Front Cover
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 List of Illustrations
 Front Matter
 The Four Rules
 Rodolphus at the Mill
 The Return
 The Diving Pier
 The Hay Camp
 Back Cover

Group Title: Franconia stories ; <7>
Title: Ellen Linn
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00001936/00001
 Material Information
Title: Ellen Linn a Franconia story
Series Title: Franconia stories
Physical Description: 215 p., <1> leaf of plates : ill. ; 18 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Abbott, Jacob, 1803-1879
Roberts, William, b. ca. 1829 ( Engraver )
Harper & Brothers ( Publisher )
Publisher: Harper & Brothers
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: c1852
Subject: Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Brothers and sisters -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Friendship -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Country life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children and death -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Embossed cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1852   ( rbbin )
Bldn -- 1852
Genre: Embossed cloth bindings (Binding)   ( rbbin )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
Statement of Responsibility: by the author of the Rollo books.
General Note: Illustrations engraved by W. Roberts.
Funding: Brittle Books Program
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00001936
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002220762
oclc - 17328848
notis - ALG0965
 Related Items
Other version: Alternate version (PALMM)
PALMM Version

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front page 1
        Front page 2
        Front page 3
        Front page 4
        Front page 5
    Title Page
        Page iii
        Page iv
        Page v
        Page vi
    Table of Contents
        Page vii
    List of Illustrations
        Page viii
    Front Matter
        Page ix
        Page x
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
    The Four Rules
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
    Rodolphus at the Mill
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
    The Return
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
    The Diving Pier
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
        Page 172
    The Hay Camp
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 181
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
        Page 186
        Page 187
        Page 188
        Page 189
        Page 190
        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
    Back Cover
        Page 216
        Page 217
        Page 218
Full Text


The Baldwin Library



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T--~- I -C L ----~_---~ r---I~--_~- -r~-CTr-----P~s~

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A ?faweok O S Or.,

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand
eight hundred and fifty-two, by
in the clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District
of New York



THm development of the moral sentiments in the
human heart, in early life,-and every thing in fact
which relates to the formation of character,-is deter-
mined in a far greater degree by sympathy, and by
the influence of example, than by formal precepts and
didactic instruction. If a boy hears his father speak.
ing kindly to a robin in the spring,-welcoming its
coming and offering it food,-there arises at once in
his own mind a feeling of kindness toward the bird,
and toward all the animal creation, which is produced
by a sort of sympathetic action, a power somewhat
similar to what in physical philosophy is called induc-
tion. On the other hand, if the father, instead of feed-
ing the bird, goes eagerly for a gun, in order that he
may shoot it, the boy will sympathize in that desire,
and growing up under such an influence, there will be
gradually formed within him, through the mysterious
tendency of the youthful heart to vibrate in unison with
hearts that are near, a disposition to kill and destroy all
helpless beings that come within hi? nnwor Thnar is


is no need of any formal instruction in either case.
Of a thousand children brought up under the former
of the above-described influences, nearly every one,
when he sees a bird, will wish to go and get crumbs
to feed it, while in the latter case, nearly every one
will just as certainly look for a stone. Thus the grow-
ing up in the right atmosphere, rather than the receiv-
ing of the right instruction, is the condition which it
is most important to secure, in plans for forming the
characters of children.
It is in accordance with this philosophy that these
stories, though written mainly with a view to their
moral influence on the hearts and dispositions of the
readers, contain very little formal exhortation and in-
struction. They present quiet and peaceful pictures of
happy domestic life, portraying generally such conduct,
and expressing such sentiments and feelings, as it is
desirable to exhibit and express in the presence of
The books, however, will be found, perhaps, after all,
to be useful mainly in entertaining and amusing the
youthful readers who may peruse them, as the writing
of them has been the amusement and recreation of the
author in the intervals of more serious pursuits.




S. 80
S. .* 114
. 151




ANmE's PRIsoN,

. 25
S* 54
S 70
.* 81
.. 101
* 117
*. 128
S 131
1. 71
.. 190







FaNoomA, a village among the mountains at the North.
The time is in the spring and summer.

RODOLPBUS, her brother.
MRS. HENaT, a lady residing at a short distance from the
village at Franconia.
ALPaoNzo, commonly called Phonnyj her son;. now about
ten years old.
MALnVILL, Mrs. Henry's niece, about eight years old.
Airroz BILNCmrHINE a French boy, at service at Mrs
Henry's, now about fourteen years old. He is commonly
called Beechnut.
MAaR BELL, Ellen Linn's friend.



Ellen Llnn's early life. The tow-storm.

ELLEN LINN'S father and mother lived
in a small, but very pleasant house, by the
side of a mill-stream, just below the village at
Franconia. Ellen herself, however, did not
live at home much, while she was a child.
She lived with her Aunt Randon, in a farm-
house among the mountains, a mile or two
from her father's house. Her brother and
sister, however, Rodolphus and Annie, lived at
When Ellen's aunt died, Ellen came to live
at home again. Her father died at the same
time. He got lost in the snow in a great storm,
and perished.
It was in the night that Ellen's father got
lost in the storm-a night in February. The
storm began the night before; the children,

Rodulphus and Annie talk about the storm.

Rodolphus and Annie, when they woke up in
the morning, found that it was snowing.
"There I it is snowing," said Rodolphus,
" and I am glad of it."
"Why are you glad ?" said Annie.
Because we can't go to school to-day," said
And I am sorry, for that very account,"
said Annie.
Annie was quite a little girl, much young-
er than Rodolphus, but sheliked to go to school.
The storm increased all the morning. About
ten o'clock, Rodolphus and Annie were play-
ing together in the kitchen. Rodolphus had
got a pudding pan from one of the shelves of
the dresser, and having turned it upside down
upon the floor, was trying to stand on his head
upon it. He attempted to steady himself by
clasping the sides of the pudding pan with his
hands. Annie was seated on a block by the
side of the fire, attempting to draw upon
her slate. She was much distressed to see
Rodolphus trying such dangerous experi-
"Rodolphus said she, in a very stern
voice, "you mr t not do so. You will break
your head,--or else the pudding pan."



Rodolphus's misbehavior. The guilty feeling.
Just then the outer door opened, and Ro-
dolphus, fearing that his father might be
coming in, suddenly jumped up and put the
pudding-pan upon The table. He just had
time to do this, and to assume a countenance
of innocence and unconcern, when the inner
door opened, and his father came in.
Thus Annie's prediction, 'that Rodolphus
would break either his head or the pudding-
pan, failed of accomplishment; and there was
not, in fact, much danger of his breaking
either, for they were both very strong. He,
however, brought upon himself another kind
of suffering by thus doing what he supposed
his father would disapprove, that is, he made
himself feel guilty and self-condemned, and
so very miserable, when his father came in.
The guilty feeling is the most uncomfortable
and wretched feeling that we can admit into
our hearts.
Rodolphus saw that his father was muffled
up as if he were going away somewhere.
"Where are you going, father P" said he.
"I am going across the river," said his
"May I go, too ?" said Rodolphus.
Rodolphus's question came too late for an



Annie's reasoning. Whip lost Mr. Linn's carelesmes.

answer; for his father was going out through
another door, at the instant of Rodolphus's
asking it, and he shut the door before he had
time to reply.
No, you can not go, Rodolphus," said
"Why not ?" asked Rodolphus.
'Because it is a storm," said Annie.
"No matter for that," said Rodolphus, "I
can go if it does storm."
No," said Annie, or else you might have
gone to school."
"Hoh I" said Rodolphus, "that's a different
Very soon after this, Mr. Linn came back
again. He was looking for his whip. He was
not accustomed to have regular places for his
things, and so he often lost them; that is, he
laid down any thing that he had been using,
wherever it happened to be convenient for the
moment, and then when he wanted it again, it
was often nowhere to be found.
What can have become of my whip ?" said
he, impatiently. Rodolphus, what have you
done with my whip ?"
"I have not had your whil said Rodol-



Annie finds the whip. Mr. Linn i pushed.

Mr. Linn, as other persons who lose their
property by their own carelessness are apt to
do, often charged the loss unreasonably upon
others, and Rodolphus in cases where he was
thus charged, often replied to his father very
"Let us go and see if we can find the
whip," said Annie,-in a low and gentle tone.
Rodolphus sat still, but Annie went to look
for the whip. Presently Mr. Linn, who was
all the time looking about for the whip, de-
manded of Rodolphus why he had not gone to
school. Rodolphus said it was on account of
the storm, and then he asked his father to let
him go with him over the river.
No," said his father, "you ought to have
gone to school."
Just at this moment Annie found the whip.
It was behind the clock. Rodolphus had put it
there. His father had laid it down upon the
kitchen table when he came in with it the last
time, and Rodolphus had taken it to play
horses with it, and when he was tired of play-
ing horses, he had hid the whip away behind
the clock, so as to have it ready whenever he
should want it to play with again.
"That's a good girl," said Mr. Linn, when



The storm increases. Annie is going with her father.

Annie brought out the whip. You may go
over the river with me if you please."
"Well," said Annie, clapping her hands.
" I'll go and get my bonnet."
Just then, however, Mr. Linn looked at the
clock, and seeing how late it was, said that
on the whole he would wait till after dinner,
as he found that there would not be time to
go and come back before dinner. He accord-
ingly waited. It was after one o'clock before
he was ready to go. The storm, in the mean
time, had increased, and the snow was getting
to be very deep. Annie's mother began to
be afraid to have Annie go. It is a dread-
ful storm," said she, "I am almost afraid to
have your father go himself." But Mr. Linn
said there was no danger. He should get
home, he said, before the snow became very
deep. This did not satisfy Mrs. Linn, but she
yielded and began to dress Annie for the
ride. She put a warm cloak over her, and
tied a woolen comforter about her neck; and
then her father, taking her up in his arms at
the step of the door, carried her out to the
sleigh, and getting in himself he rode out of
the yard.
Annie covered herself up well with the'



Mr. Linn and Annie set out. The orm.
buffalo skins which were in the sleigh, leav-
ing only a small ope!pg to peep out at. She
called this her peeping hole. It did not, how-
ever, do much good, for when Annie peeped
out there was little to be seen but the storm.
The house where Mr. Linn lived was situa-
ted, as has already been said, on the bank of
a small stream a little below the village. This
stream emptied into a pretty broad river about
a mile below. Mr. Linn was going across this
river. Accordingly when he got into the
road, instead of taking the way which led
toward the village, he turned in an opposite
direction, that is to say down the stream.
Where are you going, father ?" said
"Over the river," replied her father.
There seemed to be something terrible to
Annie's mind in the idea of going over the
river in such a storm, though she knew very
well that the whole surface of the water was
frozen over, and that the ice was very thick
and very solid. She could not but think,
however, what a dreadful thing it would be,
if by any possibility they should break
throughthe ice and sink into the dark cold
water below.



The wreaths of snow. Mr. Linn meets a traveler.

The horse trotted merily along, though the
sound of the bells was somewhat muffled by
the effect of the falling snow. The wind was
behind them when they turned to go down
the stream, and so Annie could look out bet-
ter than before, for now the wind and snow
did not blow in her face. She could see the
little wreaths of snow driving along the road-
side, and the walls half covered, and the trees
-wherever trees grew along the bank of the
stream-with their dark ever-green branches
whitened with flakes and bent down with the
load that rested upon them.
After going on in this way for a short dis-
tance, Mr. Linn stopped the horse.
What are you stopping for ?" asked
To speak to a man," said her father.
As her father said these words, Annie heard
the sound of sleigh bells coming up a steep
road, or rather up a steep place where it
seemed as if there might be a road, though
every thing was so buried up in snow that all
traces of a traveled way had wholly disap-
peared. Annie pushed her buffalo aside and
looked out. She saw a horse and slgh com-
ing up. Mr. Linn remained where he was


ELLEN Lixii.

He go down upon the ice. Tho banks of the strhum
until the man came near, and then asked him
if the road was blocked up much, down on the
"No," said the man, without stopping, and
so passed by.
"Then I am going down upon the ice,"
said Mr. Linn. So saying he turned down
into the way by which Annie had seen the
man ascending.
Annie thought that she should be afraid
when the horse and sleigh began to go upon
the ice, but she was not, for she did not know
when it was. For after descending the hill,
and riding along for some distance-all the
way through deep snow-she asked her father
how long it would be before he would come
to the ice.
"We are on the ice now," said he, "and
we have been upon it for a long time."
Annie looked out eagerly at hearing this.
She saw that they were riding over what
seemed to be a long and narrow field, all
white with snow. This she knew was the
stream. She could see the banks on either
side, though very di y, on account of the air
being full of driving snow. Presently they
came to the mouth of the stream, and then



Annie feels afraid. She covers up her bead.
keeping directly onward they began to go out
on the broad river.
Annie now soon lost sight of the land alto-
gether. Nothing was to be seen on either
hand but the thick and murky %atmosphere.
She expected that the horse's back would
have been covered with snow, but it was not.
White lines were seen here and there in shel-
tered places among the harness, but the snow
was so dry, and it was driven so freely by
the wind, that very little remained where it
Annie was somewhat afraid now. She
thought of the deep and black water which
she knew was gliding along beneath them,
under the ice, and began to imagine the aw-
ful condition that she and her father would
be in, if the ice should break through. She
wished that her father would talk to her, but
he was very silent. She asked him several
questions from time to time, but he answered
very briefly and then relapsed into silence, as
before. So at last she covered up her head
with the buffalos, and asked her father to tell
her when they got to tblland.
We have got to it now," said her father.
Annie immediately looked out, and saw a



Conversation between Annie and her father.

dim, dark mass rising up before her. It
proved to be the edge of the forest, on the
bank. The road entered this forest as it left
the ice, and as soon as the sleigh was fairly
sheltered by the trees, the wind seemed sud-
denly to subside, and the air became calm.
"How much farther is it I" asked Annie.
About a mile," replied her father.
"Where is it that you are going I" said
To Farmer Tyne's," replied her father.
There was another man whose name was
Tyne living in that neighborhood, who was a
carpenter, and so the man to whose house Mr.
Linn was now going was generally called
Farmer Tyne to distinguish him.
"What are you going for ?" asked Annie.
"To get some corn," said Mr. Linn.
"Oh 1" said Annie.
_Then after a short pause she added,
And how are you going to bring it
home ?"
"In a bag," said her father.
"Where is the bag ?" asked Annie.
"Down in the bottom of the sleigh," re-
,plied her father.
Oh I" said Annie again.

Annie's questions. She sings a little song.

It took nearly half an hour to go to Farmer
Tyne's house from the river, although the dis-
tance was only about a mile, for the snow was
so deep that the horse was obliged to walk
almost all the way. At one place, they came
to a drift so deep that the horse could not get
through it, and Mr. Linn was obliged to get
out of the sleigh and trample down the snow,
around and before the horse.
When Mr. Linn got into the sleigh again,
Annie asked him which was the strongest, a
man or a horse.
"A horse, certainly," said Mr. Linn.
"Then why can not he trample down the
snow himself, as well as to have you get out
and do it for him ?"
"I don't know, child," said Mr. Linn, "you
must not keep asking me so many questions."
Being thus repulsed, Annie was silent dur-
ing the remainder of the ride, excepting that
at one time, when they were going up a long
hill, she sung a little song to herself, keeping
time with the jingling of the sleigh-bells,
which came to her ear in a sort of regular
beat, as the horse walked slowly along.
At length Annie found herself riding into a
yard. She thought that it was Farmer Tyne's



They arrive at Farmer Tyne's.

yard, but she did not dare to inquire, for her
father had directed hUr not to ask questions.
She was right, however, in her conjecture, for
it was Farmer Tyne's yard.
Mr. Linn stopped at a door in a sheltered
corner, round behind the house. He lifted
Annie out of the sleigh, and then opening the
door, he set her down in a sort of passage. Q
Just then an inner-door opened, and a little
child appeared. The child had come in order
to see who it was that had arrived.
Where's your father, Jenny said Mr.
Linn, speaking to the child.
"He is out in the barn," said Jenny.
"Well, take Annie in by the fire," said
Mr. Linn, while I go and find him. I shall
come back presently."
So Jenny came forward, and taking Annie
by the hand, she led her in.
Annie found herself ushered into a very
comfortable farmer's kitchen. The walls were
darkened by time, and the windows were so
much obscured by the snow which was banked
up against them on the outside,-that there was
not much light in the room, except what came
from the fire. There was, however, a very
bright, blazing fire, which gleamed over the



The old blind woman. The hearth. An apple roasting.
floor, and diffused its light and its warmth all
about, so as to make th8 room look very com-
fortable and pleasant.
There was a very old woman sitting in an
old-fashioned rocking-chair in one corner.
She was knitting, rocking at the same time a
very little to and fro. She listened when
0 Annie came in, but she did not look up. In
Lact, it would have done no good for her to
look up, for she was blind. She, therefore,
only listened.
Annie went up to the fire, and Jenny
brought her a chair.
The hearth was formed of two very large
flat stones. These had been originally one
stone, but the fire had cracked it, and the two
parts had become somewhat separated, so that
now there were two.
The fireplace was built of stones, too.
These stones were rough and irregular in
form, and laid together like a common wall,
without any mortar between them. Annie
liked the fireplace very much, and she wished
that they had such an one at their house.
There was an apple down upon the hearth,
between the andirons, roasting. Jenny pointed
to it and said,



An apple for Annie. Jenny's grandmother.

"I have just put an appleodown to roast
for me, and now I will go and get another and
put it down for you."
So she lighted a candle and went down cel-
lar, and presently returned with a very large
rod-apple for Annie. Jenny put the candle
away, and then set Annie's apple down upon
the hearth by the side of her own.


As soon as she had done this, the old womaL
in the rocking-chair called her.
Jenny ?" said she.
"What, grandmother said Jenny.
"Who is that that has come in?" asked
the old woman.
"Annie Linn," said Jenny.



Mr. Linn comes for Annie to go home.

So the old *oman went on with her knit-
The children watched the apples a few
minutes, and then went playing about the room.
After a few minutes the old woman said
"Jenny, who is this that has come in to
Splay with you ?"
"Annie Linn," said Jenny.
So Jenny's grandmother went on with her
knitting again.
"You told her once before," said Annie to
Jenny in a whisper.
Yes, but she always forgets," said Jenny,
may be she'll ask me again pretty soon."
But she did not ask again, for before she
took it into her head to do so, Mr. Linn came
in to tell Annie that he was ready to go
Annie was quite surprised and disappointed
to find that the time had come for them to go
Now, father !" she exclaimed in a mournful
tone. My apple is not roasted yet."
Mr. Linn looked at the apples as they stood
on the hearth before the fire, and said he
thought they were roasted enough.



Annie disappointed. Packing up the apple.
"Besides,-I wanted to eat my apple," said
Very well," said Mr. Linn, "eat it now.
I will wait for you to do that."
But it is too hot," said Annie.
While this conversation had been going on,
Jenny had brought a plate and a fork, and
began to take up the apples.
Then you must carry it home and eat it
there," said Mr. Linn.
"But it will burn my fingers to carry it,"
said Annie.
Well," said Mr. Linn, "I don't know what
you will do, then, for we must not wait here
any longer. The storm is growing worse and
worse, and the snow is getting so deep that I
don't know whether we can get home even if
we go now, and I can't wait any longer."
Jenny contrived a plan to escape from the
difficulty. She went into a closet and brought
out an old tea-cup. It was perfectly clean,
though it was cracked, and there was a notch
broken out in the edge on one side. She put
Annie's apple in this cup. The apple was so
large that it filled the cup full. Jenny then
went to a drawer and took out a piece of white
paper, and this she put over the apple in the


- 2T

The ride home. The storm increases. Incidonts.

cup, and then wrapped up the .whole in a
cloth. By this time Annie had put on her
cloak and bonnet, and was ready to go.
Jenny put the round parcel that she had
made into Annie's hands, just as her father
was taking her up to carry her out to the
sleigh, saying,
"There, hold it so, and it will keep your
hands warm all the way home."
So Annie said good-by to Jenny's grand-
mother and to Jenny herself, and then Mr.
Linn carried her out into the storm. The
wind was blowing very high, and it whirled
the sharp, driving flakes of snow so furiously
through the air, that Annie covered her face
up entirely when her father put her into the
sleigh. Her father then spread a great buffalo-
skin over her. Here she remained a long time,
wholly hidden from view. She could perceive
that she was moving along through the snow,
and could feel the warmth of her apple in
her hands. She could also hear the muffled
jingling of the bells, and the howling of the
winds in the tops of the forest, and that was
all. She rode so for a long time.
Several times the sleigh stopped, and Mr.
Linn got out, and after doing something about



Annie peeps out from time to time. Mr. Linn stop.

the horse, he would come back, get into the
sleigh again, and drive on. Annie supposed
that there were great drifts at those places,
and that her father got out to trample.down
the snow, so that the horse could get through.
But she did not like to ask any questions.
She peeped out now and then, but she
found that it was growing dark very fast. It
made Annie afraid, to see that it was growing
dark, and so she determined not to look out
any more. She therefore covered herself up
entirely in the buffalos, and comforted herself
as well as she could with feeling the warmth
of her apple, as she held the parcel in her
After some little time, she observed that
the horse went more and more slowly. Her
father had to whip him and to shout out to
him continually, to make him go along. He
got out very often, too, to trample down the
At length the horse stopped, and Mr. Linn
allowed him to stand still, for a minute or two,
he himself remaining in his seat by the side
of Annie. Annie opened the buffalo-skin and
peeped out.
"What's the matter, father ?" said she.



Mr. Linn is lost. He finds land. Annie looks out.
"I don't know where we are," said her
Annie pushed away the buffalo-skin entire-
ly, and looked around. It was quite dark.
Nothing was to be seen but the white snow
close around the sleigh, and the flakes falling
thick through the air.
"What shall we do then ?" asked Annie.
"I don't know," said her father, "cover
yourself up. All that you have to do, is to
cover yourself up, and keep yourself warm."
So Annie covered herself up. In a minute
she felt the sleigh moving again. Her father
was driving on. After going a short distance,
her father called out, in a joyful tone,
Ahl here we are."
"Where?" said Annie, pushing open the
buffalo-skin. Let me see."
"Here's the land," said her father.
"Why, have we been on the river ?" said
Yes," said her father, "and here's the
Annie beheld a small dark mass of trees
before her, dimly seen through the falling
Mr. Linn supposed that he had got across



A great disappointment. Mr. Linn finds a shelter.
the river, and that this land was the shore near
his house; but he was mistaken. He had lost
his way, and had gone down the river more
than a mile, and the land which he had now
discovered was a small island, at a great dis-
tance from either shore.
As soon as he discovered his mistake, he
seemed to be in great distress and per-
( I don't know what I shall do," said he.
Where are we ?" said Annie.
Why, we are a mile down the river, and I
don't think the horse can ever get us back
again. I shall have to find some shelter for
you, and leave you here while I go across to
the shore and get some help."
"Well," said Annie. I can stay."
Mr. Linn drove round to the lower side of
the island, and there he found a sort of cove
which formed a sheltered nook among the
trees, just large enough for the horse and
sleigh. He led the horse into this recess, and
tied him with a long rein to a small tree, which
grew near the shore. He then covered the
horse with a blanket. Next he went to the
sleigh, and directed Annie to creel down into
the bottom of it, while he covered her up with



Mr. Linn covers Annie up in the sleigh.

the buffalo-skin. Annie did so. The bottom
of the sleigh was covered with straw, and the
bag of corn lay upon one side, so that by ly-
ing down upon the straw, and putting her
head upon the bag of corn for a pillow, Annie
contrived to place herself in. a very comfort
able position.
Mr. Linn then put two buffalo-skins over her,
tucking the edges of them down all around on
the inside of the sleigh very carefully. There
was a third skin, but this, Mr. Linn thought,
would not be necessary, and so he threw it
over the back of the sleigh. He thought that
Annie would be stifled if he were to cover her
up too much.
Are you comfortable said Mr. Linn,
putting his head down near the sleigh and
speaking very loud.
"Yes, sir," said Annie.
And warm enough ?"
"Yes, sir," said Annie.
"Can you breathe well?" said Mr. Linn.
"Yes, sir," said Annie.
"Very well, lie still then, till I come back.
I shall come in the course of an hour."
So Mr. Linn left the sleigh, and turning
from the island, he began to force his way



Annie makes a sort f tent.

The whip-handle.


through the deep snow, in the direction which
he supposed led toward the shore.
It was not long before Annie began to find
it rather difficult to breathe, under her cover-
ings, for the heavy buffalo-skins lay down close
to her face, and the air was very close and
confined. She soon remedied this difficulty,
however, by means of her father's whip. Her
,father had given her this whip to take care of,
before he had covered her up; the whip had

Annie goes to sleep. She wakes up and looks out.

a short and very stiff handle, and Annie found
that she could push up the middle of the buf-
falo-skins with one end of it, and then keep
them up by resting the other end of the whip-
handle on the bottom of the sleigh. Thus she
made a sort of tent, though yet the buffalo-skins
were lifted only a very little by this contri-
vance. They were raised enough, however, to
give Annie plenty of air to breathe.
She lay quite still for a little while, listen-
ing every moment for her father's return.
At length, however, she began to grow sleepy,
and in fact within half an hour of the time
that her father left her, she was fast asleep.
After a time she waked again. She did not
know how long she had been asleep. She
was not quite sure that she had been asleep
at all. She thought she would push up one
corner of the buffalo coverings which had
been placed over her and peep out. She did
so. She saw the horse standing quietly in
his place,-the trees loaded with snow, and
above, the moon was shining through broken
clouds that were floating in the sky.
The storm is over," said Annie, "now my
father will come pretty soon."
Annie began to think that she was hungry.


ELtLEx Iixx

She is hungry. She eats her apple. Morning.
She wished that she had something to eat.
She thought first of the corn in the bag, and
she wished very much that it was parched
corn. If it had been parched corn, she
thought that she would have untied the bag
and got some of it to eat. Then she recollect-
ed her apple. She felt for it among the straw
around her, and soon found it there. It had
fallen out of her hand while she had been
asleep. She soon contrived to get the paper
off, and then holding the cup in her hands,
bit a small hole in the skin of the apple, and
sucked the pulp all out. Then leaving the
core and the skin in the cup, she wrapped the
paper around them again, and pushed the
whole into a corner of the sleigh, as far away
as possible. She laid her head down again
upon the bag of corn, and began to sing a
little tune. In a few minutes she sang her-
self to sleep. She slept for many hours.
In the mean time morning came. The peo.
ple in the village and in the farm-houses of
the country around, rose from their beds, and
finding that the storm was over, they opened
their doors and windows, and began to shovel
off the banks of snow from their door-steps,
and to make paths. After breakfast, they



The people ind Mr. Linn's house shut up.

started out in different directions with teams
of oxen, to break out the roads. One of these
parties passed by Mr. Linn's house, and were
surprised to find the doors all shut, and the
snow around the house unbroken, as if there
were no one at home. A young man with a
shovel in his hand waded through the deep
snow up to the door of the house, and knock-
ed on the door very loud, with the handle of
his shovel. He could not get any answer.
The men then went on and inquired at the
next house. They were told that Mr. Linn
and Annie had gone across the river the day
before, and were to have come home in the
evening; and that Mrs. Linn and Rodolphus
had gone afterward up to see Mrs. Randon,
who was very sick, and not expected to live
through the night. The people were alarmed
at these tidings. They sent some men with a
team to break a road over the river, and see
if Mr. Linn was at Farmer Tyne's. The men
accordingly went. Farmer Tyne told them
that Mr. Linn and Annie were not there.
They had set out to return home in the storm,
he said, about sunset the day before.
The men were now still more alarmed.
Farmer Tyne said that he would go with



Mr. Linn is found buried in the snow.

them, to see what had become of Mr. Linn
and Annie. The whole party accordingly
went back to the river. After searching
about for some time, one of the men espied
something black on the surface of the snow at
a great distance down the river. They all
proceeded to the spot, and were dreadfully
shocked on arriving there, to find that the
black spot was a part of Mr. Linn's arm, and
that his body was beneath, frozen and buried
up in the snow.
The men took up the body in solemn silence,
and put it upon the sled, and then while a
part of them proceeded with it toward the
shore, the others set off in various directions
to find the horse and sleigh, and Annie.
They soon discovered the sleigh in the shelter
where Mr. Linn had placed it. The man who
first saw it shouted out, and the rest all came
eagerly to the spot. They lifted up the buf-
falo and found Annie within.
Why, Annie, are you here ?" said one of
the men.
Yes," said Annie, but where is my fA
their ?"
Your father," said the man, your father
-why-he has gone home."

Annie's grief at the death of her father.

Here there was a moment's pause. At
length the man said again,
Poor child, we may as well tell you first
as last. Your father is dead."
Dead 1" said Annie.
Yes," said the man, c he got lost in the
Annie was silent a moment, as if she
scarcely understood the words, and then she
exclaimed in a tone of bitter anguish,
"Oh dear mel what shall I do "-and
burst into tears.
It was thus that Annie lost her father.

Mrs. Linn's ride to Mrs. Randon's.



ON the same afternoon that Annie and her
father took their ride across the river, to Far-
mer Tyne's, a messenger came down from the
house where Annie's sister Ellen was living
with her aunt among the mountains, to say
that Ellen's aunt, whose name was Mrs. Ran-
don, was very dangerously sick, and to ask
that Mr. and Mrs. Linn would go up and see
her. As Mr. Linn was away, Mrs. Linn at
first did not know what to do. She finally
concluded to go to Mrs. Randon's in a sleigh
with the messenger, and to take Rodolphus
with her. She met with various difficulties
and adventures in the storm on the way, but
at length she reached Mrs. Randon's in safe-
ty. Mrs. Randon had died however before
she arrived. The result of Mrs. Randon's
death was that Annie's sister Ellen came
home to live with her mother again, so that in
one short week, a double change was made in

Annie disobedient. IIor mother had taught her to be so.

Annie's condition. Her sister was restored to
her, and her father was taken away.
Annie was a girl of very mild and gentle
disposition, but she was not at all obedient to
her mother. Her mother in fact had taught
her to be disobedient-not intentionally in-
deed, but incidentally, by her mode of man-
agement. When she gave Annie commands
she did not insist upon her obeying them, as
she ought to have done; and in cases where
Annie openly disobeyed her, if no evil conse-
quences happened, she let the case pass with-
out taking any notice of the transgression.
For instance, one day Rodolphus was mak-
ing a vane to'put up on a corner of the shed,
and in the course of his operations, he fixed a
ladder against the shed in order that he might
climb up to the roof. When he had got the
ladder placed, he mounted upon it, Annie
standing all the time below, and looking on
with great curiosity and wonder.
As soon as Rodolphus had safely reached
the roof, he called to Annie who was on the
ground below,
Come up here, Annie."
Annie looked up the ladder, and then ad-
vancing to the foot of it she took hold of the


ELLEiv Lixx,.


The way to teach disobedience. Threatening.

rounds and began to step up from one to the
other. The shed was not very high, and she
was soon half-way up the ladder.
Just then her mother came to the door and
called out to her very earnestly, saying:
Why Annie, you must not go up that lad-
der. Come down immediately."
"Come right up quick," said Rodolphus,
in an under-tone. He was standing on the
shed at the top of the ladder, looking down
to Annie, as he said this.
Come right up quick," said he, she will
not care."
"Come down, Annie, immediately," said
her mother.
But Annie remained where she was, with-
out obeying either of the contradictory orders
which had been addressed to her. She look-
ed up to Rodolphus to see how much farther
she had to go to reach the top. Then she
looked toward her mother and began to beg
for permission to go on.
Ah! yes, mother," said she, do let me
go on. I am almost to the top."
No," said her mother, you will fall.
'Come down immediately, if you do not, I
shall certainly punish you."


Story about going up the ladder

Mrs. Linn pronounced the word certainly
in a very emphatic manner.
No, mother, I shall not fall," said Annie.
"Rodolphus did not fall. See I mother," she
added, see how well I can go up." So say-
ing she stepped very carefully up another
< Come right up," said Rodolphus.
See I mother," said Annie, stepping up
another round.
By this time Annie had got so far that Ro-
dolphus could reach her arm. He extended
his arm down to help her mount.
Take care," said Mrs. Linn, go very
So Annie, with Rodolphus's help, reached
the roof of the shed and stepped over safely
upon it.
And now how are you ever going to get
down ?" asked Mrs. Linn.
Oh, I will help her down, mother," said
Rodolphus, you need not be at all con-
Well," said Mrs. Linn. Only be very
careful not to go near the edge of the shed,
Annie, and not stay up a great while."
So Mrs. Linn went back into the house.


ELLE~q Lnmo.


How Mn. Linn taught Annie to tease.
Of course such a mode of proceeding as this
was the best possible mode to teach both Ro-
dolphus- and Annie to be habitually disobe-
dient to their mother's commands.
It was in a somewhat similar way that Mrs.
Linn taught Annie to persist in importuning,
or as she called it, teasing her mother, when
she wished for any favor or indulgence which
her mother was at first unwilling to grant.
Her mother would first absolutely refuse.
Annie would, however, go on. urging her re-
quest, and her mother would refuse again,
though less decidedly than before. This would,
of course, encourage Annie to persevere, and
then her mother would begin to argue the
case, giving reasons why she could not grant
the request. These reasons would, of course,
be wholly unsatisfactory to Annie, and so she
would argue back in reply, and thus in the
end her mother would give a hesitating and
reluctant consent to Annie's request.
For instance, one day pretty late in the fall
of the year in which Mr. Linn perished in the
storm, Annie came into the kitchen where her
mother was ironing at a table near the win-
dow, and began to look about for her bonnet
and shawl. She had no regular place for


Story of the lost bonnet and shawl

putting these things, and so whenever she
wished to use them, she was obliged to look
about in closets and drawers, wherever she
thought there was any chance that they might
be found.
Mother," said Annie, "what has become
of my bonnet and my shawl ? I can not find
them anywhere."
Her mother asked her what she wanted
them for, and where she was going.
Annie said that she was going down to the
shore with Rodolphus.
There was a stream of water, as has already
been explained, that flowed along in front of
the house where Annie lived, on the other
side of the road from the house. There was
a high bank between the road and this stream,
with steps to go down. Below, along the
margin of the water, was a pebbly beach
where Rodolphus and Annie were very fond
of going to play. They called it going down
to the shore.
No, Annie," said Mrs. Linn, "you must
not go down to the shore to-day."
"Ah! yes, mother," said Annie, "let me
go. Rodolphus is going, and I want to go
very much."




Mrs. Linn's persuasions. Annie perplexed.

"No," said her mother, "I think you had
better not go."
But, mother," said Annie, Rodolphus is
going, and I want to go very much."
"But it is very cold," said Mrs. Linn. I
would not go if I were you. Besides, I am
afraid you will fall into the water. Stay at
home with me, that's a good girl. You will
have a great deal better time in staying here
with me by a good fire."
Annie was not at all convinced by these
arguments, so her mother directed her to go
and look in the back-room, and perhaps she
would find her bonnet and shawl there. As
soon as Annie went out, Mrs. Linn opened a
cupboard and took out Annie's bonnet and
shawl, which she had known all the time to
be there, and stepping hastily across the room
where there stood a large old-fashioned clock,
she opened the door of the case below, and
putting the bonnet and shawl in, she hid them
securely there. She had just time to shut the
door, and go back to her work again, when
Annie came in, saying, in a mournful tone,
that she could not find her bonnet and shawl,
'and she did not know what she should do.
Mrs. Linn went on very busily with her


Her suspicions awakened. Annie conquers.

work, and said nothing, Annie, however,
soon perceived something peculiar in the ex-
pression of her mother's face, and came up to
her, saying:
Now, mother, you know where my bonnet
and shawl are, I verily believe."
Mrs. Linn said nothing, but ironed away, in
a very energetic manner.
"Now, mother !" said Annie, in a tone of
mournful entreaty. "You know where my
bonnet and shawl are, I am sure."
A lurking smile now appeared on Mrs.
Linn's face, though she said nothing, and
went on ironing, as before.
"Mother !" said Annie, "why can't you
tell me where my bonnet and shawl are ?"
Mrs. Linn put her flat-iron down and went to
the clock. She opened the door and took the
shawl and bonnet out, saying:
There, I suppose I shall have to let you go,
or else I shall have no peace. But you must
not stay long, and don't go near the water."
So Annie put on her bonnet and shawl and
ran off, saying, as she went: "No; I will be
very careful."
Of course, nothing could be better contrived
to teach a child to tease and importune her




Annie becomes careless and negligent. Ellen very unhappy.

mother, where her requests were denied, than
such a mode as this, of drawing her into a con-
test, and allowing her the victory in the end.
By these, and similar modes of management,
Annie, though naturally a very amiable, gen-
tle and affectionate child, had gradually lost
all sense of subordination to her mother's au-
thority. She was careless and negligent in all
her duties; her room and her drawers were in
constant disorder, and she was gradually be-
coming impatient of every species of control.
In fact, Annie was in a fair way of being
When Ellen came home to her mother's, af-
ter the death of her aunt, she was for many
days very disconsolate. The contrast was so
great, between the condition of things at her
aunt's and at her mother's, that she thought at
first, that she never could be happy at home.
She walked about the house, lonely and sad
She mourned the death of her father and of
her aunt, and was homesick to go back to the
happy fireside among the mountains, where
she had lived so long. '
At last, one day, about a week after the
funeral of her father, she had been helping
her mother in her work in the kitchen all the


Ellen resolves to be unhappy no longer.

afternoon, and was just thinking that it was
time to begin to get supper, when Annie came
into the room, looking weary and'forlorn, and
said that she wished that Ellen would give her
something to do. Ellen was sitting at the
time, by the side of the fire, looking into the
embers, and thinking of the happy days that
were past, now never to return. Her eyes
were full of tears. Annie came up to her, and
leaning against her lap, looked up into her
face and said,
"Ellen, I wish you would not be so un-
Ellen took Annie up into her lap.
"How can I help it, Annie dear ?" she
"I don't know," said Annie, but I wish
you would help it somehow or other."
Well, I will," said Ellen. I have been
unhappy long enough, and I will not be un-
happy any more. Come, you shall help me
get supper."
Well!" said Annie. Her face brightened
up as she spoke, with an expression of great
"The first thing," said Ellen, a is to build a
good fire."

Annie and Ellen go to work together. Their plans.
So Ellen and Annie went together out into
the shed to get some wood. Ellen let Annie
bring in a part, while she, herself, brought the
remainder. She allowed Annie to help her in
placing the wood on the fire. She could have
done it more easily herself alone, but she saw
that it pleased her sister to be permitted to
help her. Then Annie swept up the hearth,
and put the furniture in order in the room,
while Ellen began to set the table. In half
an hour the whole expression of the room was
changed, and as Ellen went about her work in
a joyous and happy manner, talking playfully
with Annie all the time, Annie soon became
as blithe and gay as she was wont to be.
Even Mrs. Linn, herself, who had been over-
whelmed with depression and sorrow, began
to look more cheerful than she had done at any
time, since her husband's death.
From this time, every thing improved very
rapidly at Mrs. Linn's. Ellen employed her-
self, every day, in putting some new room or
closet of the house in order. At first, she un-
dertook only such work in this respect, as she
and Annie could manage, and was very care-
ful to do nothing without first obtaining her
mother's approval. After a time, however,

Ellen's improvements in the housekeeping.

her mother began to be so much pleased with
the results which Ellen produced, that she be-
gan to help her in her work, and to propose
new undertakings,-until at last, in the course
of a fortnight, the whole house seemed to be
renovated from top to bottom. A great quan-
tity of useless rubbish was brought out and
burned; articles of clothing were arranged,
places for utensils were determined upon-
nails being driven up at convenient points
for such as would hang, and shelves designa-
ted for the rest. In a word, the whole house
gradually assumed such an appearance of
neatness and order, that Annie said it seemed
exactly like her Aunt Randon's.
One afternoon in March, Ellen and Annie
made a fire in the chamber where they slept,
intending to put every thing in order there.
This room was an attic room of course, for
the house was only one story high. It was,
however, a very pleasant room, and it had a
window in it. This window looked toward
the great gate which led out of the yard to
the road. After working a long time, and
putting every thing in order in the room,
Ellen and Annie stopped to rest. They went
together to the window, and Ellen sat down




Ellen's room. The furniture. Pictures.

in a straight-back rocking chair, which stood
there, and took Annie in her lap; and both
began to take a survey of the room.
In one side of the room there was a small
fireplace, where the fire which the children
had made was still burning. There was a
closet by the side of the fireplace, with draw-
ers and shelves in it, all of which were now
nicely arranged. Opposite to the fireplace,
and not very far from it, for the room was
small, was a bed. By the side of the bed,
stood a table with a looking-glass upon it.
The table was covered with a white cloth.
On the other side of the table was a blue
chest, which belonged to Annie. Her father
had made it for her. There was a trunk in
the room, too, near the door. This trunk be-
longed to Ellen. She had brought it homt
with her from her Aunt Randon's. There
were several pictures in plain frames hang-
ing on the walls of the room, and in one cor-
ner was a small set of hanging-shelves with
several books upon them.
As Annie took her seat upon Ellen's lap,
she looked around the room a minute or two
with a smile upon her face, and then said,
"l How pleasant it looks I"


---- -- --- ~Obedience.
Ellen's conversation with Annie. Obedience.
Yes said Ellen, we have put the room
in order. The difficulty is now to keep it in
Here there was a pause. Annie was think-
ing that that would be no difficulty at all.
"There is one thing more," said Ellen.
Now that I have come back to live at home
again, I shall wish to have you become a very
excellent, good girl."
"Yes," said Annie, "I will." Then after
a moment's pause she added, but how shall
I do it ?"
Why,.the first thing is," said Ellen, that
you must always obey mother."
Yes," said Annie, "I do. But Rodol-
phus does not obey her. He is very disobe-
dient. I think Rodolphus is very disobedient
But you do not always obey mother your-
self," said Ellen, "she is sometimes obliged
to speak to you a great many times before
you obey her."
"Well, that is because she does not make
me obey her," said Annie. I should obey
her if she would make me."
"What sort of a plan would it be," said
Ellen, for you to be my girl, and obey me "


Ellen goes to her trunk. Mrs. Randon's rules

Well," said Annie.
And that makes me think," said Ellen,
9" of Aunt Randon's rules. They are in my
So Ellen put Annie down from her lap and
went to her trunk, Annie going with her.
While she was unlocking and opening her
trunk, Annie went on with the conversation.
I should like to be your girl very much
indeed," said Annie, "and I will always obey
you exactly."
But the first command that I should give
you," said Ellen, "would be, that you should
always obey mother."
By this time Ellen had opened her trunk,
and reaching down to the bottom of it, she
took out a small square picture frame, about
as large in length and breadth as the palm of
a man's hand.
The frame itself was of some dark-colored
wood, highly polished. There was a glass in
it, and under the glass there was a paper
with a small picture above and something
printed below. The picture was a very pretty
one. On the left, there was a lady sitting un-
der a tree, in a wild place on the border of a
wood, reading. Before her there was a beau-


The picture. Children at play. The precipice.

tiful place to play,-smooth and green in the
middle, with safe rocks to climb up upon on
one side, and a great many flowers. There
were two young children playing here. They
were running about upon the grass, climbing
up the rocks, and gathering flowers. Beyond
this little green where the children were at
play, opposite to where their mother was read-
ing, and of course on the right-hand side of
the picture, there was an awful precipice



Meaning of the picture. The four rule.

which overhung a torrent that was to be seen
tumbling and foaming over the rocks below.
The meaning of the picture was, that these
children were perfectly safe, though they were
playing so near the brink of the precipice, and
their mother could read without giving herself
any concern about them, simply because they
were obedient. She had told them how far
they might go, and was confident that they
would confine themselves strictly to the limits
which she had assigned them.
The printing under this picture was as fol-
When you consent, consent cordially;
When you refuse, refuse finally.

Commend often: never scold.

Annie began to read these rules, and though
she proceeded slowly and with difficulty, she
at length came to the end.
"What does it all mean ?" said she.
"They are Aunt Randon's rules," said El-
len. "They show what I must do, to take
care of you, if you are going to be my girl."
How ?" said Annie; and so she began to


Explanation of the several rules.

read the rules over again, one by one, for El-
len to explain them.
"(When you consent, consent cordially," said
Annie, reading,
That means," said Ellen, that when you
come to ask me to let you go anywhere, or do
any thing, I must not answer hastily, but con-
sider the objections first myself, and if I think
on the whole that I will let you go, I must say
"yes" willingly, without troubling you about
the objections. For instance, if you ask me to
let you go out and play some day when you are
not very well, and I consider that on the whole
I should be willing to let you go, I must not
say, 'Why, Annie, I would not go if I were
you. You are not well, and perhaps you might
take cold; and, besides, it is not very pleasant.
But still you may go, if you wish to go very
much.' "
"What must you say, then ?" said Annie.
"I must say, 'Yes, I think it will be safe;
and you will have a very good time, I have
no doubt. You must be dressed warm, and
then I think there will be no danger.' "
Yes," said Annie, I would a great deal
rather that you would say that."
"That is what my Aunt Randon used to say."




The second rule. The third rule. Annie's opinion.

And now the next rule," said Annie.
So Annie went on to to read the next rule
as follows,
When you refuse, refusefnally."
"And what does that mean ?" said she.
"It means," replied Ellen, "that if, after
thinking of the subject, I conclude that it is
not best for you to go, and once say so, that
must end the matter. You must not ask me
any more to let you go,-and if you do, I must
not alter my decision."
Annie was silent. She hardly knew what
to think of such a rule as this.
How do you like that rule ?" said Ellen.
"Pretty well," said Annie, but not so
well as the other."
Annie then proceeded to read the third
Commend often: never scold."
"That's a good rule," said Annie. "I don't
like to be scolded. But what does commend
mean ?"
"It means praise-not exactly praise either.
It means that if you try to be a good girl, I
must be pleased with you, and let you see that
I' am pleased."
"Yes," said Anne, I think that is a good


Talk about Beechnut. Beechnut is seen coming.

rule. They are all good rules; and it is a
beautiful picture at the top of them."
"Yes," said Ellen, "and I think it is a very
pretty frame. Beechnut made this frame."
"Did he ?" said Annie. "Beechnut lives
at Mrs. Henry's."
Yes," said Ellen. He used to come up
and see me sometimes at Aunt Randon's."
Mrs. Henry's house was about a mile from
the place where Annie lived;-beyond the
village. Ellen's Aunt Randon's was still fur-
ther off, among the mountains. Annie and
her brother Rodolphus sometimes stopped at
Mrs. Henry's to see Beechnut, and Phonny,
Mrs. Henry's son, on their way to their aunt's.
So Annie knew Beechnut very well.
It happened singularly enough, that while
Ellen and Annie were thus talking about
Beechnut, they heard a sound in the yard as
if some one were opening the great gate, and
on looking out the window, they saw Beechnut
himself and Phonny, in a wagon, coming in.
Annie jumped down from Ellen b lap and
ran to meet the visitors. Elhen followed, going
more slowly but not less joyously. How it
happened that Beechnut came just at this
juncture will be explained in the next chapter.

Mrs. Henry's. Phonny's plan for flying his kite.



IT happened that on the same afternoon
that Ellen Linn and Annie held the conversa-
tion in their chamber, which is described in
the last chapter, and just about the time that
they were making the fire there, before they
commenced their work, Alphonzo Henry, or
as he was more commonly called Phonny,
came out to the door of his mother's house
with a kite string in his hand. He was going
to fly his kite.
It may seem strange, that Phonny should
choose such an amusement as flying his kite,
in the winter. But it was not very cold that
day, although it was winter. The weather
nad been quite warm for several days, and
there had been a great thaw. Water was
running over the roads in every direction.
The grounds all about the house were very
wet, and broad and shallow pools of water
were standing here and there, with ice and



Warm place on the roof of the shed. Beechnut.

snow, instead of sand and pebbles, at the bot-
tom of them. Phony was glad to see this,
for he expected to have abundance of good
skating when all this water should freeze;-
but in the mean time, such a state of things
was quite inconvenient for him, as it was so
wet that he could hardly step out of doors.
The sun was shining very pleasantly and
yet there was quite a breeze blowing, from
the north. Phonny had a plan of climbing
up upon the roof of a shed, where there was
a fine shelter on the north made by other
buildings which rose higher than the shed on
that side, and formed a warm corner on the
roof. This corner was sheltered from the
north, and being open to the south, the sun
shone in upon it in a very pleasant manner.
When Phonny came out upon the step,
holding, as has been said, his kite string in
his hand, he saw Beechnut out by the barn,
opening the great barn doors.
Beechnut," said Phonny, are you going
away anywhere ?"
Yes," said Beechnut, I am going to mill."
May I go with you ?" asked Phonny.
Beechnut did not answer, but went on
pushing open the great door.

Beechnut concludes to let Phonny go with him to the mill.

Beechnut," said Phonny again.
"What," said Beechnut.
May I go with you ?"
I am thinking," said Beechnut.
Beechnut was in fact considering the ques-
tion, whether it would be best for Phonny to
go, or not. He had a great many bags of
grain to carry, and the roads were bad. He
thought at first that his load would be quite
heavy enough for the horse, without Phonny.
Then besides he was going in the wagon, for
the roads were bare in many places, so that
the sleigh would not run well, and he was
afraid that if the wagon should be loaded too
heavily, it might upset. Notwithstanding
these objections, however, he finally conclud-
ed that he would let Phonny go, as he knew
that Phonny would wish to go, very much.
At length, therefore, he called out Yes.
"And may I take my fishing-pole, too?"
said Phonny, still calling out in a loud voice,
for Beechnut was at a considerable distance.
"I expect the ice has broken up before the
mill," he added, and perhaps I can catch a
pickerel while the grist is grinding."
SThere was a moment's pause, during which,
Phonny stood upon the step of the door, with



Request about the fishing-pole. Harnessing.

a very eager and earnest expression upon his
countenance, and with his head turned a little
to one side, that his ear might the better catch
the expected answer.
May I?" he repeated.
No," said Beechnut.
"Why not ?" asked Phonny.
I will tell you why not, as we go along on
the way," said Beechnut. So saying, he went
into the barn, and disappeared.
Phonny went into the house and put on his
coat, and then went out through the shed into
the barn. He found Beechnut at work har-
nessing the horse and wagon. Phonny imme-
diately went to work hooking the traces and
buckling up the straps, and then he helped
Beechnut heave in the heavy bags of grain.
When all was ready, the two boys mounted
into the wagon, and taking their seats upon
the top of the bags, they rode out of the barn
As soon as they had thus started, Beechnut
saw that Phonny had his fishing-line in his
hand. Phonny had had it all the time. He
had held it under his arm while he had been
harnessing the horse.
"What is that ?" said Beechnut.
"My fishing-line," said Phonny.


ELLFEx Lmiqv

Conversation on the road. Plan of going IV Mrs. Linn's
But I said you must not bring your fishing-
line," said Beechnut.
"l No," said Phonny, it was my pole. 1
asked you if I might bring my pole."
Beechnut laughed.
"And now tell me," said Phonny, "why
you could not let me bring my pole, so as to
fish while the grist is grinding."
Because," said Beechnut, I am not going
to stay at the mill while the grist is grinding.
I am going down to Ellen Linn's."
Phonny hardly knew whether he was satis-
fied with this explanation or not, for he could
not quite decide whether he should prefer to
go to Ellen Linn's with Beechnut, or to re-
main.behind, fishing below the mill.
In the mean time, the boys rode along stead-
ily, though very slowly, on the way to the
village. At length they came to the mill.
Phonny was very much pleased to see that
below the dam, and between the dam and the
bridge, the water was almost entirely open.
There was a path leading down to the water,
just below the mill, and as soon as the wagon
stopped, Phonny jumped out, and said that he
was going down to the water, to play there till
Beechnut was ready to go on.



Phonny goes down to see the ice.
Very well," said Beechnut, only be care-
ful of the ice. Do not go on any ice till you
have first proved it to be strong."
Perhaps Beechnut would not have consent-
ed so readily that Phonny should go down to
the stream, if he had not known that the wa-
ter there was very shallow in every part, so
that all that was to be feared was a wetting,
in case Phonny should in any way chance to
fall in.
Phonny went down to the shore. The water
was open in the middle of the stream, not only
between the dam and the bridge, but also for
some distance below the bridge, as Phonny
could see by looking under the bridge between
the piers. There was a great deal of ice,
however, along the shores, and on the margin
of the stream. In one place there was a large
and very thick cake of ice lodged against the
shore, at a sort of point of land, which there
projected a little into the stream.
I think that cake of ice is strong enough
to bear me," said Phonny, to himself. "But
Beechnut said that 1 must prove it."
So he took up a large stone, half as large as
his head, and swinging it with all his force, he
threw it out upon the cake of ice. The stone



Beechnut at the mill. Phonny. An alarm.
came down with a sort of crash upon the soft
snow, which formed the upper surface, but did
not break through. It remained on the ice
very near the spot where it had fallen. The
ice was, in fact, nearly a foot thick.
Yes," said Phonny, "it is strong enough
to bear twenty men." So saying, he stepped
over upon the ice, and walked out toward the
outer edge of it.
In the mean time, Beechnut had been at
work in taking out the bags of grain from the
wagon, and carrying them into the mill. The
miller helped him lift them. Then Beechnut
helped the miller open the bags and pour the
grain out into the hoppers which led to the
machinery, where the grain was to be ground.
After having finished this work, Beechnut
came to the door of the mill, intending to go
and call Phonny, when his attention was ar-
rested by loud outcries coming up from the
water. Phonny was shouting as loud as he
could, and in a tone, expressive of the utmost
distress and terror.
"Beechnut I Beechnut I Ah-h--h I Ah-
h-h Beechnut I Ah-h-h I"
,Beechnut ran down the bank. The great



Phonny adrift. His terror. Beechnut's composure.

cake of ice with Phonny upon it was slowly
sailing out into the stream.
"Ah-h Beechnut I" cried Phonny, scream-
ing, "I am sailing away, what shall I do?
Come quick. Oh come quick "
"That is nothing," said Beechnut.
What is nothing I" said Phonny, still ap
parently very much terrified.
Why, sailing away on such a cake of ice
as that. Push in ashore here, and let me get
on, too."
Why I can't push it in to the shore," said
Phonny. I don't know how I shall ever get
it to the shore again. What shall I do ?"
Beechnut knew very well that Phonny
could not push in to the shore. His saying
that was only intended to show that he was
not himself alarmed about Phonny's situa-
tion. His words had the effect that he in-
tended. Phonny was at once relieved of his
extreme terror, and yet he felt a great anxie-
ty still.
Beechnut took his seat upon a rock on the
shore, and assumed an attitude of great com-
posure. The ice in the mean time having
floated very Alowly out into the stream, seem-
ed to be undecided which way to go. It was,



Beechnut proposes several plans.
however, very slowly moving down toward
the bridge.
Oh dear me," said Phonny, "what shall
I do ?"
There are plenty of ways of getting to
the shore," said Beechnut. All you have
to do is to choose which you think is best."
"What ways ?" said Phonny.
"Why, the first way is," said Beechnut,
"for you to step off into the water, and wade
to the shore at once. It is not much deeper
than your knees."
Oh, Beechnut," said Phonny, "it is up to
my middle."
"Well," said Beechnut, "you can wade
in water that is up to your middle easily
But it is dreadfully cold," said Phonny.
"What other way is there ?"
You can wait till you float down to the
bridge," said Beechnut. "I presume you
will go down there pretty soon, and then when
you are shooting under it, you can seize hold
of the timbers, and so climb up to the top of
the bridge."
" Oh, no," said Phonny, "I should not dare
to do that."



More plans proposed. Phonny is drifting away.

"Then," said Beechnut, you can wait till
you have floated down through all the open
water, till you come to the solid ice down
the stream. It is not far."
As he said this, Beechnut looked under the
bridge to see how far the open water extend-
ed. "No," he added, "you would not have
to sail very far."
No," said Phonny, "I should not dare to
do that. I could not get off my cake of ice.
I should fall in among the loose pieces, where
the water is deeper than it is here."
"Then," said Beechnut, "you might sail
down on the ice as far as it goes, and stay
there until I can get a boat and come and
take you off."
And how long will that be asked Phon-
Oh, not more than half an hour, I should
think," said Beechnut.
"Oh, no," said Phonny, "I can't stay on
the ice so long as that."
By this time the ice on which Phonny was
floating was beginning to have quite a decid-
ed tendency down the stream. The water
ran more and more rapidly, as it approached
the bridge; and under the bridge the current



Beechnut orders the line to be thrown ashore.
was very swift indeed. The ice was now
turning slowly round, and gradually advan-
cing into this current.
"Oh dear me said Phonny, "I am go-
"Have you got your fishing-line in your
pocket ?" said Beechnut.
Yes," said Phonny. So saying he felt
eagerly in his pockets and took out the line.
Here it is," said he.
Throw it over here to the shore," said
Phonny threw the line to the shore. The
line was wound upon a short stick, so as to
form a missile that could be easily thrown
through the air. Beechnut picked it up and
began immediately to unwind it. He let the
line as fast as he unwound it fall down upon
the shore, where it lay in a sort of loose coil
When it was all unwound, Beechnut broke off
the end from the stick on which the line had
been wound, and then picking up a small
white stone from the beach, he tied it to the
end of the line. Then taking the stone in his
hand, and standing on one side so as to leave
the line clear, he tossed the stone over into
the stream beyond the cake of ice in such a

Phonny rescued from his peri


manner, that the stone fell into the water and
the line fell across the ice.
"There," said Beechnut, as soon as he had
made the throw, "take up the line and hold
Phonny did so. Beechnut at the same time
took hold of the end of the line which lay
upon the shore.
"Now pull gently," said Beechnut.
So Phonny pulled gently, while Beechnut



How Phonny got adrift. Phonny not to blame.
at his end of the line pulled gently too. The
ice soon began to feel the influence of the new
force thus made to act upon it, and was brought
gradually round in a great circle to the shore,
at a place some distance below where Phonny
had first embarked. As soon as the edge of
the ice touched the shore, Phonny jumped off
safely to the land.
Now," said Beechnut, wind up the fish-
ing-line, and then come up to the wagon."
When they got seated in the wagon and
were riding along, Phonny said that he did
not see what made the cake of ice float away.
"It rested on the shore," said Phonny,
'"before I got upon it, and I thought that my
going on it would press it down more."
"Yes," said Beechnut, "but I suppose that
when you went out upon it toward the outer
edge, your weight pressed that side down
and lifted the other side up a little, so as to
loosen it from the shore; and that set it
"I did not suppose that there was any
danger," said Phonny. "But I got punished
"I don't think you were to blame at all,"
said Beechnut,-" or scarcely at all. You



Beechnut and Phonny arrive at Mrs. Lnn's.
were punished too much. You were fright-
ened, and that is the worst kind of suffer-
"Yes," said Phonny, "I think it is."
"I think you suffered more than enough for
your fault that time, and I have an idea," said
Beechnut, of letting it go for your next pun-
"Well," said Phonny, very joyously.
Just at this point they arrived at the great
gate which led into Mr. Linn's yard. This
gate was usually kept open in the winter,
but now the snow had thawed so much that
Rodolphus had shut it that morning, and so
Phonny got out of the wagon and opened it
to let Beechnut drive through.
Beechnut and Phonny went to the house.
Ellen and Annie met them at the door and
invited them in. They sat down in the kitchen
and talked together a long time. Phonny
gave Annie and Ellen a very animated account
of his floating away on the cake of ice, and
of Beechnut's saving him by a stone and a
string. As he came to the end of his account,
he put his hand into his pocket, and taking
out the smooth, white pebble which Beechnut
had used, he.concluded by saying,



The rules Annie brings them to Beechnut.
And there is the very stone now. I am
going to keep it."
Oh, what a pretty white stone," said An-
nie. I wish you would give it to me."
"Well," said Phonny, "I will give it to
Annie then told Phonny about her Aunt
Randon's rules. They were in a picture-
frame, she said, and there was a picture at
the top. Phonny wished to see the picture,
and so Annie said that she would go up-stairs
and bring it down. Ellen made no objection
to this. In fact, she was secretly pleased at
the idea of having Beechnut see that she had
taken such good care of the frame that he had
made for her.
So Annie brought down the frame and
showed it to Phonny. Then she brought it to
Beechnut, saying,
See, Beechnut, I am going to be Ellen's
girl, and there are the rules that she is going
to govern me by."
Ah 1" said Beechnut: "Let me read
So saying, Beechnut took the frame out of
Annie's hands. He looked at it attentively,
and said,

One rule missing. Conversation about punishment.

Why, Ellen, I did not know that you had
kept this so long."
Yes," said Ellen. Aunt Randon valued
it very much, and she gave it to me before
she died."
"Read the rules, Beechnut," said Annie.
So Beechnut read the rules.

When you consent, consent cordially;
When you refuse, refuse finally.

Commend often: never scold.

"Very good rules," said Beechnut, "only
there is nothing said about punishment.
There must be some punishment in a good
government, and there ought to be some rule
about that."
"No," said Aniie, I don't like to be pun-
"But there is no getting along without
punishment," said Beechnut. Besides," he
added, "you will observe whenever you have
done any thing wrong, you never feel really
easy in mind about it, until you have been
punished for it. I will put in a rule about
punishment. There is just room for it before
the last line."



Beechnut supplies the missing rule.

Oh no," said Annie, it will spoil it."
"How will it spoil it ?" asked Beechnut.
"Why, that is all printed," said Annie,
" and it will not look well to see writing in
among the print."
But I will print the new rule just like the
rest," said Beechnut. "I printed the others."
Annie was very much astonished to hear
this, but it was true. In fact the whole was
Beechnut's work. He had made the picture
and printed the rules under it. He had also
made the frame and cut out the glass to go
over the paper. He learned to do such things
iu France, before he came to America.
Ellen said that she should like to have the
rule about punishment in, very much.
But why did not you put it in before I"
said she.
"I left a space for it," said Beechnut, but
I did not put it in, because I knew it would
be useless for Mrs. Randon."
Why ?" asked Annie.
Ah I you must guess why," said Beechnut.
Ellen knew very well that Beechnut meant
that it would never be necessary for her Aunt
Randon to punish her. But Annie could not
understand what he meant.



The rules complete. Search for a prison.

In the mean time, Beechnut took out the
little wooden pins behind the picture, and
thus freed the paper from the frame. Then
he took a pen which Ellen brought him, and
seating himself at a table that was near, he
printed in the fourth rule, in the blank space,
between the second and third. There were
then four rules, and they read as follows:-

When you consent, consent cordially.
When you refuse, refuse finally.
When you punish, punish good-naturedly.
Commend often: never scold.

"Now," said he, "we must decide what
kind of punishment Annie's shall be. I think
it will be best to put her in prison. Let us
look about and find some place that will do
for a prison for her."
So they all went to look about the room to
find some place that would do for a prison.
Annie was as much interested in this search
as any of the party. Various places were
proposed, one after another, but there seemed
to be some good reason against them all.
Annie recommended the clock-case. There
was just room for her to get inside, she said,
and then besides she could have the pendu-



The clock-case. Prison place found. Mode of punishment

lum to play with, while she was shut up in
prison. The clock was out of order and did
not go, but the weights and the pendulum
were there, all in their places, though motion-
less-the weights at the sides, and the pendu-
lum in the middle. Annie thought that this
machinery might furnish her with some occu-
pation in her imprisonment, but Beechnut and
Ellen thought that the clock-case would not do.
At last they found a place under a shelf in
a closet, which they thought would answer
very well. Ellen found a little footstool,
which she put in, in the corner, for Annie to
sit upon.
Now," said Beechnut, the first time you
disobey Ellen or your mother, you must come
to this prison and stay there till you count
"I can't count twenty," said Annie.
How many can you count P" said Beech-
Ten," said Annie.
"Well, count ten twice then," said Beech-
nut. "That will do just as well as counting
twenty. And if you wish for a pendulum in
your prison, I can make you one. I can make
it with yo&r white stone."

The white stone. Vibrations. Beechnut's admonitions
So Beechnut took the white stone, and tied
a string round it in a very secure manner, and
then attached the other end of the string to a
small nail, which he drove in on the under
side of the shelf, opposite to the place where
Annie was to sit. Annie was then told that
when she was sent to prison, she was to sit
upon the footstool, and set the pendulum in
motion, and then count the vibrations. When
she had counted ten vibrations she was to be-
gin again, and count ten more,-and that was
to be the end of her punishment.
Beechnut then told Annie that if she would
always submit to her punishment like a good
girl, and go to the prison whenever Ellen
directed her to go, he would fit up her prison
in a much more comfortable manner, the next
time he came.
"Prisons used to be miserable places, for-
merly," said Beechnut, but they have made
a great many improvements in modem times,
and if you are a good girl, and always submit
to your punishment, I will fit up your prison
with the modern improvements, the next time
I come."
So Beechnut went away, and after he was
gone, Ellen and Annie went to work preparing

EL~imi Liiqzf


Annie likes the plan of the prison.

to get supper. Annie was in hopes that she
should do something wrong pretty soon, as she
was in haste to try her prison.
There will be a picture of this prison, as it
appeared after it was fitted up with Beech-
nut's improvements, in the next chapter.

Description of Annie's prison. The shelves above.



BEE~HUT did not forget the promise that he
made in respect to improvements in Annie's
The shelves that were directly over the place
where Annie was to sit, in undergoing punish-
ment, were set apart for her playthings-all
except the upper shelf, which was too high for
her to reach, in any way. This upper shelf
had a curtain before it, which hid it so that
Annie could not see what was there. Annie
could reach the two lower shelves by means
of a short ladder, which Beechnut made for
her. On this lowest shelf of all, Annie kept
her work-basket. At the end of this shelf, too,
there was a small square piece of carpet, which
was used as a bed for Annie's kitten. On the
shelf above, Annie kept her books, and also a
square box, which Ellen gave her. Some of
the books were standing up, and some lying
down upon their side. Annie had a long-



Annie's dipper. Rule respecting it. The cushion.

handled dipper, which she used to play with
at the spring. This dipper was a very favor-
ite play thing
of Annie's. El-
len had given ( ____
it to her to play
with, on the ex-
press condition
that she should
bring it in ev-
ery day when
she had done
playing with it,
and hang it on
its nail. The
place foritwas
over the low-
er shelf, where
there was a
small nail driven into the wall, to hang it
Beechnut made a cushion too for the stool
that Annie was to sit upon in her prison. He
made this cushion by means of a strip of car-
pet and some very fine and soft hay. He
nailed the carpet firstto the three sides of the
stool, leaving the fourth side open. The car-



Mode of making the cushion. The punishment ecacioua.

pet too, when nailed on, lay very loosely upon
the top of the stool, so as to make a sort of bag
with one side open. Beechnut then stuffed the
hay into the open side, taking care to dis-
tribute it evenly within, so as to make a cushl-
ion, and finally he nailed the open side of the
carpet down. Thus the cushion was complete,
and Annie could sit upon it very comfortably,
while undergoing imprisonment.
It might perhaps be supposed that to sit
on such a seat as this, and count twice ten
vibrations of the pendulum, would be an
amusement rather than a punishment, and
that it would have no efficacy at all as a pen-
alty for wrong-doing. But it proved in reali-
ty to be very efficacious. It is astonishing
how small a punishment will suffice in the
training of a child, if it is only uniformly and
faithfully enforced. At first Annie did in-
deed find it only an amusement to go to her
prison. As soon, however, as the novelty was
gone, it became a trouble to her to leave her
play and go and sit upon her stool under the
shelf and count the vibrations. It is true that
it took only a very few minutes to do it,-but
even those few minutes Antie did not like to



Ellen's fear. Her custom in putting Annie to bed.
In fact Ellen expected that Annie would
sometimes refuse to go to her punishment, and
at first she did not know what she should do
if such cases should occur, for she had no
means of compelling her to go. Indeed she
felt as if she had no right to compel her to
It is probable, in fact, that Annie would
have refused to submit to her punishment,
long before she did, had it not been for the
influence of the commendation which Ellen
bestowed upon her for her obedience, when
she did go.
For example, Ellen was always accustomed
when she went up-stairs at night, for the pur-
pose of putting Annie to bed, to talk with her
and amuse her, telling her stories, answering
her questions, explaining things to her that
she did not understand, and finally, just be-
fore Annie was ready to go to sleep, hearing
her repeat her evening prayer. Now it hap-
pened that on the evening of the first day
after the prison had been established, Annie
had gone to it three times, at Ellen's com-
mand, though the last time she had gone to
it slowly and reluctantly. That night just



Ellen's conversation with Annie at night

before Annie was to say her prayer, Ellen said
to her,
You have been a good girl to-day, to sub-
mit to your punishment. Whenever I sent
you to prison, you always went. That was
right. It is a great deal of trouble to you I
know, to leave your play and go and sit in
that gloomy place and count the swinging of
the pendulum, and there is nothing to make
you go but your own sense of duty. If you
were to refuse to go I should not do any thing
to you. Only I should feel unhappy about
it all the day, and you would feel unhappy
too. You would feel unhappy more or less
all day, and at night when you lie down in
your bed to say your prayer and go to sleep,
you would feel more guilty and self-con-
demned even than you had during the day.
I am glad you obeyed and submitted to your
punishment. It was a trouble to you at the
time,--but now you feel satisfied and hap-
Yes," said Annie, "and I mean to go
and submit to my punishment every time."
"That is right," said Ellen. "I have sent
you to prison three times to-day, and you
obeyed every time, and twice you went immc



The evening prayer. Ellen's plans for amusing Annie.
diatey and without making any objection, in
exactly the right way."
Ellen said nothing in respect to the case in
which Annie hesitated and delayed, when
about going to her prison, knowing how much
more influence we can exert over others by
commending them when they do right, than
by censuring them when they do wrong.
Yes," said Annie, "and after this I mean
to go immediately every time."
At the close of this conversation, Annie re-
peated her evening prayer, and then Ellen
bade her good night and left her to go to
There was another way by which Ellen ob-
tained a great influence r Annie, and that
was by doing a great deal to amuse her and
promote her happiness almost every hour of
the day. She was always on the watch to
contrive some means for doing this. When
Annie was in the room where Ellen was at
work, Ellen would talk with her, tell her little
stories, explain what she herself was doing and
why she was doing it, and thus constantly
occupy and amuse Annie's mind. She allow-
ed Annie to help her a great deal in her
work, and she did this in many cases where



Elen allows Annie to help her. The appls.
Annie's co-operation was in reality a hin-
drance rather than a help. If to be allowed to
participate in what Ellen was doing would
please Annie and occupy her mind, and so in-
crease Ellen's influence over her, Ellen was
always willing to submit to any little inconve-
nience which it might occasion herself.
For example she would say,
"Now, Annie, I am going down cellar to
get some apples. Could you go down with
me to carry the candle, and help me choose
some good ones ?"
Annie, of course, was always greatly pleased
with any such commission as this. And al-
though her carrying the candle and helping
to choose the ape rendered Ellen no real
service, yet Ellen was always much pleased
to have.her go, since she saw how much An-
nie herself was gratified in being thus em-
Notwithstanding the power, however, which
Ellen contrived by these and similar means to
exercise over Annie's mind, and the promises
which Annie made always to obey when she
was sent to prison, she once or twice refused
to go. She was playing, for example, one
sunny morning in March with Rodolphus on



A place to play on the rocks. Annie's mother call her.

the rocks back of her mother's house, in a
warm and pleasant corner, which was so shel-
tered from the wind, and so open to the .sun,
that the snow had disappeared entirely from
it, and the ground had become dry.
Rodolphus and Annie had collected sticks
and chips from the ground around, and had
built a small fire there, in a little recess in the
rocks which they called their chimney. While
the children were in the midst of this play,
Mrs. Linn coming to the back-door of the
house, and seeing Annie on the rocks with
Rodolphus, and thinking it possible that she
might do some mischief, or get into some dif-
ficulty there, called to her to come down.
Oh, no, mother," said Annie, "let me
stay here a little while with Rodolphus."
No," said her mother, "you must come
"I would not go down," said Rodolphus.
"She won't care."
Annie was much perplexed and distressed
by these conflicting injunctions. She wished
very much to stay; but she was unwilling to
disobey her mother. She looked first at the
little fire which Rodolphus was making, and
which was just beginning to burn, and then



Annie disobeys. Ellen comes to bring Annie down.

down to the door of the house where her
mother was standing. She was very much at
a loss what to do.
Mrs. Linn stood a minute at the door, and
then went in.
"There," said Rodolphus, "she has gone
So Annie remained and continued to play
with Rodolphus.
Rodolphus was right in his opinion, that if
Annie were to remain with him his mother
would not care. She did not care. She had
a momentary feeling when she saw Annie on
the rocks so high, that she would prefer to
have her come in, and so she called her. But
this feeling passed away very soon, and Mrs.
Linn, when she went into the house, forgot
entirely that she had given Annie any such
In a few minutes, however, Ellen, who had
heard what had passed, came up the rocks
to where Annie was playing, and said to
Come, Annie, mother said that you must
come down."
"No," said Annie, "I want to stay up here
a little while with Rodolphus."



Annie Is out of humor. She refuses to submit to her punishment.

"Come," said Ellen. As she spoke, she
took Annie by the hand and began to lead
her down the path toward the house. Annie
went very reluctantly, and seemed much out
of humor.
"I wish you would ask my mother," said
she, to let me stay up there a little longer."
"Perhaps I will," said Ellen, "but you
must obey her first. Obey first, and ask af-
terward. That is the best rule. Then, be-
sides, you have got to be punished, you know,
for disobeying."
But Annie seemed more and more out of
humor. On reaching the house, she sat down
upon the step of the door and would not go
in; and when Ellen told her that she must
go to her prison and be punished for disobe-
dience, she said,
No; I shall not go to my punishment-I
am not going to my punishment any more."
Ellen said nothing, but went into the house
and resumed her work. In about ten minutes
she came back to the door. She found Annie
sitting on the step just where she had left
Annie," said she, "are you willing to go
to your punishment, now I"



Ellen lntercedes with her mother. Consent obtained.
No," said Annie.
"I am very sorry," said Ellen. "You
promised me that you would always go to
your punishment, and I am very sorry that
you break your promise. But I will ask
mother to let you go up on the rocks, never-
So Ellen went in and told Mrs. Linn that
she had been up upon the rocks, and that it
seemed a safe place there for Annie to play,
and asked permission for Annie to go up again,
and stay there with Rodolphus a little while.
Why yes," said Mrs. Linn, if you think
it is a safe place for her."
So Ellen went to Annie again, and taking
her by the hand, she began to lead her up
upon the rocks.
"I have asked motherto let you go," said
Ellen, and she says yes, and I hope that you
will have a good time, but I do not think you
woi have a good time."
"Why not ?" said Annie.
"Why you will be thinking continually," said
Ellen, "that you have been disobeying mother,
and breaking your promise to me, and that will
make you feel guilty and unhappy."
Annie was silent. She knew not what to say.



Two mts of disobedience. Annie rebel.
If you do feel unhappy," continued Ellen,
"while you are here, and conclude that you
had better submit to your punishment, after
all, you can come down and tell me; only now
you will have to be punished twice instead of
"What for asked Annie.
Once for disobeying mother, and once for
disobeying me," said Ellen. You disobeyed
mother in not coming down when she called
you, and you disobeyed me in not going to
your punishment for it."
Annie was silent. She saw that she was
accumulating guilt by this persistence in
wrong, but she could not humble her pride
and submit. So Ellen left her with Rodolphus,
and went down.
Ellen herself now felt quite anxious and un-
happy: She began to be afraid that she had
come to the end of her influence over her sis-
ter. As long as Annie would submit to be
punished when she disobeyed, Ellen continued
to have hope that she would gradually be re-
formed ;--but now she seemed to have broken
away wholly from her sister's authority, and
Ellen did not see what more she could do.
By-and-by Rodolphus and Annie became



Elen is very much discouraged. Conversaion.
tired of playing on the rocks, and Annie came
down into the house again She had recover-
ed her good-humor, and she came in singing.
Ellen was sitting at a window at work. She.
was sewing. Annie came up to her and be-
gan to talk to her. Ellen, however, said very
little in reply. She seemed thoughtful and
"What is the matter with you, Ellen ?"
asked Annie.
"Don't you know what is the matter with
me ?" said Ellen.
No," said Annie.
"It makes me feel unhappy, to find that
you are not going to be my girl any more."
"But I am going to be your girl," said
"No," said Ellen, "you will not obey me.
You will not submit to your punishment, as
you promised me you would do, and so I can
not consider you as my girl, any more."
"But I am going to submit to my punish-
ment the next time," said Annie. "That was
only once. The next time I shall go to my
punishment immediately."
"No," said Ellen, "I shall not ask you to
go any more. I can't have you for my girl,



Annie oomes to Ellen. Ellen can not help her.
and let you obey me when you please, and
when you don't please, disobey."
Annie stood a moment by Ellen's side, with
a very serious expression upon her counte-
nance, but without speaking a word. At
length she drew a very long breath, like a sigh,
and said:
"Ellen, what shall I do, now ?"
She meant to ask what she should do for
"I don't know," said Ellen, speaking in
rather a mournful tone.
Can't you think of any thing for me to do ?"
asked Annie.
I don't take any pleasure in trying to think
of any thing," replied Ellen. Yesterday I
did, for then you were a good girl, and obey-
ed me. But to-day it is different. Every
time I see you, it makes me feel unhappy. If
you could find any thing to do to amuse your-
self, and would go away to some other place
to do it, I should like it better than to have
you stay here, and then; perhaps I should for-
get all about your disobedience,-at least for
a little while."
Annie, thus repulsed, went away to see if
she could find Rodolphus or her mother, but



Annie goes to bed. Conversation at her bedade.
her mind was ill at ease. The whole day
passed without any material change. Ellen
was silent and sad, and Annie felt as if she
were friendless and alone.
Evening came, and at the usual time, which
was about half-past seven o'clock, Ellen went
up to put Annie to bed. There was nobody
but Annie and Ellen at home. Their mother
had gone to the village, and Rodolphus was
out somewhere at play.
While Ellen was undressing her sister, and
putting her to bed, she said to her in a very
kind and gentle voice,
"I suppose you have not had a very happy
day, and I don't suppose you feel very happy
now. I am sorry for it. I would very gladly
have gone and taken your punishment for
you, if I could."
"I suppose," said Annie, timidly, "that
the place under the shelf is not big enough
for you to get in."
"That is not what I mean," said Ellen.
"I should not have cared for that difficulty.
If punishing myself for your fault would have
answered, I would have done it very gladly.
And if you had gone yourself, how much
better it would have been. The trouble would



A text quoted. Annie's excuse Ellen's opianio
have been all over in five minutes, whereas
now you have made yourself and me unhap-
py all day, and I suppose you don't feel very
happy now."
"Not very," said Annie, in a low voice.
And then besides," said Ellen, there is
another trouble. It is time now for you to
say your evening-prayer, and the Bible says:
'If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord
will not hear my prayer.' It is a sad thing
to displease God, so that he will not hear our
prayers. Who else can take care of us V"
Annie was silent.
But, Ellen," she said again, after a mo-
ment's pause, I wanted to stay up there a
little while with Rodolphus very much."
"Yes," said Ellen, "but you disobeyed
mother in staying."
But I did not think," added Annie, that
mother cared much about my coming down."
"She did not," said Ellen. "She cared
very little about it. Still you disobeyed
"And then I went down, too, immediately
when you came for me."
True," said Ellen, "but still you disobey-
ed mother."



Annie's prayer. Ellen bids her good-night.
Annie was silent.
"And now," said Ellen, "I don't know
that there is any thing more that I can do for
you to-night, and so you may say your prayer
and then I will go down."
By this time Annie had been put into bed,
and Ellen, taking her seat upon a large chair
which stood by the side of the bed, put her
arms about Annie's neck and drew Annie's
cheek close to her own, as if she pitied her,
and loved her more than ever. It was some
time before Annie began to repeat her prayer.
Her heart told her that it was only a mockery
to attempt to pray while she was persisting in
wrong. At length, however, she began, and
though her voice was weak and trembling,
she went through to the end.
Ellen remained a few minutes longer at her
side, and then at last, kissing her again and
again, in a manner more affectionate than
usual, she bade her good-night, and taking
the candle she went down stairs.
Although the day had been pretty warm
and pleasant, the evening was cold, and there
was a blazing fire in the fireplace of the
kitchen. The floor and the hearth were bright
and clean, and the light of the fire shone over


ELLcN LigwoI

The prospect out the window. Annie calls.

them in a very cheerful manner. The room
was all in excellent order, too. Ellen went to
one of the windows, and lifting up the cur-
tain, she looked out to see if her mother was
coming. There was a bright moon shining
upon the patches of snow that were lying in
the yard, and upon the gate, and upon the
road beyond, but all was solitary and still.
Ellen then put the curtain down, and went
back to the fire. She drew up a small round
table to the hearth, and putting her candle
and her work-basket upon it, she sat down
and took out her work. The work that she
was engaged upon, was the making of two
plain frocks of brown linen, for Annie. The
particular purpose for which these frocks were
designed will be explained hereafter.
Ellen had been engaged in her work but a
very few minutes when she thought she heard
some sort of call. She listened. It was
Annie's voice calling to her from the top of
the stairs. Ellen immediately rose and open-
ed the door which led to the staircase from
the kitchen.
"( Annie," said she, is that you ?"
Yes," said Annie, and I want you to
come up here and see me."



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