, they like to be let out at the first




JANE PRIMROSE.


peep of day-light, that they may enjoy
the fresh air, and search about the barn-
door for something to eat. After a few
mornings, you will awake without being
called, and your cheeks will be as rosy
as Dorothy's, the milk-maid."
Jane was a good child, and followed
her mother's advice; she jumped up
the moment she was called, though her
eyes were scarcely open; but before the
end of the week, she awoke without
being called, and went down to open
the door of the hen-house; then she
was so amused, that she would not have
suffered any other person to let the
poultry out on any account : each tried
to get first; some flew over her head.




JANE PRIMROSE.


some over her shoulders; and there was
so much noise and bustle among them,
that Jane was quite delighted.
Every thing went on well; and when
the summer came, she had so many
shillings and sixpences in her little bag,
that she could scarcely believe her own
eyes: for she had never seen so much
money at one time: but this good little
girl, instead of thinking of herself, and
her new frock and bonnet, carried her
bag to her mother, and when she put
it into her hand, begged she would buy
a gown for herself, as her Sunday frock
and bonnet were still good, and would
do very well some time longer.
Jane lost nothing by her good-nature;
for her mother bought her the things





LITTLE LAURA.


she had promised, and moreover two
pretty white hens to add to her stock.



LITTLE LAURA.

THERE was once a little girl, who
lived with her mother, in a house by
the road-side; it was a very pretty
house, and had a flower-garden be-
fore it, with an apple-orchard on one
side, and a poultry-yard and a dairy on
the other. This little girl was called
Laura; and she was a very good child,
obedient to her parents, and good-na-
tured and kind to her neighbours and
acquaintances, so that every body loved
and were glad to see her at their houses;




LITTLE LAURA.


but where she spent the most of her
time was at the house of an old lady,
who had taken a great liking to her,
because she behaved so properly at
church, where, instead of gaping round,
and standing on tip-toe, to peep into
the pews, as many children do, without
thinking of the place they are in, she
minded nothing but the clergyman; and
as she had been taught to know when
to kneel and when to stand up, she
never neglected to do so at the proper
times. She often went to breakfast with
this old lady, and spent the whole day
with her; and there was a pretty little
summer-house in the garden, and she
had it nicely furnished with a little table
and two or three green chairs, and a




LITTLE LAURA.


green blind to shade it from the sun;
and it was called Laura's own parlour;
and Mr. and Mrs. Martin (that was the
lady's name) ordered her tea-table to be
taken into the summer-house, one fine
afternoon, and told Laura she intended
to drink tea with her; so Laura was
mistress of the tea-table that day, and
poured out the tea, and helped her friend
to some cake, and bread and butter, and
was as happy as a queen.
In the winter, she had a scarlet cloak
and bonnet, which made her look some-
thing like little Red Riding-Hood, and
she went to see Mrs. Martin almost
every day; for though she could not
be so well amused as in summer, she
never neglected her good friend, who




44 ELEANOR WILMOT.
was so kind to her; and if she happened
to be unwell, she either stayed with her
to sit by her side, and ring her bell
when she wanted any thing, or went
two or three times a day to know if
she were better.
Thus the little Laura was the happiest
child in the world; and all children may
be happy, if they follow her example.



ELEANOR WILMOT.

ELEANOR WILMOT had a brother, four
years older than herself; she was very
fond of him, and when his uncle, who
was master of a trading vessel, said he
would take him to sea with him, she




ELEAdNOR WILMOT.


cried so much that her mother was
afraid she would be ill; but when they
told her that it would be for his advan-
tage, and that he might one day have
a ship of his own, as his uncle had, al-
though she was just as unwilling to part
with him as she had before been, she
thought it would be better to hide her
sorrow from her brother, that he might
not think she was grieving at what was
so much for his good; so, on the day
he went away, she tried to smile, though
her eyes were full of tears, and bade him
take care of himself, and make haste to
return.
As soon as he was gone on board, and
the ship had sailed to some distance,
Eleanor took her dear brother's dog




ELEANOR WILMOT.


with her, and went down to the beach,
and there she sat down on the pebbles,
crying sadly, and saying to the dog,
who was by her side, "Poor William is
gone to sea; I will pray to God to watch
over him and take care of him upon the
sea, as he has done upon the land, and
I hope he will soon return to us again."
Trimbush did not know what she was
saying, but he wagged his tail when
she spoke and looked at the ship, for
he had seen his master go into it, and
would have been glad to go with him,
if they would have let him.
After some months, William came
home; and he brought so many pretty
shells and beautiful birds to his sister,
that she was quite delighted; and he




MISS CECIL.


looked so well, and appeared so happy,
that she thought it would be wrong to
grieve when he went again, particularly
as he was never long away at a time;
and she and Trimbush, whenever the
ship was expected, spent half the day
on the beach, hoping to see it come
round the Point, that she might be the
first to run and tell her father and
mother the joyful news.



MISS CECIL.
Miss CECIL lived in London, and
hardly ever saw any thing but streets
and houses; so when she went to spend
a month in the country with some friends




MISS CECIL.


of her Papa's, she did nothing but run
about, calling upon every one to look at
this beautiful tree, and that sweet pretty
shrub. This town lady did not know
that these were not new sights to them,
though they were to her; indeed, all
was new to her, and she was so pleased
that she scarcely gave herself time to
eat.
One day, she rambled so far, that she
hardly knew where she was; at length
she got through some bushes, and found
herself upon a hill, and under the hill
was a small river, and a pretty bridge:
Miss Cecil had a great mind to go over
to the other side, because she saw two or
three white houses, and she wished to
know who lived in them.


48'




MISS CECIL.


Away she went down the hill, and
over the bridge in a minute; and then
she walked up to the first cottage in
the road. The window was open, and
she peeped into it; but who can guess
what she saw ?-a little girl, not more
than eight years old, teaching her bro-
thers and sisters to read and spell!
Miss Cecil thought this the prettiest
sight she had yet seen, and gave the
young school-mistress a bright new
half-crown piece; and when she went
home, she told the lady of the house
what she had seen; and she was so
pleased to hear of this good little girl,
that, the next morning, she desired
Miss Cecil to show her the way to the
white house over the bridge, and went




THE GOOD GBUNDSON.


down to it with all the company she
had in the house. Every one gave
something to the little school-mistress,
and she had so much money, that her
mother bought new clothes for her and
her sisters and brothers, which they
very much wanted; and Miss Cecil was
very happy that in her rambles about
the country she had been able to do
good to a little girl, who appeared so
well to deserve it.



THE GOOD GRANDSON.
HEBE comes a jolly tar! But not Elea-
nor Wilmot's brother William, though
he is just as good a boy, and as happy




THE GOOD GRANDSON.


as he is, when he comes home from
sea, and finds all his friends well, and
his little brothers and sisters smiling
and pleased to see him. One climbs
upon his knee, another behind his chair,
and another seizes on his hands.
This jolly tar brought presents to
them all, and they would have kept
him the whole day thanking him for the
pretty things; but he got away from
them as soon as he could, to run and
see his poor old Grandmother, who had
nursed and watched by him when he
was a sickly child; and he never forgot
her kindness. He ran into the house,
where he found her sitting in her elbow
chair by the fire, and emptied his pockets
upon the table near her.




THE GOOD GRANDSON.


"Here is a warm shawl for you, my
dear Grandmother," said he, putting
one on her shoulders; "it will make you
comfortable this winter: and here is a
pair of gloves, to wear when you go to
church; put your hand into one of
them,-they are lined with skin, and will
keep your fingers warm: and these
shoes, which are also lined with fur,
will warm your feet. And I hope you
like my little presents; I should be a
very bad boy if I had not thought of
you, for you were kind to me when I
could not help myself; you have lost
many a night's sleep, sitting by my little
bed when I was ill!- No, my dear
Grandmother, I will never forget you !"
The good old woman was so delighted





EMILY HAYWOOD.


with the kindness of her Grandson, that
she did not give herself time to admire
his presents; but the following Sunday,
when she put on her warm shawl, her
fur shoes, and her gloves, she felt the
comfort of them so much, that she
stopped every person she met to talk to
them about it, and to praise her Grand-
son for his kindness to her.



EMILY HAYWOOD.

EMILY HAYWOOD was a great reader,
though but a little girl. She was very
young when she learned to read, but
she was fond of it, and people do best
what they are most fond of. Her cousin





EMILY HAYWOOD.


Charlotte was a year and a half older
than she was, and some people thought
her a very clever child, for she could
throw her skipping-rope over her head
and over her shoulders, and cross it in
many ways which I cannot describe, for
I am an old woman, and know nothing
about skipping! but this I know, that
although Charlotte could skip, play a
tune with two fingers on the piano-forte,
and draw a tumble-down house with a
pen or pencil, she could not read three
lines without spelling, and never had
a dozen words to spell but she made
ten mistakes in repeating them.
Emily's great delight was in her books;
and, what was strange in such a child,
she liked nothing so well to read of as





EMILY HAYWOOD.


the old kings and queens. She had
a small History of England, which was
always in her hand, and she could
repeat all the principal things which
had happened in the reigns of the Ed-
wards, the Richards, and the Henrys;
but her favourite was Elizabeth; and
having seen a painting of that queen at
a nobleman's house, which her Mamma
had taken her to see, she went home so
full of it, that she could not rest till she
had got her maid to assist her to dress
her doll in the fashion of Queen Eliza-
beth; and when she had done it, she
surprised all the family by taking her
down to the garden, where they were
walking, and leading her towards them,
said. "My doll is like old Queen Bess."







CAROLINE.

"PRAY, Papa," said Caroline, "do
let me have a garden of my own Tom
and Anne and Mary will never let any
thing grow; what they plant one day,
they remove the next; and so the flowers
die -they do not give any thing time
to take root; and then, Papa, they sow
seeds, and a day or two after, they begin
scratching to see whether they are grow-
ing; and they dig up my shrubs just as
they do their own: I never can have any
thing with them, and I do so love a gar-
den, and I will keep it so neat, and take
so much care of it, if you will but try
me !-Will you, dear Papa?"




CAROLINE.


Papa consented, and Caroline had a
pretty bit of garden ground given to
her which Nicholas had directions to
put in order for her; and after that,
except now and then a few jobs, which
she could not do, because she was not
strong enough, she was to take care of
it, and weed and water it herself. Ca-
roline was up early the next morning,
and found some beautiful shrubs and
flowers already planted in her garden;
for Nicholas was very fond of her, be-
cause his wife had been her nurse, and
so she was sure to have the best of
every thing ; and as she was not so
whimsical as her brother and sisters,
but let the things grow where they were
planted, when the summer came, her





THE RETURN FROM WATERLOO.


little garden was so blooming that every
one went to admire it; and she had
very often a pretty nosegay to give her
Mamma.
She watered her plants and trees when
the weather was very warm, and the
earth dry; and she had a little water-
ing-pot of her own, and a rake and a
hoe; and when she saw any straggling
branches, she was sure to tie them up,
and was, as she always said, as busy as
a bee.


THE RETURN FROM WATERLOO.

"WHAT is the matter with the chil-
dren ?" said old Ralph the miller to him-
self, when he saw a little boy and girl





THE RETURN FROM WATERLOO.


on a rising ground near the road, one
throwing his hat up in the air, the
other waving a branch of a laurel-tree
almost as big as herself, and both of
them whooping and huzzaing as if they
had been crazed. "Why, Master Fre-
derick Miss Julia !" cried he, going up
to the place where they were, "what is
all this noise for ?"
Dear me, Ralph answered the
boy, "you must be blind and deaf,
surely; pray look down the road, and
see what a number of soldiers there -are
coming this way, and how shining and
fine they are, and their music and
drums!-Why, Ralph, do not you hear
their drums ? "
"I do now," said Ralph; "but you





THE RETURN FROM WATERLOO.


and Miss made so much noise, I could
hear nothing else; and besides, at such
a distance I did not notice the drums.
I am so used to our mill, that I do not
much mind noises: but can you tell
me, Master Frederick, where all these
men come from?"
"They come from Waterloo," replied
Frederick; my papa told me they were
coming this way, and he is gone on
horseback to meet them; for we have
an uncle and a cousin among them."
Ralph now asked Frederick if he could
tell him what part of England Waterloo
was to be found in; and Frederick, who
was a clever little boy, and often looked
over maps with his Papa, told him that
it was not in England, but across the




THE RETURN FROM WATERLOO.


sea, and that his Papa had told him
they had been there to fight the French,
and prevent their coming to England to
take away people's money and houses
from them.
Bless me cried Ralph, it is
well they went, or what would have
become of my poor mill my potato
garden, my flower-garden, and my bees!
Good morning, my young master and
Miss Julia; I will get home before they
pass by my door, and bring out a cask
of my best ale, that they may drink the
King's health and the Prince Regent's,
and long life to all the Royal Family."








POLITENESS.
THERE was once a young lady, who
was very plain in her person, but so
foolish and so vain, that she fancied
herself quite beautiful, and that her
shape was admired by every one who
looked at her: but she was very much
mistaken; for as she had never been
obedient when she was a little girl, the
more she was desired to hold up her
head and sit straight on her chair, the
more she stooped and squeezed herself
into a corer, so that she was more
awkward than I can possibly describe;
and whenever she moved to walk across
the room, she twisted herself into so




POLITENESS.


many odd shapes, that she was quite
ridiculous.
So far, this young lady is the only one
to be blamed; and I wish I had nothing
more to relate, but I cannot help it. I
do not only wish my little readers, when
they see any thing wrong in others, not
to imitate the fault, but that they should
never laugh at, or make a mock of it;
and if little George and his sister Fanny
had followed my advice, they would not
be at this moment confined to the nur-
sery, after having been sent, in disgrace,
out of the drawing-room.
The young lady above-mentioned went,
a few days since, to visit their Mamma;
and as soon as she entered the room, a
gentleman nearly as fantastical as her-




POLITENESB.


self, rose up to give her a chair. The
rest of the company, whatever they
thought, were too well bred to laugh,
or appear to take notice of the bowing
and twisting of the gentleman and lady;
but George and Fanny, I am sorry to
say it, stood up directly behind them,
he imitating one, and Fanny the other,
in such a manner that they thought
every one present would be much amused
with their cleverness ? but they were
disappointed, for the company frowned
instead of laughing, and their Mamma
ordered them both to quit the drawing-
room, and forbade them to enter it again
till they knew better how to behave
themselves.







THE DANGER OF SWINGING.
EDWARD DAVIES, with his sisters,
Lucy and Anne, went to spend a day
in the country: they were all up at six
o'clock in the morning, and found break-
fast ready when they arrived at their
friend's house; tea and cream, and hot
cakes, and currant cakes besides; and
Edward and Lucy began to devour
them as fast as they could eat: but
little Anne said their Mamma had or-
dered them not to eat any cream, and
very few cakes; and she certainly knew
better what was fit for them than they
did, and therefore she would obey her
Mamma's orders.





66 THE DANGER OF SWINGING.


Edward and Lucy laughed at the
little girl; but they did not laugh long,
for they both grew very sick about an
hour after breakfast, and could not rise
from their chairs; so Anne went into the
garden and into the poultry yard, and
saw every thing that was to be seen.
At dinner time they were not well
enough to eat much; and it was very
well that they could not, for they were
better in the evening; but if they had
crammed at dinner as they had done at
breakfast, they would have been very ill
indeed.
The old lady whom they went to
spend the day with had a swing at the
bottom of her garden, which their Mam-
ma knew, and had ordered them not to





THE DANGER OF SWINGING.


get into it on any account whatever; but
the first thing Lucy did was to ask her
brother to help her to seat herself upon
the rope, and she began to swing so much
that poor little Anne was afraid to look
at her, while Edward mounted into one
of the large trees, laughing at his sister,
because she said they would break their
necks.-But what was the end of it ?-
they both fell, and returned home with
their foreheads bound up, and Edward's
arm very much hurt. So they were
never allowed to go any where without
their Papa and Mamma; whilst Anne
went to every place whither she was in-
vited, because they knew she could be
trusted, and would never disobey orders.







GOOD LITTLE MARY.

You will think the younger sisters
are my favourites, for I have another
story in my head of one who was much
better to be trusted than an elder one,
who was twelve years old; and she
of whom I am going to tell you was
only eight.
Their mother was a country-woman,
and kept cows and pigs and poultry;
so she was obliged to go to market,
and leave her little baby to the care of
Peggy, her eldest daughter, who was
old enough to take care of it, if she had
liked the trouble: but that was not the
case; for as soon as her mother was




GOOD LITTLE MARY.


gone, she popped the poor little creature
into the cradle, and told Mary to sit by
it for a minute or two, and she would
return directly; but that she never did,
till she heard old Dobbin trotting down
the lane, and then in she ran, and if her
sister had the baby on her lap, snatched
it up in her arms, that her mother might
think she had never left it.
Little Mary never told tales of her
sister, though her mother was some-
times angry that she had not finished
her task of knitting; and she could not
help it, for the baby often cried and
would not stay in the cradle, and Mary
was obliged to hold it on her lap all the
time her mother was away.
One morning, the good woman was





GOOD LITTLE MARY.


making ready to go to market, and as
she had a good deal to do, she said
she should not return so soon as usual;
so she put some food for the baby by the
fire, to keep it warm, and told Peggy to
be very careful to feed it if it cried, and
try to sing it to sleep: but Peggy had
something to do which she liked better;
so away she went, and Mary hardly
knew what to do; for the baby did no-
thing but cry; it was crying when the
naughty girl put it into the cradle and
left it, but she did not trouble her head
about the matter.
Poor Mary warmed the food, and then
took the child upon her lap and fed it
as well as she was able, and as she had
seen her mother do: and as it was then




GOOD LITTLE MARY.


quiet, she began to sing lullaby with
such a sweet little voice that it fell fast
asleep.
I do not think you will be sorry to
hear that Peggy's naughtiness was now
discovered; her mother had forgotten
something which she was to have taken
with her; so, instead of staying longer
than usual at market, she came back
half an hour sooner, and was much sur-
prised to find Mary alone with the
baby; and as Peggy was not to be found,
though she called and inquired for her
all round the house, she soon heard
from her neighbours that this was the
way she always did; so her mother, as
she was of no use to her, sent her to a
farmer, where she could not play any




NOISY O(OILIA.


of her tricks, but was made to work
very hard; and Mary, as she grew older,
became every year more useful, and
lived very happy with her mother and
the little baby, of whom she always took
the greatest care.




NOISY CECILIA.

I HAVE now to say a word or two
of the most noisy little creature I ever
met with in my life; and as she was a
younger sister, and had several brothers
and sisters who were very good chil-
dren, you will not think me partial to
all the young ones, though I have men-





NOISY CEOILA.


tioned two or three who have behaved
better than their elders.
As to Miss Cecilia R. I assure you I
could not have lived in the house with
her on any account. At six o'clock in
the morning, the noise began; if her
maid would not let her out of the nur-
sery, she would take up any thing she
could get at, and drum upon the table
till she awoke every creature in the
house: and when she got down into
the hall, her delight was to make the
great dog bark, or bring in her little
cart full of stones ; and if she could run
with it till it overset, and the stones
rolled about till the servants came to
see what was the matter, she was the
more delighted.


S73




NOISY CECILIA.


At dinner, she made so much noise
by rattling her fork and spoon on her
plate, that the servants could not hear
when they were asked for any thing;
so she was sent to dine in the nursery,
and she was so troublesome every where
that nobody could bear her company.
No one, however, was so much dis-
turbed by her as her poor Grandmam-
ma, who would have loved her very
much indeed if she had been a good
child; but she could not bear to see her
come into her room, because see knew
she would give her the headache' and
inake her ill all day; and she never
minded what was said to her, but grew
worse and worse. She went, one morn-
ing, into her Grandmamma's room, when




clUIOSITY.


she was reading, beating the drum with
one hand and holding a trumpet to her
mouth with the other, and the poor old
lady was almost distracted; so Miss
Cecilia was sent to a great distance to
school, and not allowed to come home
till she left off her naughty, noisy tricks.





CURIOSITY.

ARABELLA fancied there could be no
pleasure in the world equal to that of
listening to conversations in which she
had no concern; peeping into her Mam-
ma's drawers and boxes, and asking




OURIOSITY.


impertinent questions. If a parcel were
brought to the house, she had no rest
till she had found out what was in it;
and if her Papa rang the bell, she would
never quit the room till the servant
came up, that she might hear what he
wanted.
She had been often desired to be less
curious, and more attentive to her les-
sons; to play with her doll and her
baby-house, and not trouble herself with
other people's affairs: but she never
minded what was said to her. When
she was sitting by her Mamma, with
a book in her hand, instead of read-
ing it and endeavouring to improve
herself, she was always looking around
her, to observe what her brothers and




ORIOBITr.


sisters were doing, and to watch every
one who went out or came into the
room.
She desired extremely to have a writ-
ing master, because she hoped that,
after she had learned a short time, she
should be able to read writing, and then
she should have the pleasure of finding
out whom all the letters were for which
the servant carried to the post-office,
and might sometimes peep over her
Papa's shoulder, and read those which
he received. One day, perceiving her
Mamma whisper to her brother Wil-
liam, and that they soon after left the
room together, she immediately con-
cluded there must be something going
forward-some secret which was to be




CURIOSITY.


hid from her, and which, perhaps, if
she lost the present moment, she never
should be able to discover. Poor Ara-
bella could sit still no longer; she watch-
ed them from the window, and seeing
that they went towards a gate in the
garden, which opened into the wood, she
determined to be there before them,
and to hide herself in the bushes near
the path, that she might overhear their
conversation as they passed by. This
she soon accomplished, by taking a
shorter way: but it was not very
long before she had reason to wish
she had not been so prying; for the
gardener, passing through the wood
with an ill-natured cur, which always
followed him, seeing her move among




CURIOSITY.


the bushes, it began to bark violently,
and in an instant jumped into her
lap.
She was very much frightened, and
in trying to get away, gave him, with-
out intending it, a great blow on the
head; in return for which he bit her
finger, and it was so very much hurt,
and was so long before it was quite well
again, that her friends hoped it would
have cured her of being so curious:
but they were much mistaken. Ara-
bella's finger was no sooner well, than
the pain she had suffered, her fright,
and the gardener's cur, were all for-
gotten; and whenever any thing hap-
pened, let the circumstance be ever so
trifling, if she did not perfectly under-




CURIOSITY.


stand the whole matter, she could not
rest nor attend to any thing she had to
do till she had discovered the mystery;
for she imagined mysteries and secrets in
every thing she saw and heard, unless
she had been informed of what was
going to be done.
Some time after her adventure in the
wood, she, one morning, missed her bro-
ther William, and, not finding him at
work in his little garden, began di-
rectly to imagine her Mamma had sent
him on some secret expedition: she
resolved, however, on visiting the whole
house, in the hope of finding him, before
she made any inquiry, and accordingly
hunted every room and every closet, but
to no purpose. From the house she




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