Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Half Title
 Title Page
 Harry and Lucy
 Back Cover

Title: Early lessons
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00015599/00001
 Material Information
Title: Early lessons
Alternate Title: Rosamond
Harry and Lucy
Physical Description: 185 p., 188 p., 180 p., 3 leaves of plates : ill. (some col.) ; 20 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Edgeworth, Maria, 1767-1849
Fraser, Francis Arthur ( Illustrator )
George Routledge and Sons, Ltd ( Publisher )
Cowan & Co., Limited ( Printer )
Publisher: George Routledge and Sons, Limited
Place of Publication: London ;
Manchester Eng. ;
New York
Manufacturer: Cowan & Co., Limited
Publication Date: [189-?]
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Brothers and sisters -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Parent and child -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Family stories -- 1895   ( local )
Children's stories -- 1895   ( lcsh )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1895   ( rbbin )
Bldn -- 1895
Genre: Family stories   ( local )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding)   ( rbbin )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
England -- Manchester
United States -- New York -- New York
England -- Perth
Statement of Responsibility: by Maria Edgeworth ; with seventy-two illustrations by F.A. Fraser.
General Note: Approximate dates based on publisher's address, established from Brown, P. London publishers and printers c. 1800-1870.
General Note: Each separate work has a t.p.
General Note: Baldwin Library copy 2 has variant cover indicating that it is a later issue.
Funding: Brittle Books Program
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00015599
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in Special Collections, George A. Smathers Libraries
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002242456
oclc - 50597760
notis - ALJ3408

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
    Half Title
        Half Title
    Title Page
        Title Page
        Page A-i
        Table of contents
            Page A-ii
        The purple jar
            Page A-1
            Page A-2
            Page A-3
            Page A-4
            Page A-5
            Page A-6
            Page A-7
            Page A-8
            Page A-9
        The two plums
            Page 10
            Page 11
            Page 12
            Page 13
            Page 14
            Page 15
        The injured ass
            Page 16
            Page 17
            Page 18
            Page 19
            Page 20
            Page 21
        Rosamond's day of misfortunes
            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
            Page 39
            Page 40
            Page 41
            Page 42
            Page 43
            Page 44
            Page 45
        The thorn
            Page 46
            Page 47
            Page 48
            Page 49
            Page 50
        The hyacinths
            Page 51
            Page 52
            Page 53
            Page 54
        The rabbit
            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
        The wager
            Page 80
            Page 81
            Page 82
            Page 83
            Page 84
            Page 85
            Page 86
            Page 87
            Page 88
            Page 89
            Page 90
            Page 91
        The party of pleasure
            Page 92
            Page 93
            Page 94
            Page 95
        The black bonnet
            Page 96
            Page 97
            Page 98
            Page 99
            Page 100
        The India cabinet
            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
            Page 114
            Page 115
            Page 116
        The silver cup
            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
            Page 134
            Page 135
        The bee and the cow
            Page 136
            Page 137
            Page 138
            Page 139
            Page 140
            Page 141
            Page 142
            Page 143
            Page 144
            Page 145
            Page 146
        The happy party
            Page 147
            Page 148
            Page 149
            Page 150
            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
        The microscope
            Page 172
            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 B-i
        Page B-ii
        Page B-iii
        Page B-iv
        Part I
            Page B-1
            Page B-2
            Page B-3
            Page B-4
            Page B-5
            Page B-6
            Page B-7
            Page B-8
            Page B-9
            Page B-10
            Page B-11
            Page B-12
            Page B-13
            Page B-14
            Page B-15
            Page B-16
            Page B-17
            Page B-18
            Page B-19
            Page B-20
            Page B-21
            Page B-22
            Page B-23
            Page B-24
            Page B-25
            Page B-26
            Page B-27
            Page B-28
            Page B-29
        Part II
            Page B-30
            Page B-31
            Page B-32
            Page B-33
            Page B-34
            Page B-35
            Page B-36
            Page B-37
            Page B-38
            Page B-39
            Page B-40
            Page B-41
            Page B-42
            Page B-43
            Page B-44
            Page B-45
            Page B-46
            Page B-47
            Page B-48
            Page B-49
            Page B-50
            Page B-51
            Page B-52
            Page B-53
            Page B-54
            Page B-55
            Page B-56
            Page B-57
            Page B-58
            Page B-59
        Part III
            Page B-60
            Page B-61
            Page B-62
            Page B-63
            Page B-64
            Page B-65
            Page B-66
            Page B-67
            Page B-68
            Page B-69
            Page B-70
            Page B-71
            Page B-72
            Page B-73
            Page B-74
            Page B-75
            Page B-76
            Page B-77
            Page B-78
            Page B-79
            Page B-80
            Page B-81
            Page B-82
        Part IV
            Page B-83
            Page B-84
            Page B-85
            Page B-86
            Page B-87
            Page B-88
            Page B-89
            Page B-90
            Page B-91
            Page B-92
            Page B-93
            Page B-94
            Page B-95
            Page B-96
            Page B-97
            Page B-98
            Page B-99
            Page B-100
            Page B-101
            Page B-102
            Page B-103
            Page B-104
            Page B-105
            Page B-106
            Page B-107
            Page B-108
            Page B-109
        Part V
            Page B-110
            Page B-111
            Page B-112
            Page B-113
            Page B-114
            Page B-115
            Page B-116
            Page B-117
            Page B-118
            Page B-119
            Page B-120
            Page B-121
            Page B-122
            Page B-123
            Page B-124
            Page B-125
            Page B-126
            Page B-127
            Page B-128
            Page B-129
            Page B-130
            Page B-131
            Page B-132
            Page B-133
            Page B-134
            Page B-135
            Page B-136
            Page B-137
            Page B-138
            Page B-139
            Page B-140
            Page B-141
            Page B-142
            Page B-143
            Page B-144
            Page B-145
            Page B-146
            Page B-147
            Page B-148
            Page B-149
            Page B-150
            Page B-151
            Page B-152
            Page B-153
            Page B-154
            Page B-155
            Page B-156
            Page B-157
            Page B-158
            Page B-159
            Page B-160
            Page B-161
            Page B-162
            Page B-163
            Page B-164
            Page B-165
            Page B-166
            Page B-167
            Page B-168
            Page B-169
            Page B-170
            Page B-171
            Page B-172
            Page B-173
            Page B-174
            Page B-175
            Page B-176
            Page B-177
            Page B-178
            Page B-179
            Page B-180
            Page B-181
            Page B-182
            Page B-183
            Page B-184
            Page B-185
            Page B-186
            Page B-187
            Page B-188
    Harry and Lucy
        Page C-i
        Page C-ii
        Page C-iii
        Page C-iv
        Table of contents
            Page C-v
            Page C-vi
        A few words to parents
            Page C-vii
            Page C-viii
            Page C-ix
            Page C-x
            Page C-xi
            Page C-xii
        Harry and Lucy
            Page C-1
            Page C-2
            Page C-3
            Page C-4
            Page C-5
            Page C-6
            Page C-7
            Page C-8
            Page C-9
            Page C-10
            Page C-11
            Page C-12
            Page C-13
            Page C-14
            Page C-15
            Page C-16
            Page C-17
            Page C-18
            Page C-19
            Page C-20
            Page C-21
            Page C-22
            Page C-23
            Page C-24
            Page C-25
            Page C-26
            Page C-27
            Page C-28
            Page C-29
            Page C-30
            Page C-31
            Page C-32
            Page C-33
            Page C-34
            Page C-35
            Page C-36
            Page C-37
            Page C-38
            Page C-39
            Page C-40
            Page C-41
            Page C-42
            Page C-43
            Page C-44
            Page C-45
            Page C-46
            Page C-47
            Page C-48
            Page C-49
            Page C-50
            Page C-51
            Page C-52
            Page C-53
            Page C-54
            Page C-55
            Page C-56
            Page C-57
            Page C-58
            Page C-59
            Page C-60
            Page C-61
            Page C-62
            Page C-63
            Page C-64
            Page C-65
            Page C-66
            Page C-67
            Page C-68
            Page C-69
            Page C-70
            Page C-71
            Page C-72
            Page C-73
            Page C-74
            Page C-75
            Page C-76
            Page C-77
            Page C-78
            Page C-79
            Page C-80
            Page C-81
            Page C-82
            Page C-83
            Page C-84
            Page C-85
            Page C-86
            Page C-87
            Page C-88
            Page C-89
            Page C-90
            Page C-91
            Page C-92
            Page C-93
            Page C-94
            Page C-95
            Page C-96
            Page C-97
            Page C-98
            Page C-99
            Page C-100
            Page C-101
            Page C-102
            Page C-103
            Page C-104
            Page C-105
            Page C-106
            Page C-107
            Page C-108
            Page C-109
            Page C-110
            Page C-111
            Page C-112
            Page C-113
            Page C-114
            Page C-115
            Page C-116
            Page C-117
            Page C-118
            Page C-119
            Page C-120
            Page C-121
            Page C-122
            Page C-123
            Page C-124
            Page C-125
            Page C-126
            Page C-127
            Page C-128
            Page C-129
            Page C-130
            Page C-131
            Page C-132
            Page C-133
            Page C-134
            Page C-135
            Page C-136
            Page C-137
            Page C-138
            Page C-139
            Page C-140
            Page C-141
            Page C-142
            Page C-143
            Page C-144
            Page C-145
            Page C-146
            Page C-147
            Page C-148
            Page C-149
            Page C-150
            Page C-151
            Page C-152
        The little dog Trusty; or, the liar and the boy of truth
            Page C-153
            Page C-154
            Page C-155
            Page C-156
            Page C-157
            Page C-158
            Page C-159
        The orange-man; or, the honest boy and the thief
            Page C-160
            Page C-161
            Page C-162
            Page C-163
            Page C-164
            Page C-165
        The cherry orchard
            Page C-166
            Page C-167
            Page C-168
            Page C-169
            Page C-170
            Page C-171
            Page C-172
            Page C-173
            Page C-174
            Page C-175
            Page C-176
            Page C-177
            Page C-178
            Page C-179
            Page C-180
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text






-I.- .1
-U' 43- *


/:: p.I"


Early Lessons.

































. 38

S 46


o 55

S 80

S 92

. a 96








ROSAMOND, a little girl about seven years old, was walking
with her mother in the streets of London. As she passed
along she looked in at the windows of several shops, and
saw a great variety of different sorts of things, of which she
did not know the use, or even the names. She wished to
stop to look at them, but there was a great number of
people in the streets, and a great many carts, carriages and
wheelbarrows, and she was afraid to let go her mother's
"Oh, mother, how happy I should be," she said, as
she passed a toy-shop, "if I had all these pretty
"What, all! Do you wish for them all, Rosamond?"
"Yes, mamma, all."
As she spoke they came to a milliner's shop, the windows
of which were decorated with ribands and lace, and festoons
of artificial flowers.
Oh, mamma, what beautiful roses! Won't you buy
some of them ? "
"No, my dear."
Because I don't want them, my dear."
They went a little further, and came to another shop,


which caught Rosamond's eye. It was a jeweller's shop,
and in it were a great many pretty baubles, ranged in
drawers behind glass.
Mamma, will you buy some of these ?"

* I

"Which of them, Rosamond?"
Which ? I don't know which; any of them will do, for
they are all pretty."
"Yes, they are all pretty; but of what use would they be
to me ? "



"Use! Oh, I am sure you could find some use or other
for them if you would only buy them first."
"But I would rather find out the use first."
"Well, then, mamma, there are buckles; you know that
buckles are useful things, very useful things."
"I have a pair of buckles; I don't want another pair,"
said her mother, and walked on.
Rosamond was very sorry that her mother wanted nothing.
Presently, however, they came to a shop, which appeared to
her far more beautiful than the rest. It was a chemist's
shop, but she did not know that.
"Oh, mother, oh !" cried she, pulling her mother's hand,
"look, look! blue, green, red, yellow, and purple! Oh,
mamma, what beautiful things! Won't you buy some of
Still her mother answered as before, "Of what use would
they be to me, Rosamond ?"
"You might put flowers in them, mamma, and they would
look so pretty on the chimney-piece. I wish I had one of
"You have a flower-pot," said her mother, "and that is
not a flower-pot."
But I could use it for a flower-pot, mamma, you know."
"Perhaps if you were to see it nearer, if you were to
examine it, you might be disappointed."
"No, indeed, I'm sure I should not; I should like it
Rosamond kept her head turned to look at the purple
vase, till she could see it no longer.
"Then, mother," said she, after a pause, "perhaps you
have no money."
"Yes, I have."
"Dear me, if I had money I would buy roses, and boxes

RO I; i\OvD.

and buckles, and purple flower-pots, and everything." Rosa.
mond was obliged to pause in the midst of her speech.
Oh, mamma, would you stop a minute for me ? I have
got a stone in my shoe; it hurts me very much."
"How came there to be a stone in your shoe ?"
"Because of this great hole, mamma-it comes in there;
my shoes are quite worn out. I wish you would be so very
good as to give me another pair."
"Nay, Rosamond, but I have not money enough to buy
shoes, and flower-pots, and buckles, and boxes, and every-
Rosamond thought that was a great pity. But now her
foot, which had been hurt by the stone, began to give her
so much pain that she was obliged to hop every other step,
and she could think of nothing else. They came to a shoe-
maker's shop soon afterwards.
"There, there mamma, there are shoes; there are little
shoes that would just fit me, and you know shoes would be
really of use to me."
Yes, so they would, Rosamond. Come in."
She followed her mother into the shop.
Mr. Sole the shoemaker, had a great many customers,
and this shop was full, so they were obliged to wait.
"Well, Rosamond," said her mother, "you don't think
this shop so pretty as the rest ? "
'No, not nearly; it is black and dark, and there are
nothing but shoes all round; and, besides, there's a very
disagreeable smell."
"That smell is the smell of new leather."
"Is it ? Oh !" said Rosamond, looking round, "there is
a pair of little shoes; they'll just fit me, I'm sure."
"Perhaps they might; but you cannot be sure till you
have tried them on, any more than you can be quite sure


that you should like the purple vase exceedingly, till you
have examined it more attentively."
Why, I don't know about the shoes, certainly, till I have
tried; but, mamma, I am quite sure that I should like the
"Well, which would you rather have, a jar or a pair of
shoes? I will buy either for you."
"Dear mamma, thank you-but if you could buy both ?"
"No, not both."
"Then the jar, if you please."
"But I should tell you, that in that case I shall not give
you another pair of shoes this month."
This month! that's a very long time indeed You can't
think how these hurt me; I believe I'd better have the new
shoes. Yet, that purple flower-pot. Oh, indeed, mamma,
these shoes are not so very, very bad! I think I might wear
them a little longer, and the month will soon be over. I
can make them last till the end of the month, can't I ?
Don't you think so, mamma?"
"Nay, my dear, I want you to think for yourself; you
will have time enough to consider the matter, whilst I speak
to Mr. Sole about my clogs."
Mr. Sole was by this time at leisure, and whilst her
mother was speaking to him, Rosamond stood in pro-
found meditation, with one shoe on, and the other in her hand.
"Well, my dear, have you decided ?"
Mamma !-yes,-I believe I have.' If you please, I
should like to have the flower-pot; that is, if you won't
think me very silly, mamma."
"Why, as to that, I can't promise you, Rosamond; but,
when you have to judge for. yourself you should choose
what would make you happy, and then it would not signify
who thought you silly."


"Then, mamma, if that's all, I'm sure the flower-pot
would make me happy," said she, putting on her old shoe
again; "so I choose the flower-pot."
"Very well, you shall have it; clasp your shoe and come
Rosamond clasped her shoe and ran after her mother. It
was not long before the shoe came down at the heel, and
many times she was obliged to stop to take the stones out
of it, and she often limped with pain! but still the thoughts
of the purple flower-pot prevailed, and she persisted in her
When they came to the shop with the large window,
Rosamond felt much pleasure upon hearing her mother
desire the servant, who was with them, to buy the purple
jar, and bring it home. He had other commissions, so he
did not return with them. Rosamond, as soon as she got
in ran to gather all her own flowers, which she kept in a
corner of her mother's garden.
I am afraid they'll be dead before the flower-pot comes,
Rosamond," said her mother to her, as she came in with
the flowers in her lap.
"No, indeed, mamma, it will come home very soon, I
dare say. I shall be very happy putting them into the
purple flower-pot."
I hope so, my dear."
The servant was much longer returning home than Rosa-
mond had expected; but at length he came, and brought
with him the long-wished for jar. The moment it was set
down upon the table, Rosamond ran up to it with an ex-
clamation of joy: I may have it now, mamma ?"
"Yes, my dear, it is yours."
Rosamond poured the flowers from her lap upon the
carpet, and seized the purple flower-pot.


"Oh, dear, mother !" cried she, as soon as she had taken
off the top, "but there's something dark in it which smells
very disagreeably. What is it? I didn't want this black
Nor I, my dear."
But what shall I do with it, mamma ?"
"That I cannot tell."
It will be of no use to me, mamma."
"That I cannot help."
"But I must pour it out, and fill the flower-pot with
"As you please, my dear."
Will you lend me a bowl to pour it into, mamma?"
"That was more than I promised you, my dear; but I
will lend you a bowl."
The bowl was produced, and Rosamond proceeded to
empty the purple vase. But she experienced much surprise
and disappointment, on finding, when it was entirely empty,
that it was no longer a purple vase. It was a plain white
glass jar, which had appeared to have that beautiful colour
merely from the liquor with which it had been filled.
Little Rosamond burst into tears.
"Why should you cry, my dear?" said her mother; "it
will be of as much use to you now as ever, for a flower-
"But it won't look so pretty on the chimney-piece. I am
sure, if I had known that it was not really purple, I should
not have wished to have it so much."
"But didn't I tell you that you had not examined it; and
that perhaps you would be disappointed?"
"And so I am disappointed, indeed. I wish I had
believed you at once. Now I had much rather have the
shoes, for I shall not be able to walk all this month; even


walking home that little way hurt me exceedingly. Mamma
I will give you the flower-pot back again, and that pu rple
stuff and all, if you'll only give me the shoes."
"No, Rosamond; you must abide by your own choice;
and now the best thing you can possibly do is to bear your
disappointment with good humour."
"I will bear it as well as I can," said Rosamond, wiping
her eyes, and she began slowly and sorrowfully to fill the
vase with flowers.
But, Rosamond's disappointment did not end here.
Many were the difficulties and distresses into *which
her imprudent choice brought her, before the end of the
Every day her shoes grew worse and worse, till at
last she could neither run, dance, jump, or walk in them.
Whenever Rosamond was called to see anything she was
detained pulling her shoes up at the heels, and was sure to '
be too late.
Whenever her mother was going out to walk, she could
not take Rosamond with her, for Rosamond had no soles to
her shoes; and at length, on the very last day of the month,
it happened that her father proposed to take her with her
brother to a glasshouse, which she had long wished to see.
She was very happy; but, when she was quite ready, had
her hat and gloves on, and was making haste downstairs to
her brother and father, who was waiting for her at the hall
door, the shoe dropped off. She put it on again in a great
hurry, but, as she was going across the hall, her father
turned round.
"Why are you walking slip-shod? no one must walk slip-
shod with me; why, Rosamond," said he, looking at her
shoes with.disgust, "I thought that you were always neat;
go, I cannot take you with me."


Rosamond coloured and retired.
"Oh, mamma," said she, as she took off her hat, "how I
wish that I had chosen the shoes They would have been
of so much more use to me than that jar: however, I am
sure, no, not quite sure, but I hope I shall be wiser another


"WHAT are you looking for, Rosamond ?" said her mother.
Rosamond was kneeling upon the carpet, and leaning
upon both her hands, looking very earnestly for something.
"Mamma," said she, pushing aside her hair which hung
over her face, and looking up, with a sorrowful countenance,
"I am looking for my needle; I have been all the morning
ever since breakfast, trying to find my needle, and I cannot
find it."
This is not the first needle that you have lost this week,
"No, mamma."
"Nor the second."
"No, mamma."
"Nor the third."
Rosamond was silent, for she feltashamed of having been
so careless as to lose four needles in one week.
"Indeed, mamma," said she, after being silent for some
time, "I stuck it very carefully into my work when I put
it by yesterday, I think, but I am not quite sure of that."
"Nor I either," said her mother. I cannot be sure of
that, because I know you have the habit when you leave off
work of leaving your needle loose, hanging on the thread."
But I thought that I had cured myself of that, mamma:
look here, mamma, I can show you in my work the very
holes in which I stuck my needle. I assure you that it falls
out after I have stuck it in, because I shake my work
generally before I fold it up."
"I advise you to cure yourself of the habit of shaking
your work before you fold it up, then the needle will not


drop out; and you will not spend a whole morning crawling
upon the ground to look for it."
"I am sure I wish I could cure myself of losing my
needles, for I lost, besides my needle, a very pleasant walk
yesterday, because I had no needle, and I could not sew on
the string of my hat. The day before yesterday I was not
ready for dinner, and papa was not pleased with me; and
do you know, mamma, the reason I was not ready for
dinner was that you had desired me to mend the tuck of
my dress."
"Nay, Rosamond, I do not think that was the reason."
"Yes, I assure you it was, mother, for I could not come
down before I had mended that tuck, and as I could not
find riy needle, I lost all my time looking for it, and I only
found it just before the dinner bell rang."
Then, by your own account, Rosamond, it was your
having lost your needle that was the cause of your being
late for dinner,'not my desiring you to mend your dress."
"Yes, mamma; *but I think the reason why my sister
Laura keeps her needles so safely, is, that she has a house-
wife to keep them in, and I have no housewife, mamma,
you know. Would you be so very good, mamma, as to give
me a housewife, that I may cure myself of losing my needles ? "
"I am glad," said her mother, "that you wish, my dear,
to cure yourself of any of your little faults; as to the house-
wife, I'll think about it."
A few days after Rosamond had asked her mother for a
housewife, as she was watering her flowers in the garden she
heard the parlour window open, and she looked and saw her
mother beckoning to her. She ran in. This happened in
the evening, a little while after dinner.
"Look upon the table, Rosamond," said her mother, "and
tell me what you see."


"I see two plums, mamma," said Rosamond, smiling,
"two nice ripe purple plums."
"Are you sure that you see two nice ripe purple plums ?"
"Not quite sure, mamma," said Rosamond, who at this
instant recollected the purple jar; but I will, if you please,
look at them a little nearer."
She went up to the table and looked at them. "May I
touch them, mamma?"
"Yes, my dear."
Rosamond touched them, and tried to smell them, and
then exclaimed, "One is quite hard, and the other is soft.
One is a great deal colder than the other. One smells like
a plum, and the other has no smell at all. I am glad I was
not quite sure, mamma; for I do believe one of them is not
a plum, but a stone-a stone painted to look like a
"You are quite right," said her mother; "and I am glad
you remembered the purple jar. Now eat the real plum, if
you think you should like it."
Rosamond ate the plum, and said that it was very sweet
and good. While she was eating it, she looked very often
at the stone that was painted to look like a plum, and said,
" How very pretty it is It is quite like a real plum. I
daresay nobody would find out that it was not a plum at first
sight. I wonder whether Laura, or my brother Godfrey
would find it out as soon as I did. I should like to have
that stone plum, mamma. If you had given me my choice,
I would rather have had it than the real plum, which I have
eaten, because the pleasure of eating a plum, you know,
mamma, is soon over; but that," said Rosamond, pointing
to the plum that was made of stone, "would last for ever,
you know, mamma."
"Which do you mean, my dear, that the stone would last


for ever, or that the pleasure of having that stone plum would
last for ever?"
Rosamond considered for a little while, and then answered,
"I don't know, mamma, exactly which I meant: but I mean
now that I think I should have a great deal of pleasure in
showing that stone plum to Laura and my brother, and that
I should like to have it for my own, because it is very pretty,
and curious and ingenious. I mean that I would much
rather have had it than the plum which I have eaten, if you
had been so good as to have given me my choice."
"Well, my dear," said her mother, "as you have eaten
the plum, you cannot perhaps tell exactly which you would
have chosen."
Oh, yes, indeed, mamma, I am sure, almost sure, I should
have chosen the stone plum. I know if you were this instant
to offer me another real plum, or this," said Rosamond,
taking the stone in her hand, "I know which I should
Rosamond was looking so earnestly at the stone plum,
that she did not for some instants perceive a housewife
which her mother placed upon the table before her.
"A housewife A red leather housewife, mamma !" she
exclaimed, as soon as she saw it, and she put down the stone
Her mother now placed the plum and the housewife beside
one another, and said to her, "Take your choice of these
two, my dear; I will give you either the housewife, or the
stone plum, whichever you like best."
I hope, mamma," said Rosamond, with a very prudent
look, "I hope I shall not make such a silly choice as I did
about the purple jar. Let us consider; the plum is cer-
tainly the prettiest, but then, to be sure, the housewife would
be the most useful; I should not lose my needles if I had


that housewife to keep them in. I remember I wished for
a housewife, and asked you for one the other day, mamma.
I am very much obliged to you for getting this for me. Did
you get it on purpose for me, mamma ?"
"It does not signify, my dear, whether I did or not; you
need not think about that at present, but consider which of
the two things that are before you you prefer."
"Prefer means like best. I prefer-- said Rosamond,
"but stay, I have not done considering yet;-the housewife,
I think. I should not be so apt to lose my needles if I
choose that, and I like to cure myself of my little faults. I
was very happy when you smiled and praised me, mamma,
and said the other day that you were glad to see that I wished
to cure myself of my little faults; and I daresay, mamma,
that you will smile a great deal more, and be a great deal
more pleased with me when I reallyhave entirely cured myself."
"I don't promise you, my dear," said her mother, "that I
should smile a great deal more, but I certainly should be
much more pleased to see that you had really cured yourself
of any bad habit, than I was to hear you say that you wished
to improve yourself."
"But then, mamma," said Rosamond, "losing my needle,
-the habit, I mean, of losing my needles,-is but a very
little fault, and I think I could cure myself of that without
having a housewife. You know I might as you said, cure
myself of shaking my work before I fold it up, and that would
prevent the needle from dropping out, so that I think I might
do without the housewife. What do you think, mamma? I
need not ask you, because I know you will say as you did
about the purple jar-,' Think for yourself, my dear.'"
Rosamond, as she pronounced the words purple jar, turned
her eyes from the stone plum, and fixed them upon the


"The housewife will be the most useful to me, certainly;
I choose the housewife, mamma, and I'll cure myself of my
little faults, and you shall see, I hope, that I shall not lose
my needles so often. This housewife will last and be of use
to me a great while, and the pleasure of seeing Laura and
my brother mistake that stone for a plum would soon be
over, and as to its being pretty, I should soon be tired of
looking at it, and forget it, as I forgot-I remember-I mean
as I remember that I forgot the pretty gilt coach and six,
after I.had had it three or four days. I hope, dear mamma,
that I have considered well this time, and I think that I have
chosen better than I did about the purple jar."
"I think you have, my dear little girl," said her mother.
Some weeks after Rosamond had chosen the red leather
housewife, her brother came to her and said, Can you lend
me a needle, Rosamond? my father says that he will show
us something that will entertain us if you can."
Yes," said Rosamond, "I can lend you a needle; I have
never lost one since I had this housewife given me." She
took out of her housewife a needle, and lent it to her brother;
and he said, "Thank you; come with me. Papa said, that
if you had your needle safe, you should see what he is going
to show to us."
Her father showed her and her brother several experiments
with her needle and a magnet; and Rosamond was much
entertained with these experiments, and she was very glad
that she had cured herself of the habit of losing her needles,
and said, Mother, I am glad I chose the red leather house-
wife that has been so useful to me, instead of the stone plum
which would have been of no use to me whatever."

These experiments are illustrated and explained in Every Boy's Book."
The work contains 600 illustrations, and may be had at the publishers. The
price is 8s. 6d.


"ARE you very busy, mamma?" said Rosamond; "could
you be so good as to look at your watch once more, and tell
me what o'clock it is-only once more, mamma?"
"My dear Rosamond, I have looked at my watch for you
four times within this hour. It is now exactly twelve
"Only twelve, mamma Why, I thought that the hour-
glass must have been wrong. It seems a great deal more
than an hour since I turned it, and since you told me it was
exactly eleven o'clock. It has been a very long, long hour,
mamma. Don't you think so, Laura?"
"No, indeed," said Laura, looking up from what she was
doing; "I thought it was a very short hour; I was quite
surprised when mamma said it was twelve o'clock."
"Ah, that is only because you were so busy drawing. I
assure you, Laura, that I, who have been watching the sand
running all the time, must know best: it has been the longest
hour I ever remember."
"The hour in itself has been the same to you and to Laura,"
said her mother; "how comes it that one thought it long,
and the other short?"
"I have been waiting and wishing all the time, mamma,
that it was one o'clock, that I might go to my brothers, and
see the soap bubbles they promised to show me. Papa said
that I must not knock at his door till the clock strikes one.
Oh! I have another long hour to wait," said Rosamond,
stretching herself, and gaping; "another long hour, mamma."
"Why should it be a long hour, Rosamond ? Whether it
shall seem long or short to you, may be just as you please."


"Nay, mamma, what can I do? I can shake the hour-
glass, to be sure: that makes the sand run a little faster,"
said Rosamond, and she took the glass as she spoke.
"And can you do nothing else, Rosamond," said her
mother, to make the hour go faster ? "
"Nothing that I know of, mamma. Tell me what I can
"You told us, just now, the reason that Laura thought the
last hour shorter than you did."
"Oh, because she was busy, I said."
"Well, Rosamond, and if you were busy-"
"But, mamma, how can I be busy, as Laura is, about
drawing? You know I'm not old enough, yet; I have never
learned to draw; I have no pencil; I have no paper,
mamma; I have no India-rubber; how can I be busy, as
Laura is, about drawing, mamma?"
"And is there nothing in this world, Rosamond, that
people can be busy about, except drawing? I am at work,
and I am busy. Is there nothing you can do without a
pencil, paper, and India-rubber; and without being as old
as Laura ?"
"Suppose, mamma, I were to wind that skein of red silk
now, which you desired me to wind before night, perhaps
that would make the hour shorter. Eh, mamma? Will it,
do you think ?"
"You had better try the experiment, and then you will
know, my dear," said her mother.
"Is that an experiment, too ? Well, I will try it," said
Rosamond, "if you will be so good as to lend me your
silk-winders, mamma."
Her mother lent Rosamond the winders, and she began
to wind the silk; it happened to be a difficult skein to wind,
it often got entangled, and Rosamond's attention was fully


employed in trying to disengage it. There, mamma," she
said, laying the ball of silk upon the tale after she had
wound off the whole skein, "I have only broken it five
times, and I have not been long in winding it, have I,
mamma ? "
"Not very long, my dear," said her mother, "only half-
Half-an-hour, dear mamma! surely it is impossible that
it can be half-an-hour since I spoke last; since I was talking
to you about the hour-glass." Rosamond turned back to
Look at the hour-glass, and she was surprised to see the hill
of sand in the undermost glass so large.-" This has been a
very short half-hour, indeed, mamma. You were right;-
having something to do makes the time seem to go fast.
Now, mamma, do you know that I don't particularly like
winding silk; I mean, entangled skeins; and I daresay that
if I had been doing something that I liked better, the half-
hour would have seemed shorter still. I have another half-
hour, mamma, before I go to Godfrey and the soap-bubbles.
Mamma, if you could think of something that I like very
much to do, I might try another experiment; I might try
whether the next half-hour would not seem to go faster even
than the last."
"Well, my dear Rosamond," said her mother, smiling,
"as you thought of something to do for yourself when I
wished it, I will try if I can find something for you to do now
that you will like." Her mother opened the drawer of her
table, and took out of it a very small manuscript, covered
with marble paper.
"What is that, mamma ?" cried Rosamond.
"A little story," said her mother, founded on fact."
"What's the name of it, dear mamma?"
"The Injured Ass."


"The Injured Ass ; I am glad of it, I.like the name."
"But you cannot read writing well, Rosamond."
"But, mamma," said Rosamond, I daresay I shall be
able to make this out; it seems to be very plainly written, and
in a large round hand. I am glad of that; may I read it,
mamma ?"
"Yes, my dear, and when you have read it to yourself,
you may, if you like it, read it aloud to Laura and to
Rosamond took the little manuscript, and began to read
it to herself; and, with Laura's assistance, she made out all
the words.
"Now, mamma, may I read it to you and to Laura? I
have read it all. I have not been long, have I, mamma ?
May I begin ?"
Her mother assented, and she read the following


A KING made a law that if any person had reason to complain
of being treated with great ingratitude, the inhabitants of
the city where he dwelt should be summoned together by
the ringing of a bell, that the ungrateful man might be
S brought before his fellow citizens, and punished by being
exposed to public shame.
The inhabitants of this city were so virtuous, that a long
time passed away without any person having been accused
of great ingratitude. The bell became rusty, the rotten
paling which surrounded it was overgrown with grass and
weeds, when late one night the unaccustomed sound of the
bell was heard. The inhabitants of the city surrounded the
place, and to their utmost surprise they beheld a grey, worn-


out ass, who had come there, and by chance had got his feet -
entangled in the chain of the bell, and by this means rang
it. The owner of the ass was discovered; the neighbours
all recollected that it had been in its youth a most service-

able creature to him; by the money which its labour had
earned his master had been enable to purchase and enclose
a bit of ground which formerly had belonged to the common.
The owner of the ass acknowledged that it had been very
useful to him in its youth, but said it was of no use to him

--r. 5


now, and ate more than it was worth; so he had turned it
loose to pick up a living on the mountains and commons,
where he thought it might have found plenty of food.
The deplorable condition of the poor creature was, how-
ever, sufficient evidence of its having been treated with great
ingratitude, and the owner was condemned to pay a fine
sufficient to maintain the ass comfortably for the remainder
of its days; and it was further decreed that the part of the
common which the master of the ass had been enabled to
purchase by the work of this poor animal should be thrown
open again for cattle to graze upon.
That's the end of the story, mamma," said Rosamond,
and she talked for some time about it to her mother, and the
half-hour seemed to have passed away very quickly, so very
quickly, that she was surprised when her brother came to
tell her that it was past one o'clock, and that he was ready
to blow the soap-bubbles.


"Many a cloudy morning turns out a fine day."

"ARE you getting up so soon?" said Rosamond to her
sister: "it seems to be a cold morning; and as it is very dis-
agreeable to get up from one's warm bed in this cold weather,
I shall not get up yet."
So Rosamond, who was covered up warmly, lay quite
still, looking at Laura, who was dressing herself as quickly
as she could.
"It is a cold morning, indeed," said Laura, "therefore
I'll make haste, that I may go down and warm myself after-
wards at the fire in mamma's dressing-room."
When Laura was about half dressed, she called again to
Rosamond, and told her that it was late, and that she was
afraid she would not be ready for breakfast.
But Rosamond answered, "I shall be ready, I shall be
ready; for you know when I make a great deal of haste I
can dress very quickly indeed. Yesterday morning I did not
begin to dress till you were combing the last curl of your
hair, and I was ready almost as soon as you were. Nay,
Laura, why do you shake your head ? I say almost-I don't
say quite."
"I don't know what you call almost," said Laura, laugh-
ing, I had been drawing some time before you came down-
"But I looked at your drawing," said Rosamond, "the
minute I came into the room, and I saw only three legs, and
a back of a chair; you know that was not much; indeed it
was hardly worth while to get up early to do so little."


"Doing a little and a little every morning makes some-
thing in time," said Laura.
"Very true," replied Rosamond, "you drew the whole of
mamma's dressing-room, dressing-table and glass and every-
thing little by little, in-- what do you call it ? -
perspective-before breakfast! I begin to wish that

*h ,' "! l !

I could get up as you do but then I can't draw ir.
"But, my dear Rosamond, whilst-you are talking about
perspective, you don't consider how late it is getting," said
Laura, "why don't you get up now?"
Oh, because it is too late to get up early now," argued


Satisfied with this reflection, Rosamond closed her eyes,
and turned to go asleep again.
"When you come to the last curl, Laura, call me once
more," said she, and then I'll get up."
But in vain Laura called her again, warning her that she
had come to the last curl.
Rosamond was more sleepy than ever, and more afraid
of the cold. At last, however, she was roused by the break-
fast bell: she started up, exclaiming,
"Oh, Laura, what shall I do? I shall not be ready: my
father will be displeased with me; and I've lost my lace;
and I can't find my pocket-handkerchief; and all my things
are gone. This will be a day of misfortunes, I'm sure-and
the clasp is come out of my shoe," added she, and as she
uttered these words in a doleful tone she sat down upon
the side of the bed, and began to cry.
Nay, don't cry," said Laura, "or else it will be a day of
misfortunes. Look, here is your pocket-handkerchief."
But my lace," said Rosamond, wiping her eyes with the
handkerchief, "how can I be ready for breakfast without my
lace, and my father will be very, very--"
"Very what?" said Laura, good-humouredly; "here's
the lace; sit up a minute, and I'll draw it out for you."
Rosamond laughed when she found that she was sitting
upon her own lace, and she thanked her sister, who was now
sewing the clasp on her shoe.
"Well, I don't think it will be a day of misfortunes,"
said Rosamond; "you see I'm almost dressed, Laura, and
I shall be ready in pretty good time, and I shall be just as
well as if I had got up an hour ago, Laura."
But at this moment Rosamond, in her violent haste,
pulled the string of her cap into a knot, which she could not
untie. Laura was going out of the room, but she called her


back in a voice of distress, and begged that she would be so
very good as to do one thing more for her; and as Rosa-
mond spoke she held up her chin and showed the hard knot.
Laura, whose patience was not to be conquered even by
a hard knot, began very kindly to help her sister, but Rosa-
mond between her dislike of the cold, and her fears that
she should not be ready for breakfast and that her father
would be displeased with her, became more and more fretful;
she.repeated, "This will be a day of misfortunes, after all, it
tires me, Laura, to hold up my chin so long."
Laura knelt down to relieve her .sister's chin, but no
sooner was this complaint removed than Rosamond began
to shiver extremely, and exclaimed, "It is so cold I cannot
bear it any longer, Laura. This will be a day of misfortunes.
I would rather untie the knot myself-oh, that's my father's
voice, he is dressed! he is dressed, and I am not half
Rosamond's eyes were full of tears, and she was a
melancholy spectacle when her mother at this instant opened
the door.
What not ready yet, Rosamond, and in tears! Look
at this cross face," said her mother, leading her'to a looking-
glass, "is that an agreeable little girl, do you think?"
"But I am very cold, mamma, and I can't untie this
knot. Laura, I think you have made it worse," said Rosa-
mond reproachfully.
At these words, her mother desired Laura to go down-
stairs to breakfast.
"Rosamond," added she, "you will not gain anything by
ill-humour. When you have done crying, and when you
have dressed yourself, you may follow us down to breakfast."
As soon as her mother had shut the door and left her,
Rosamond began to cry again, but after some time she


considered thai her tears would neither make her warm nor
untie the knot in her cap, she therefore dried her eyes, and
once more tried to conquer the grand difficulty. A little
patience was all that was necessary; she untied the knot
and finished dressing herself, but she felt ashamed to go into
the room to her father and mother, and brothers and sister
She looked in the glass to see whether her eyes were still
red. Yes, they were very red, and her purple cheeks were
glazed with tears. She walked backwards and forwards
between the door and the looking-glass several times, and
the longer she delayed the more unwilling she felt to do
what was disagreeable to her.
At length, however, as she stood with the door half open, she
heard the cheerful sound of the voices in the breakfast-room
and she said to herself, Why should not I be as happy as
everybody else is ?"
She went downstairs, and resolved, very wisely, to tell her
father what had happened, and to be good-humoured and
"Well, Rosamond," said her mother, when she came into
the room, and when she told her father what had happened,
" you look rather more agreeable now than you did when I
saw you a little while ago. We are glad to see that you can
command yourself. Come, now, and eat some breakfast."
Laura drew a chair for her sister to the table near the fire
and Rosamond would have said, "Thank you," but she was
afraid to speak, lest she should cry again. She began to
eat her breakfast as fast as possible, without lifting up her
"You need not put quite such large pieces in your little
mouth," said her mother, "and you need not look quite so
dismal. All your misfortunes are over now, are they not ? "
But at the word misfortunes, Rosamond's face wrinkled up


into a most dismal condition, and the large tears
-which had gradually collected in her eyes rolled over her
"What is the matter now, Rosamond ?" said her mother.
"I don't know, mamma."
"But try to find out, Rosamond," said her mother;
"think, and tell me what it is that makes you look so
miserable. If you can find out the cause of this woe,
perhaps you will be able to put an end to it. What is
the cause, can you tell?"
"The cause is, I believe, mamma, because," said
Rosamond, sobbing-" because I think to-day will be a-
will be a day of-a day of-a day of misfortunes."
And what do you mean by a day of misfortunes, Rosa-
mond?-A day on which you are asked not to put large
pieces of bread into your mouth ?"
"No, mamma," said Rosamond, half laughing, "but- "
"But what?-a day when you cannot immediately untie
a knot?"
"Not only that, mamma," answered Rosamond, "but a
day when everything goes wrong."
"When you do not get up in proper time, for instance ?"
"Yes, "mamma." a
"And whose fault was that, Rosamond-yours or the
day's ?"
"Don't you think it was partly the day's fault, mamma,
because it was so cold ? It was the cold that first prevented
me from getting up, and then my not getting up was the
cause of my being in a great hurry afterwards, and of my
losing my lace and my pocket-handkerchief, and of my
pulling the strings of my cap into a knot, and of my being
cross to Laura, who was so good to me, and of your being
displeased with me, and of all my misfortunes."


"So the cold, you think, was the cause of all these mis-
fortunes, as you call them? But do you think that
nobody has felt the cold this morning except yourself?
Laura and I felt the cold, and how comes it that we have
had no misfortunes ?"
"Oh, mamma," said Rosamond, "but you and Laura do
not mind such little misfortunes. It would be very odd
indeed, mamma "-and she burst out a-laughing at the idea
-"it would be very droll, indeed, mamma, if I were to find
you cryingbecause you could not untie the strings of your cap."
"Or because I was cold," added her mother, laughing
with her.
I was very foolish, to be sure, mamma," resumed Rosa-
mond, "but there are two things I could say for myself that
would be some excuse."
"Say them, then, my dear; I shall be glad to hear
"The first is, mamma, that I was a great deal longer in
the cold this morning than anybody else, therefore I had
more reason to cry, you know. And the second thing I
have to say for myself is--"
"Gently," interrupted her mother. "Before you go to
your second excuse, let us consider'whether your first is a
good one. How came you to stay longer in the cold this
morning than anybody else did?"
"Because, mamma, you sent Laura downstairs, and told
me I must untie the knot myself."
"And why did I send Laura downstairs, and say you
must untie the knot for yourself?"
"Because I was cross to Laura, I believe."
"And what made you cross to Laura?"
"I was cross because I could not untie the knot that the
strings of my cap had got into."


"Had got into, Rosamond? Did the strings get into a
knot of themselves?"
"I mean, I pulled them into a knot."
"And how came you to do that ?"
"Because I was in a hurry ?"
"And how came you to be in a hurry ?"
"Oh! I see, mamma, that you will say it was my own
fault that I did not get up in proper time. But now for the
second thing I have to say for myself. The strings of my
cap are a great, great deal too short, and this, more than
the cold, was the cause of all my misfortunes. You and
Laura might have felt the cold, as you say, as much as you
did; but you, neither of you had short strings to your caps,
mamma," continued Rosamond, with emphasis. "But,"
pausing to reflect, she added, I do not think that the cold
or the strings were the real cause of my misfortunes. I
don't think I should have cried the first time, and I am
almost sure that I should not have cried the second and
third time, if it had not been for-something else. I am
afraid, mamma, to tell you of this something else, because I
know you will say that was more foolish than all the rest."
"But tell it to me, notwithstanding," said her mother,
smiling, "because the way to prevent yourself from being
foolish again is to find out what made you so just now. If
you tell me what you think and what you feel, perhaps I may
help you to manage yourself so as to make you wise, and
good, and happy; but unless I know what passes in your
little mind, I shall not be able to help you."
I'll tell you directly, mamma; it was my thinking that
to-day would be a day of misfortunes that made me cry the
second and third time, and, do you know, mamma," continued
Rosamond, in a faltering, mournful voice, "I don't know
why, but I can hardly help feeling almost ready to cry when


the same thing comes into my head again now, mamma.
Do you think to-day will be a day of misfortunes, mamma?"
I think, my dear," answered her mother, that it will
depend entirely upon yourself whether it be so or not. If
you recollect, we have just discovered that all your past
misfortunes, as you call them--"
Were my own fault, you are going to say, mamma," inter-
rupted Rosamond; that's the worst of it. That makes me
more sorry, and not pleased with myself, nor with anything
else, and ready to cry again, because I can't help it all now."
"Since you cannot help it all now," said her mother,
"why should. you cry about it? Turn your thoughts to
something else. We cannot help what is past, but we can
take care of the future."
The future," repeated Rosamond; "ay, the time to come.
To-morrow, let it be ever so cold, I'll get up in good time;
and, as for to-day, I can't get up in good time to-day, but I
may do something else that is right, and that may make me
pleased with myself again; may it not, mamma? There's
a great deal of this day to come yet, and, if I take care,
perhaps it will not be a day of misfortunes, after all. What
do you think I had better do first, mamma?"
"Run about, and warm these purple hands of yours, I
think," said her mother.
And after that, mamma, what shall I do next ?"
"Do that first," said her mother, "and then we will talk
about the next thing."
But, mamma," said Rosamond, casting a longing, linger-
ing look at the fire, "it is very disagreeable to leave this nice
warm room, and to go out to run in the cold."
"Don't you remember, Rosamond, how warm you
made yourself by running about in the garden yester-
day? you said that you felt warm for a great while.afterwards,


and that you liked that kind of warmth better than the
warmth of the fire."
"Yes, it is very true, mamma; one gets cold soon,
after being at the fire; I mean, soon after one goes away
from it; but still, it is disagreeable at first, to go out in
the cold; don't you think so, mamma?"
"Yes, I do; but I think that" we should be able to do
what is a little disagreeable, when we know that it will be
for our good afterwards; and by putting off whatever is not
agreeable to us to do, we sometimes bring ourselves into
difficulties. Recollect what happened to a little girl this
morning, who did not get up because the cold was disagreeable."
"True, mamma, I will go."
"And I am going to walk," said her mother.
"In the garden, mamma, whilst I run about? I'm very
glad of that, because I can talk to you between times, and I
don't feel the cold so much when I am talking. The snow
has been swept off the gravel walk, mamma, and there's room
for both of us; and I'll run and set your clogs at the hall
door, ready for you to pop your feet into them."


Rosamond found it cold when she first went out; but she
ran on as fast as she could, singing,
"Good, happy, gay,
One, two, three, and away,"
till she made herself quite warm.
"Feel my hands, mamma," she said, "not my purple
hands now-feel 'how warm they are. You see, mamma,
I'm able to do what is a little disagreeable to me, when it ii
for my good afterwards, as you said, mamma ;-but hush-
look there, mamma."


Rosamond, who was now warm enough to be able to,
observe, saw, whilst she was speaking to her mother, a
robin-redbreast perched at a little distance from her upon
a heap of snow. He did not seem to see Rosamond, which
rather surprised her. He must be very cold, or very tame,
or very stupid," whisperered she, "I'll go nearer to him."
At her approach he hopped back a few paces, but then
stood still. "Poor robin pretty robin he opens his eyes,
he looks at me, he is not stupid, he likes me, I daresay,
and that is the reason he does not fly away. Mamma, I
think he would let me take him up in my hand; may I,
mamma? he does not stir."
"I am afraid he is hurt, or ill; take care that you don't
hurt him, Rosamond "
"I'll take the greatest care, mamma," said Rosamond,
stooping down softly, and putting her hand over the little
bird-" Hush! I have him safe, mamma,-his little claws
stick to the snow,-he is very cold, for he trembles-and
he is frightened-there is something come over his eyes-he is
ill-what shall I do with him, mamma? May I take him
in the house and hold him to the fire, and then give him
a great many crumbs to make him quite well?"
Rosamond's mother advised her not to hold the bird to
the fire, but said that she might take him into the house
and warm him by degrees in her warm hands.
How lucky it is that my hands are warm, and how glad I
am that I came out," cried. Rosamond. "Pretty robin he
is better, mamma-he opened his eyes-I'll take him in and
show him to Laura."
This poor robin had been almost starved by cold and
hunger, but it gradually recovered by Rosamond's care,
and she rejoiced that she had saved the little bird's life.
Her mother gave her some crumbs of bread for him, and


whilst the robin-redbreast was pecking up the crumbs, Rosa-
mond stood by watching him with great delight.
"What are become of all your misfortunes, Rosamond?"
said her mother.
My misfortunes! What misfortunes ? Oh, I had quite
forgotten-I was thinking of the robin's misfortunes."
Which were greater than yours; eh, Rosamond ?"
"Yes, indeed, mamma," said Rosamond, laughing; "my
knot was no great misfortune; I wonder I could think
about such little things. But you see, mamma, this
has not been a day of misfortunes after all. I am veryhappy
now, I am pleased with myself, I have saved the life of this
poor little robin I and if I bad cried all day long, it would
not have done so much good; it would not have done any
good. There is only one thing I don't feel quite pleased with
myself about yet. That is, Laura; I'm sorry I was cross to
Laura about the knot. What can I do to make amends for
that, mamma. I'll never be cross again-I'll tell her so; eh,
mamma ?"
No, I advise you not to tell her so, Rosamond, lest you
should not be able to keep your promise- "
If there should come another knot to-morrow, mamma I
but I think it would be a good thing to prevent that.
Mamma, will. you be so good as to give me two long bits of
tape, and I will sew them on my cap? "
Her mother said she thought it was wise of Rosamond to
prevent misfortunes, instead of crying about them after they
had happened. She gave her the two pieces of tape, and
Rosamond sewed them on her cap.
As soon as she had finished this affair, she returned to her
robin, who was now flying about the room, and Laura was
looking at him. "Laura, is it not a pretty robin?"
"Very pretty, indeed," said Laura.


"Should you not like to have such a robin very much,
Laura ?" continued Rosamond.
"I like to see him, and hear him sing, and to feed him,"
answered Laura.
"Well, but should you not like to have him in a cage for
your own?" said Rosamond; and at the same moment she
whispered to her mother," Mamma, do you know, I intend
to give him to Laura. ?"
But how much was Rosamond surprised and disappointed
when her sister answered, "No, I should not like to keep
him in a cage, because I do not think he would be happy.
I have heard that robin redbreasts soon die if they are put in
"Dear, that is very unlucky indeed," said Rosamond,
"particularly as I was going to offer to give you my robin.
But you need not keep him in a cage, he may fly about in
this room as he does now, and you may feed him every day;
should you not like that, Laura ? and should you not be
much obliged to me then ?"
Laura perceived that Rosamond was anxious she should
answer "Yes," and she was unwilling to displease her by
refusing to accept of her offer. She therefore hesitated a
Why don't you say yes or no ? said Rosamond, in rather
an impatient tone. She had at this instant need of all her
command over herself, to keep to her late excellent resolu-
tion, "Never to be cross again." Her mother's eye luckily
was upon her, and with a sudden change of countenance
Rosamond smiled and said, "No, mamma, I have not for-
gotten, you see, I am good-humoured. I am only a little
sorry that Laura does not seem to like to have my little
robin; I thought she would be so pleased with him."
"So I am pleased with him," replied Laura, "and very


much obliged to you for offering to give him to me, but I do
not wish to keep him. I once took care of a poor robin,
and fed him almost all through the winter, but at last a sad
accident happened to him-don't you remember, Rosamond,
he flew upon the bars of the grate in mamma's dressing-
room, and he was terribly burnt, and he died ? "
Rosamond was touched by the recollection of this poor

'\ .'

bird's sufferings, and, after expressing some regret at the
thoughts of parting with the pretty robin, which was now
upon the table, she determined to open the window, and to
let the bird fly away, or stay, whichever he liked best. The
robin fluttered for some time near the window, then returned
to the crumbs upon the table, pecked them, hopped about,
and seemed in no haste to be gone. At last, however, he
flew off.


"Oh, mamma, he is gone for ever!" said Rosamond;
"but I did right to let him do as he pleased, did I not,
mamma? It was very disagreeable to me, indeed, to open
the window, but you know, mamma, you told me that we
must sometimes do what is disagreeable, when it is to be
for our good afterwards; this is not for my good, but for the
bird's good. Well, I hope it will be for his good; at any
rate, I have done right."
Whilst Rosamond was speaking, the robin returned and
perched upon the window-stool. Laura scattered some
crumbs upon the floor, within sight of the window. The
bird hopped in, and flew awaywith one of thecrumbsin hisbeak.
"I daresay," said Rosamond, "he will often came back-
every day, perhaps, Laura. Oh, how glad I should be of
that Would not you, mamma ?"
"My dear little girl," said her mother, I should be glad
Df it. I am very much pleased to see that you can command
your temper, and that you can use your understanding to
govern yourself."
Rosamond's mother stroked her daughter's hair upon her
forehead as she spoke, and then gave her two kisses.
Ah, mamma," said Rosamond, this has not been a day
of misfortunes, indeed."
"No, my dear," said her mother, "it has not, and I wish
in all your little and great misfortunes you may manage your-
self as well as you have done to-day."
Rosamond's prudent precaution in sewing longer strings
to her cap proved successful; for a whole month she was
dressed in proper time, and her father, to reward her for
keeping her good resolutions, lent her a nice little machine
of his for drawing perspective. She was only allowed to use
it before breakfast, and she felt the advantage of getting up
in proper time.


The robin-redbreast returned eagerly every day to the
window to be fed, and when the window happened to be
shut, he pecked at it with -his little beak till it was opened
for him. He at last grew so familiar that he would eat out
of Rosamond's hand.
"How much pleasure I should have lost, mamma," said
Rosamond, one morning, when the bird was eating out of
her hand, "if I had not done what was a little disagreeable
to me on that cold day, which I thought would have been
a day of misfortunes."


IN the spring, Rosamond and Laura went with their father
and mother into the country, and they were very eager, the
evening of their arrival, to walk out to look at the flowers
and shrubs, and to visit all their favourite walks.
"As soon as ever dinner is over, mamma, I will go out, if
you please, and run down to the waterside to see the early
rose-tree that you planted last year. I remember the place
exactly, and, mamma, if there is a rose blown, may I gather
it for you?"
"Yes, my dear," said her mother, "but I advise you not
to raise your expectations too high, lest you should be dis-
appointed. Look at that dark cloud; I think we shall have
a storm of hail."
"Oh, no, mamma," said Rosamond, "it will blow over.
You see, we have just done dinner. There! the cloth is
gone now, and I shall have time, before it hails, to run as
far as the early rose-tree and back again."
Rosamond put on her hat and ran away. She returned
soon afterwards, quite out of breath, with an early rose-bud
in her hand, if rose-bud that might be called in which scarcely
a streak of red was visible.
"Here, mamma, is the first rose. you've had this year,"
cried Rosamond, as soon as she had breath enough to express
her admiration. "Is it not beautiful.? and, you see, I had
quite time enough, mamma; it only just began to hail as I
came in."
"I see a few hailstones melting upon your hat, however,
Rosamond; and have you not been in rather too great a
hurry to gather this beautiful rose ? It might have been a


pretty rose-bud if you had patience to wait till to-morrow, or
the day afterwards."
"But that would have been a great while to wait, mamma;
I can pull the red leaves open, and make it a full-blown rose
in a minute."
I think it would be better to put it in water, and leave
it to blow," said her mother; "if you pull it open you will
spoil it, and to-morrow will come, therefore we had better
think of to-morrrow as well as of to-day."
Rosamond paused-" Yes, mamma," she said, "I think
it will be better to wait till to-morrow. I'll put the rose-bud
into water, if you will be so good as to lend me a tumbler."
Her mother poured some water into tumbler; Rosamond
put the rose-bud into it, and she placed it on the chimney-
piece, exclaiming, "I wish to-morrow was come."
"And why should we lose to-day ?" said her mother.
"Because, mamma, don't you see that it is hailing as hard
as it can hail, and there will be no more pleasure to-day.
The grass will be so wet, even if the storm should blow over
before sunset, that I shall not be able to run upon it any
And cannot you possibly be happy without running upon
the grass? You did not run upon the grass yesterday even-
ing, and I think you were tolerably happy."
"Yes, mamma; but do you think the storm will soon be
over or not? I will stand at the window and watch that
great black cloud."
In vain Rosamond watched the clouds; there was no hope
that the evening would clear up, and she turned to Laura to
ask her whether this was not very provoking; but Laura was
reading instead of watching the clouds.
Rosamond thought that what Laura was reading must be
very interesting, as it could fix her attention in such a moment


as this; and, going up softly behind her sister, she exclaimed,
as she read the title,-" Rivuletta Dear Laura, my mother
gave you that, I remember, a whole week ago, and you have
kept it all this time. Have you not read it before ?"
No," said Laura, "because I happened to have a great
many other things to do, and I reserved the pleasure of read-
ing this till the last; and now this rainy evening I have
something to make me amends."
"For not going out," said Rosamond; "I should like to
see whether it would make me amends too. I am glad you
kept it for a rainy evening; that was very prudent, as mamma
says. Now, you have only read one page, will you be so
very good as to begin again, and read it to me?"
Laura kindly complied with her sister's request, and as
soon as Rosamond had settled herself to her satisfaction,
began to read the story.


"A dream! I like dreams," said Rosamond; "but I
won't interrupt you."
IT happened towards the middle of June, that I rose re-
markably early to take a walk through the country, before
the sultry beams of the sun had yet heated the atmosphere.
Wandering wherever the windings of the path led me, I
arrived at the gate of a magnificent garden; the gardener
immediately perceiving me, desired that I should walk in,
with which request I readily complied, and surveyed with
delight the variety of shrubs and flowers which the garden
produced. At length, reposing myself among the twisting
branches of a honeysuckle within full view of a large and
costly bed of tulips, Morpheus closed my eyes, and sent to
me from heaven the following dream:-


On the tallest, largest, finest tulip that bloomed in the
garden, methought there settled a butterfly of uncommon



beauty, between wiose downy wings reclined a little fairy.
Her form was inexpressibly elegant; sweetness, and gaiety,
and youth were so blended in her countenance, with inno-


cence and unaffected grace, that she seemed as if she were
that moment come to life. Her flowing robe was tinctured
with all the variety of colours that was possible for nature or
art to conceive; her eyes were of a vivid blue, and her flaxen
hair waved in ringlets upon her shoulders. Small though
she was, I could distinguish every fold in her garment, nay,
even every azure vein that wandered beneath her snowy skin.
As I was thus contemplating her with attention, she disen-
gaged herself from the butterfly which she managed with a
silken rein, leaving it.to range about the garden at pleasure,
and perching herself upon the stem of the tulip, she began
to diversify it with the very finest tinctures. She placed in
her lap a little tablet covered with a numberless variety of
different colours, which she by degrees laid on the surface
of the flower with a pencil made of the softest hairs imagin-
able, wetting it every now and then with the dew-drops that
still remained scattered up and down the leaves. Methought,
as I gazed upon her, that I never in my life beheld a more
beautiful picture. And now that her morning work was just
completed, she gathered a handful of farina* off a neighbour-
-ing flower, and began to sprinkle it over the yet moist tulip,
to give that velvet gloss which is so peculiarly beautiful, when
I happened to turn my head, and, to my great surprise, I
beheld my youngest daughter running to seize hold of the
butterfly, which she was just on the point of catching, when
her foot slipped, and she crushed at once by her fall the
flower and the pretty little object of her wishes; even the
fairy had but a narrow escape, by concealing herself under a
shell that chanced to be beneath the tulip.
The beauty of the scene had now entirely vanished, and I
sawnothing but the bruised flower and the dying insect. A
number of confused ideas danced before my eyes, and my
A kind of small dust found in flowers.


ears were filled with a variety of discordant sounds. At
length a small, shrill voice distinctly articulated the follow-
ing words:-
He who now speaks to you," said the invisible being, "is
the deity of the fairies; and as your curiosity has been
excited with respect to the little fairy you have just seen, it
shall be satisfied. Her name is Rivuletta, and she belongs
to the most delicate species of fairy that exists, to whom the
care of the vegetable creation is given. 'Tis they who, every
revolving season, enliven and beautify the scenes of nature
with such a variety of tinctures; and as they are continually
employed in giving pleasure, they are peculiarly happy.
What occupation can be more delightful than theirs?
"Yet think not from this partial view that they are ex-
empted from the universal lot of every being, they have their
miseries, in common with others. Are there not frosts to
nip? Are there not heats to parch? Are there not rains to
drown, and blights to blast the fairest of their produce?
Nay, have they not more to fear than all these ? Has not
their sad experience taught them that many a flower wastes
in its sweetness, and dies neglected by mankind? *
"And consider what those must feel who are doomed to
toil upon such neglected beauties. Have they not likewise
learned what to expect from Man, who robs them of their
choicest sweets ere they arrive at full perfection ?
"To all these various- evils the little fairies are continually
subject, and fortunate, indeed, is she who escapes them all.
And now look yonder," said the invisible being; observe
that 'tulip and that insect which formerly constituted the
*Full many a gem of purest ray serene,
The dark, unfathomed caves of ocean bear ;
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.
GRAY's Elegy written in a Country Churchyard.


whole happiness of the unfortunate Rivuletta. She is now,
by the folly of the child, deprived for ever of it, and rendered
miserable for the rest of her life. How often have I viewed
her, proudly mounted on her gilded butterfly, ascend to the
higher regions of the sylphs, with them
To sport and flutter in the fields of air,
and then descend with equal joy upon her favourite flower,
the loss of which, by one of the laws of her society, dooms
her to perpetual slavery."
Methought that the deity was just going to explain the
reason of this, when my attention was unexpectedly diverted
by the appearance of the fairy, who was slowly riding on a
sable moth. Her robes, which but a little while before had
looked so gay, were now of the darkest green colour; her
countenance was pale and wan, and I discovered that she
really had become a slave since I had seen her; for as she
drew nearer to the remains of her butterfly, and stretched
out her hand to reach them, I heard the sound of a heavy
chain upon her little feeble arm.
I here gave a deep sigh, and with the violence of my
emotion I awoke, and, hearing the buzzing of the bees, I
suddenly recollected myself. I arose from my seat to pursue
my walk homewards, painting upon every butterfly that I
saw the image of Rivuletta.
As I was thus recalling to my memory the delightful vision
which I had just beheld, I found that what at first so strongly
caught my senses now began to touch my heart, and that
even in the wildest flights of the imagination reason can trace
a moral. The familiar shape and humble species of the
insect had made me look with indifference on its sufferings,
though it expired in agony at my feet; whilst the fair form,
graceful motion, and elegant attire of the fairy had given im-


portance to her imaginary distress, and wrung my heart with
the tenderest compassion.
After Laura had finished reading, Rosamond exclaimed,
"Is that all? I wish there were more of it."
"Why, Rosamond," said her mother, smiling, "you forget
that the grass is wet, and that it has not done raining."
"Yes, mamma, and I was quite wrong when I said there
would be no more pleasure to-day. There are different sorts
of pleasure, mamma. I was happy whilst Laura was reading
to me, and I was happy when I was running on the grass a
little while ago; and when I can't have one thing that I like,
I may still find out something else that will entertain me.
Thank you, Laura, for reading Rivuletta. I remember the
pretty fairy's name. Mamma, is it true that somebody really
dreamt this nice dream; and who was it, mamma? Do you
know the person?"
It is not true, my dear; it was invented and written by
a very young person."
"The same boy who wrote The Injured Ass,' mamma ? '
"No, my dear, but a sister of his."
"How old was she when she wrote it, mamma ?"
"She was just thirteen."
"Was she good, mamma? Was she like Laura, or was
she vain and proud?"
"She was good. She was neither vain nor proud, though
she was uncommonly beautiful, and superior in understanding
to any person of her age that I ever was acquainted with."
Was, mamma?" said Laura.
Was, my dear; she is no more. Her parents lost her
when she was but fifteen."



"HERE is the rosebud, mamma, that we put into water
yesterday," said Rosamond; "look how prettily it has blown;
and smell it; it has some smell to-day. I am glad I did
not pull it open. The to-morrow that I wished for is come;
' To-day is the to-morrow of yesterday.'* May I go and
gather a bit of sweet-briar, mamma, for you, to wear with
this rose ?"
"Yes, my dear," said her mother; "and then follow us
along the west shrubbery walk. We are going to look at the
Hyacinths Then I'll make a great deal of haste."
Impatient to follow her mother along the west shrubbery
walk, and to see the hyacinths, Rosamond unluckily forgot
that sweet-briar has thorns. She plunged her hand into the
first sweet-briar bush she came to, but hastily withdrew it,
exclaiming, "How sweet-briar pricks one!" She next
selected, with rather more care, a slender sprig on the out-
side of the shrub; but though she pulled, and pulled, she
could not break off this twig, and she shook the whole bush
with her efforts. A straggling overgrown branch, armed
with thorns, bent down as Rosamond shook its neighbours,
and caught fast hold of the riband of her straw hat; she
struggled, but it was in vain to struggle, so at last she quietly
untied her hat, drew her head out of danger, disengaged her
riband, and at length, with scratched hands and a thorn in
her finger, followed her mother to the hyacinths.
"Here, mamma, is the sweet briar," she said; "but I
don't like sweet briar; for I have run a thorn into my finger
The words psed by a child five years old.


in gathering it; it is full of thorns. I don't like sweet-
"You do not like thorns, I fancy you mean," said her
mother. "Come here, and I will take the thorn out for
you; where is this terrible thorn? "
You can't see it, mamma, because it is gone a great way
into my finger, below the skin. Oh !-that hurts me very
much," cried Rosamond, shrinking back as her mother
touched the finger.
"I am trying, my dear," said her mother, "to find out
whereabouts the thorn is."
"It is there, just under your finger, mamma," said Rosa-
"Then if you can lend me a needle, Rosamond, I will
take it out in a moment."
"Here is a needle," said Rosamond, producing, with an
air of satisfaction, her red morocco housewife, "here's a
small needle, mamma; but you will not hurt me, will
"As little as I possibly can, my dear," said her mother,
"but I must hurt you a little."
"Then, mamma," said Rosamond, putting her hand
behind her, "if you please I had rather not have the thorn
taken out at all."
"Oh, Rosamond! what a coward you are," exclaimed
her brother, who was standing by, and he began to laugh in
rather an insulting manner; but he stopped himself when
his mother said, Had not we better reason with Rosamond
than laugh at her?
"Yes, mamma, let us reason," said Rosamond: but she
still kept her hand behind her.
Would you rather bear a great deal of pain or a little ?"
said her mother.


"A little, mamma," said Rosamond: "and that is the
reason that I say I would rather bear to have the thorn as it
is in my finger, than bear the great pain of having it pulled
"But how do you know that it would give you a great
deal of pain to have the thorn pulled out ? "
I don't know, mamma, but I fancy-I believe it would,"
said Rosamond, fixing her eyes upon the point of the needle
which her mother held in her hand.
"Do you remember ever having had a thorn taken out of
your finger?"
"No, mamma; and that is the very reason I am afraid oi
it; so I had rather bear the pain of the thorn, that I do
know, than the pain of having it taken out, which I do not
But though you may have never felt, or never remember
to have felt, what it is to have a thorn taken out of your
singer, you have friends probably who could assist you by
heir experience. Here is Laura, for instance; she always
speaks the truth, you can believe what she says, cannot
you ?"
Oh, yes, certainly."
"I took a thorn out of her hand yesterday."
"Did it hurt you much, Laura?" said Rosamond.
"Very little," said Laura, "the pain was not more than
the prick of a pin."
I could bear the prick of a pin," said Rosamond, hold-
ing out her hand, "but I think, mamma, the thorn is gone;
I scarcely feel it now."
If it is gone, my dear, I am glad of it," said her mother,
"there is no occasion that you should bear even the prick
of a pin for nothing. I only advised you to choose the
least of two evils. But why does your little finger stick out


from all the rest of your fingers?" continued her mother,
observing that as Rosamond rolled up her housewife, this
little finger never bent along with its companions.
"Don't you know, mamma," said Rosamond, "this is the
finger that has the thorn in it?"
"Oh, then the thorn is in it still," said her mother; "I
thought it was out just now; am I to believe that it is both
in and out at the same time?"
"No, mamma," said Rosamond, laughing; "but till I
tried to bend my finger, I did not feel the thorn; it does
not hurt me in the least whilst I hold it still, and whilst I
hold it out quite straight-so, mamma."
"And it is your intention to hold your finger out, quite
straight and quite still, Rosamond, all the remainder of your
"Oh no, mamma, that would tire me very much indeed;
I should be tired before I had held it in that position one
day or one hour, I'm sure; for I begin to be rather tired
"As long as you prefer this inconvenience to bearing the
prick of a needle, it cannot be very troublesome. Here is
your needle, my dear; put it into your housewife, and now
let us go to the hyacinths."
Must I put my hand in my pocket again? I must use
my other hand," said Rosamond, stretching her left
hand across to her right pocket, in a strange awkward
And that is the way, my dear, you intend to get things
out of your pocket in future ? said her mother.
"No, mamma," said Rosamond, laughing, "nor shall I
have any pleasure in looking at the hyacinths till this thorn
is out. I think my finger is swelling, mamma; and it
certainly is red all round the joint. Look, mamma."


"I do not in the least doubt it, my dear," said her mother
"But can you tell me what the end of it will be ?"
"The end of what, my dear?"
"The end of my leaving the thorn in my finger?"
"The consequence of it, I suppose you mean. The
probable consequences are, my dear, that the finger will
fester, or gather. You may remember--"
Oh, I do remember, indeed," interrupted Rosamond,
"last winter my foot gathered. I know what you mean by
that; I recollect the pain that I felt then: it was much
more than the pricks of a hundred pins. Mamma, will you
be so good as to take the thorn out for me. Here is the
Her mother took the thorn out for Rosamond; the pain
was soon over; and when her mother showed her the thorn
sticking upon the point of the needle, she rejoiced, and,
bending her finger, exclaimed, "Now I can use my finger
again. Thank you, mamma.' You see, at last I did choose
the least of the two evils."
"You have done prudently, and I'm glad of it," said her
mother; "and now let us go and look at the hyacinths. I
dare say, Rosamond, this thorn will make you remember
to be more careful the next time you go to gather sweet-
"Yes, that it will, mamma, I dare say; pain makes one
remember things very well. And pleasure too, mamma,
makes one remember things longer still, I think; for since
you gave me this nice little housewife," said Rosamond,
who had taken out her housewife to put by her needle, "I
have never forgotten to put-my needle into its place."


"OH, mamma, how beautiful they are 1" cried Rosamond
running up to the hyacinth bed-" pink, and blue; and lilac.
I don't know which I like best, they are all so pretty; and
they have a delightful smell, mamma. But what can be the
meaning of this ? added she, pointing with a look of mourn-
ful surprise to a'ridge of earth, on which lay several faded
hyacinths that had been newly pulled up. They were lying
with their flowers downwards, and the gardener was just
going to cover them up with earth.- "And must they be
buried alive? What a pity! 3 My not we save the life of
this beautiful pink one, mamma? The others, to be sure,
are a little withered, but this," she said, :'liiig up the head
of a tall pink hyacinth, "look at it, now it stands upright.
The new earth has soiled italittle,butwe'll shake off the earth."
Rosamond gave the hyacinth a gentle shake, not such a
shake as she gave the sweet-briar bush; the earth still clung
to the flower. Rosamond shook the stem a little more, and
several of the pink flowers fell to the ground, so that only
the bare green stalk now remained upright.
"Well, that may be buried," said Rosamond; but she
raised another of its companions from the earth. "A blue
hyacinth-quite fresh, mamma !"
Look at the other side of it, my dear," said her mother.
"It is a little withered on the other side, to be jre..
mamma," said Rosamond, "but it would look very well in a
flower-pot with others. Why must they be buried?"
"The gardener, who has had more experience than you
or I upon this subject, says that he buries them in this
manner to strengthen their roots."


Their roots !" said Rosamond. But what signify those
ugly roots, in comparison with these beautiful flowers ? "
These beautiful flowers, you know, come from those ugly
"But why need they be strengthened any more, mamma ?
We have the flowers already."
Next year we shall have fresh flowers, if we take care of
these roots, but if we were to throw them away, we should
see no blooming hyacinths next spring."
"Next spring! It will be a great while, mamma, before
next spring."
"Yesterday, my dear," said her mother, "you thought
that to-day would never come; but you see my rosebud is
blown," said her mother, taking the early rosebud out of her
"Ah! very true, mamma," said Rosamond, "but a year
is quite another thing."
"To look forward a whole year," said her mother, "is
certainly rather too much to expect from a little girl who has
only just learned to look forward a whole day; but, however,
it is possible that Rosamond may in time learn to think of
next year as well as of to-morrow. Now, Rosamond, take
your choice. You may have either those six hyacinth flowers
that lie upon that ridge, or you may have their six roots,
whichever you please."
As she finished speaking she gathered the hyacinths, and
the gardener, by her desire, picked up the roots, and placed
them in a heap before Rosamond.
Rosamond looked alternately at the flowers and the roots.
"The flowers, to be sure, are withered, and next year
there will be fine fresh flowers that will last a fortnight,
or perhaps a month, and these will be quite gone in a few
hours," said Rosamond.


Yet the idea of the present pleasure of putting the
hyacinths into her flower-pot charmed Rosamond's mind,
and she looked in her mother's eyes anxiously.

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"Don't consult my eyes, Rosamond," said her mother,
smiling, "you shall see nothing in my eyes;" and her
mother turned away her head. "Use your own under-

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standing, because you will not always have my eyes to see
"Look at me again, mamma, and I will use my own
understanding. Do you mean that if I choose the roots,
you will give me leave to keep them in your ground?
You know, if I have no ground to plant them in, they
would be of no use to me, and then I had better choose
the flowers."
"Very true, Rosamond," said her mother; "I am glad
that you are so considerate. I do mean to give you some
ground to plant the roots in, if you choose the roots."
"Then, mamma, I do choose the roots. Are you pleased
with my choice, mamma?"
My dear," said her mother, "I hope you will be pleased
with it, for it is your affair, and not mine."
But don't you think I have made a wise choice, mamma ?
A little while ago, when I chose to have the thorn pulled
out rather than not have it in my finger, you said I had done
very prudently, to choose the least of two evils, and that you
were glad of it. And now, mamma, I have chosen the
greatest of two pleasures, and that is prudent too; and are
not you glad of it ?"
"Thank you, mamma. And when shall I plant the
hyacinths? To morrow, mamma?"
"No, my dear, not till next spring; leave them here, and
the gardener shall take care of them for you, till it is the
proper time to plant them next year."


MANY agreeable things engaged Rosamond's attention
during the year that elapsed while the hyacinth roots lay
buried in sand. Her mother gave her a little bit of ground
for a garden; andas it was in vain to think of having hyacinths
before the proper season, Rosamond begged that her mother
would be so good as to give her some seeds, which she
might in the meantime sow her garden.
What sort of seeds do you want, Rosamond ? said her
"Any sort, mamma; all sorts, if you please."
"Have you room to sow all sorts of seeds, Rosamond, do
you think, in your little garden? For instance, turnip,
carrot, cabbage, and cauliflower seeds, and peas and beans,
Oh, no, mamma; all those would take up a great deal too
much room. I can't have all sorts of seeds, to be sure; there-
fore, if you please, I will have only flower-seeds ?"
"All sorts of flower-seeds ?"
"No, no, mamma; you know I have not room for all, but'
I should like to have those which will come up the quickest,
and which will be the prettiest."
"Perhaps you cannot have both these at once. For
instance, pinks and carnations you think pretty."
"Oh, yes, mamma I must have pinks and carnations in
my garden. I mean, if you please, for they are beautiful."
"But I cannot please to make them grow as fast as you
perhaps expect, Rosamond."
"If I sow pinks and carnations this very day, mamma,
how soon shall I have a nosegay of them ? "


"Probably next year."
Rosamond sighed, and said that if carnations were so long
in growing, she would rather have sweet peas, or anything
else; and she asked her mother what would come up the
soonest of anything she could plant. Her mother told her
that she believed mustard-seed would be the most likely to
answer her purpose, if she was determined upon having what
would grow with the greatest expedition.
Mustard-seed, compared with pinks, carnations, sweet-peas,
or sweetwilliams, did not quite suit Rosamond's fancy. She
now also called to mind the dishes of peas and beans of
her brother Orlando's raising, of which she had eaten last
year; and she wavered, long between the useful and the
beautiful, between the slow and the quick-growing vege-
When you have decided, my dear," said her mother, ask
your sister Laura to write down the names of the seeds that
you wish to have; but do not talk to me any more about
the matter, because I am going to read. I have listened to
your changes of opinion now for nearly a quarter of an
"I have decided entirely now," said Rosamond, "only I
am sorry I can't have everything I wish."
"Th'at you cannot, indeed, my dear, or anybody else, I
assure you; therefore begin by deciding what you wish for
most; then let us see if it be possible to get it; if it can be
had, so much the better; if it cannot, then you must consider
what you like the next best, and so on. I advise you to take
a whole day to consider about it; for as soon as you have
given me your list of seeds, I shall not listen to any changes
of opinion afterwards."
Rosamond's list was written and re-written by Laura many
times during the course of this day. Sometimes Rosamond


attended prudently to the sober counsel of her elder brother,
the experienced gardener, Orlando; at other times she more
eagerly listened to the brilliant ideas of her younger brother
Godfrey. He talked of cucumbers, and melons, and grapes,
and peaches, and nectarines; whilst Orlando represented that
hotbeds and hothouses would be necessary for these-that
Rosamond would not know how to manage them, and that
it would be safer to begin with things that would require less
care and skill. He showed Rosamond a little journal of all
that he had done in his garden the last year, and an account
of all that it had produced. She had now the means of
judging what she could do herself; and she made out her
list of seeds from Orlando's journal.
This is a very reasonable, sensible list," said her mother.
"I am surprised that you, Rosamond, who have had no ex-
perience in gardening, could judge so well as you have done."
"Mamma," said Rosamond, "I judged by Orlando's
journal: here it is. It tells me all thathe did, mamma. It
is an exact Aistory, he says, of his garden; and from this I
can learn, mamma, what I should do, and what I should not
do, in my garden; and it will save me a great deal of trouble,
and save me from making mistakes. So, though I have had
no experience, as you say, myself, I can learn by Orlando's
experience, mamma."
Rosamond made such good use of her brother's history
that her little garden was soon brought into good order,
and she did not expect that her seeds and her flowers
should grow faster than any other persons. She made, to
be sure, some few mistakes, and suffered some few dis-
appointments, for there are things which are to be learned
only by our own experience-the advantage of perseverance,
perhaps, is one of them.
Rosamond was apt to vary her plans too often to bring


things to perfection. Sometimes her walks were to be
straight, sometimes serpentine. She "changed round to
square, and square again to round." Every new visitor
found some new fault, or suggested some new improve-
ment, and Rosamond wearied herself with perpetual en-
deavours to please everybody, till at length, convinced
that this was impossible, since people had such different
tastes, she resolved to abide by what should be decided
to be best by the best judges; and one evening, when
her mother came to look at her garden, she appealed to her.
"I am determined, mamma, to make my garden exactly
what you think the prettiest. Do you like my mound,
mamma? Godfrey does not like my mound, though I have
worked a whole week at it, mamma; and I should have
had a salad by this time, in that very place, if I had not
dug up the seeds in making the mound. But, dear mamma,
come on, and look at my labyrinth. Godfrey told me
about the labyrinth of Crete, mamma, and this is to be
the labyrinth of Crete; he showed me how to make it.
It is but just begun, mamma. I'm afraid you can't"
understand it. It is to go zigzag-zigzag, through this
"But what are these little green things? There seems
to be something coming up here."
"Only mignonette, mamma. But if you don't think you
shall like our labyrinth, I won't finish it. Indeed, I believe
it will be too narrow to walk in, and I had better not
spoil the mignonette. I can give you nice nosegays of
mignonette. But, mamma, there's another thing-we are
thinking of digging a pond here."
"What I in the midst of your fine bed of turnips? And
where will you get your water to fill your pond ?"
"When it rains, mamma; and then, you know, it will


be very useful to have a pond full of water, with which
we can water the turnips and everything."
But the turnips must be pulled up to make room for
the pond."
"True, mamma," said Rosamond, but still I shall have
mignonette, since I mean to give up the labyrinth, and
mignonette must be watered in hot weather."
"And do you think that your pond will be full of water
in hot weather? Do you think the rain will never dry up
in your pond?"
"Ah! that is what we are sadly afraid of, mamma; but
then, in rainy weather the pond will be quite full, and
very useful."
"Very useful! what, to water your mignonette while it
is raining? Will not the rain do as well as the rain-water
out of your pond ?"
Rosamond confessed that she had not made this reflec.
tion, and she gave up the scheme of the pond.
"And now, mamma," said she, "lay out my garden for
me, as Godfrey says, exactly to your own taste, and I will
alter it all to-morrow to please you."
"I advise you, Rosamond, not to alter' it," said her
mother. "Wait till all the things you have planted come
to perfection, and don't give up what is useful for what is
useless. As to the rest, please your own taste."
"But the thing is, mamma, that if I don't alter and
alter continually, I have nothing to do, and I am tired
of my garden, if it looks ever so nice."
You are in the right, my dear little Rosamond, to try
to find out the cause of your own actions. So, then, you
change your plans continually for want of something to do.
Look at all those weeds in that shrubbery," said her mother;
" those are easily pulled up, especially the groundsel."


"Yes, mamma."
"Well, employ yourself in weeding that shrubbery for
me. Here is a basket. Bring your little hoe."
"I can pull the groundsel up with my hand, mamma,"


V r

said Rosamond; and she set to work with great alacrity.
"Rosamond," said her mother, "when you have weeded
this piece of the shrubbery, from this variegated holly to
that larch, quite clean, I will give you three of those little
laburnums that you wished to have a few days ago."


"Oh, thank you, mamma," said Rosamond, "but I'm
afraid I shall be a great while doing this, for I see a great
many weeds."
She worked hard that day, and filled her basket quite
up to the top with groundsel; and she calculated that if
she filled this basket with weeds every day, she should
have cleared from the variegated holly to the larch in a
For some rainy days and some accidents she had not
allowed, but at the end of a fortnight the work was com-
pleted, and her mother gave her the three little laburnums.
Rosamond transplanted them immediately into her garden.
She was surprised and rejoiced to find that her mignonette
and her turnips, during this fortnight of tranquility, had
come forward finely. A few weeds had made their appear-
ance, but those she soon pulled up, and, resolving to make
no useless alterations in her garden, she returned to her
mother, and asked for fresh employment.
"Go on weeding the shrubbery, from the larch to the
large laurel," said her mother; "that will be a month's
work, and, if you do it well, I will give you the little laurel
that grows near your garden."
Rosamond in due time earned the laurel, and she had
now acquired the habit of regularly employing herself, so
that she liked the work, even without thinking of her
promised rewards. She earned several pretty shrubs,
amongst others a fine damask rose-tree, by her summer
and autumn work-earned, perhaps, we should not say, for
the rewards her mother gave to her were certainly above
the value of her work, but her mother said she thought
that a few shrubs were well bestowed in teaching her little
daughter industry and perseverance.
"The same industry and perseverance, Rosamond," said


she, "that you show in weeding this shrubbery, may be
turned to a great many other useful things."
"Yes, mamma, I hope, when winter evenings come,"
said Rosamond, "you will be so very good as to teach me
to write. I wish I could write the history of my garden
as nicely as Orlando wrote his journal."
The history of Rosamond's garden was this year much to
her credit. She had
4 dishes of radishes,
6 dishes of tongue-grass,
i dish of turnips.
Peas failed for want of room. She had several nosegays of
pansies, sweet-peas, and mignonette. The three laburnums
which she transplanted in the spring, and which she had
the courageous patience to leave in peace all the summer,
flourished beyond her most sanguine expectations; and
Orlando gave it as his opinion, that they would bear fine
yellow flowers in the ensuing spring. But alas I early one
hot morning in August, when Rosamond went with her little
green watering-pot to water her favourite lauburnums, she
Found the two finest of them broken, and the other
stripped of its leaves. She ran to her brother Orlando,
and asked him to come to her garden. He came, he
saw the poor laburnums, but he could do them no good.
"Who can have done all this mischief?" cried Rosa-
mond; "and why should anyone do me mischief? I never
do mischief to anybody or to anything. Who can have
done all this?"
"I'll tell you who has done all this mischief," said
Orlando, after he had closely examined the little laburnums.
I'll tell you who has done all this mischief-a rabbit. Look,
here are the marks of his nibbling teeth. Look at these
bitten leaves."


"Mischievous rabbit good-for-nothing animal!" ex-
claimed Rosamond.
However, for your comfort," continued Orlando, "here's
one of your laburnums that may do very well yet."
"Oh, but the rabbit will come again," said Rosamond.
"What can I do? how shall I keep him away? he'll eat
everything I have in the world," added Rosamond, in whose
imagination this rabbit now appeared an unconquerable
wild beast.
"He will not eat everything you have in the world," said
Orlando, soberly; "but, to be sure, there is some danger of
his eating your laburnums; and he does not know that
there is any harm in eating them."
I wish he would only be so good as not to eat mine,"
said Rosamond.
Nor mine," cried Orlando; "you would not have him
eat mine? He'll come to me next, I'm afraid, as soon as
he has done with you."
"Done with me! So, then, do you think he'll go on
eating? "
"To be sure; he will eat as long as he is alive, I
suppose," said Orlando, with calm gravity; "and we have
no right to kill him for eating, even your laburnums; eh ?"
"Kill him !" repeated Rosamond, shrinking back; "no,
I would not kill or hurt any animal; you know, that would
be cruel. Poor rabbit! I don't want to hurt him, though
he has eaten my laburnums. He did not know, as you say,
that he was doing any harm. I only want to hinder him, if
I can, from doing me more mischief; but I'm sure I don't
know how; for I can't build a wall; and I have nothing
of which I can make a hedge. I don't want to hurt
the rabbit, but to hinder him from hurting me. Poor


Orlando was much pleased by the humanity with which
Rosamond spoke of her enemy, the rabbit; and he knew by
experience how provoking it is to see the fruits of one's own
labours destroyed.
"I'll see about it for you, Rosamond," said he, after
musing for some time. "I don't say I can do it; but we'll
see what can be done. I think I can save your last
The next morning all the family were at breakfast before
Orlando appeared. This was an unusual circumstance, for
he was generally as punctual as the clock.
I know where he is," said Godfrey; "he has just run
down to Rosamond's garden, to look at something."
"I am sure that's very good of him. I know that you
mean my poor laburnum," cried Rosamond; but, mamma,
had not I better go and tell him it is time to eat his break-
Rosamond had just slid down from her chair, when
Godfrey stopped her with an eager hand. "The something
is not a laburnum, Rosamond; and you are not to know
anything about it. I am sorry I happened to say something,
for I desired to say nothing."
At this instant, Orlando made his appearance, with a
wooden box in his hand, about two feet long, sixteen inches
broad, and nine inches high.
"What is that?" cried Rosamond.
Orlando placed the box on the table before her. "It is
nothing," said he, "but an old box, as far as I can
But Rosamond had not looked far, she had only looked at
the sides next her. At length, observing that everybody
smiled, she went round to the place where Godfrey, who
seemed to see farther than she did, was standing.


"Ha!" cried she, "here's glass on this side of the box! "
There was a small hole cut in this side of it, about the
size of a card; and this hole was covered with glass.
"I see something white behind the glass," she said.
"No, it's brown, not white," cried Godfrey.
It was white just now," replied Rosamond. "It has
changed; it moves it must be something alive."
Rosamond put her face closer to the spy-hole, and, look-
ing in, she saw a brown and white rabbit crouching down in
the farthest corner of the box.
"Dear Orlando, the rabbit! How did you get him? Is
he hurt?" cried Rosamond.
"He is not in the least hurt," said Orlando, and he
showed Rosamond how he had caught the rabbit.*
I am glad we have caught him, and that he is not hurt,"
said Rosamond.
But now, what shall we do with him ?" said Orlando.
"Pretty little animal, what nice white ears and feet he
has !" said Rosamond, still looking at him through the glass,
"but he keeps"himself squeezed up, and moves his quick
eyes and his long ears continually. I wish he would come
out of that corner."
"He dare not; he dare not move," said Orlando, "he's
frightened out of his wits."
"That's a pity," said Rosamond; "for if he was not so
frightened, he might be very happy in this box; it is quite
a room to him."
"But he is not used to living in a room," said Orlando,
"and, maybe, that's one reason he does not like it."
"Well, he'll grow used to it, and then he'll like it," said
A description of this trap may be seen in "Emerson's Mechanics,"
plate 23, fig. 262. In the more recent octavo edition of this work, the plate
is numbered 45.


"Grow used to it?" said Orlando; "why, do you mean
to keep him a prisoner in this box all his life ?"
"Not a prisoner," said Rosamond; but I should like to
keep him in this box; I'd call it his house, and I would feed
him, not with my laburnums, but with anything else that he
likes; and I would make him the happiest little rabbit in
the world, if mamma likes it."

/ /* I'



* 1/~ //


"You had better consider how the rabbit would like it,
first," said her mother.
"But I mean to do everything for his good," said,
"I have heard my father say, have I not, father? said
Orlando, "that it is contrary to the laws of England to do
anybody good against his will."
"But this rabbit is not everybody," interrupted Godfrey.
It may not be against the laws of England, then," resumed

: ,,


the grave Orlando, to keep him in this box; but I think it
would be cruel."
"Cruel!" cried Rosamond, "I would not be cruel; I tell
you, I mean to make him as happy as the day is long."
"But he'll never be happy; you can't make him happy,
Rosamond, in this box," said Orlando; "you don't consider
that rabbits like to run about; and he can feed himself
better than you can feed him."
"Ay, with my laburnums," said Rosamond, changing her
tone; am I to let him loose again to eat my poor laburnums ?
-that is to say, laburnum-for I have only one left."
At the recollection of the mischief he had done, Rosa-
mond, notwithstanding the rabbit's pretty white ears and feet,
looked at him with dislike; and Orlando seemed at a loss
what to advise. He leaned his elbows upon the top of the
box, and began to meditate.
After some minutes' silence, he exclaimed, I never clearly
understood what was right to be done about animals; what
is cruelty to animals, for if animals hurt us, or hurt our pro-
Yes, our laburnums, for instance," interrupted Rosamond.
"We must defend them, and we must defend ourselves,"
continued Godfrey.
And," resumed Orlando, "how comes it that we think
so compassionately about this one rabbit, under my elbows,"
at the same time knocking his elbow upon the box, which
made the rabbit within start, "yet we eat rabbits very often
at dinner, without thinking at all about the matter?"
That's very extraordinary," said Rosamond; but then
the rabbits that we eat at dinner are dead, and cannot
feel; so we are not cruel in eating them."
"But," said Godfrey, "they are killed on purpose for
us to eat."


"Then the people who kill them are cruel."
But those people would not kill them if we did not want
to eat them."
"I don't want to eat rabbits," said Rosamond; "so I
hope nobody will ever kill any for me."
"But you want to eat beef and mutton," said Orlando; "and
then sheep and oxen are killed instead of rabbits."
"The best way, then," said Rosamond, would be to leave
off eating meat."
"Yes," said Godfrey, "let us begin to-day."
"Stay," said Orlando. "Consider; how should we manage
if all sorts of animals became so numerous that there would
not be food for them and for us? There would never be
wild vegetables enough; and the animals would grow bold
with hunger, and eat the vegetables in our gardens."
Ay," said Rosamond; "and would not it be very unjust
indeed that we should work for them all day ?"
And perhaps, at last," continued Orlando, if we did not
eat animals, they might eat us."
"I think we had better go on eating meat," said Rosa-
mond ; "but I am glad I am not a butcher."
Sheep and oxen do not eat men; but if they increased
so much as to eat all the vegetables, they would in the end
destroy men as effectually by starving them as if they ate
them," said her father.
I don't think we have gone to the bottom of the business
yet," said Orlando; "we have wandered a great way from
"Poor fellow !" said Rosamond, looking into his prison,
"you little think we are talking about you. Orlando, I wish
we could carry him to some place at a great distance from
our gardens, where he might livehappily, and eat what he liked,
without doing us any mischief. Papa, could this be done ?"


My dear," said her father, there is a place, about six
miles from hence, called a rabbit-warren, where great numbers
of rabbits live."
"Oh, father could you be so good," said Rosamond, "as
to have him carried there, and set at liberty ? "
My dear little girl," said her father, I am glad to see
that you are so humane to this animal, who has done you
mischief. It is very reasonable that we should endeavour to
prevent him from doing any further injury, and I think what
you propose is sensible. I know Farmer Early, who lives
near us, goes to-morrow morning, with his covered cart, to
market; he passes by the rabbit-warren, and perhaps he will
take charge of Orlando's box, and carry your rabbit, and set
him at liberty in the warren. We will walk to Mr. Early's
house, Rosamond, and ask him to do so, if you please."
This proposal was received with joy by the whole
assembly; and as soon as Orlando had eaten something
they proceeded to the farmer's.
Mr. Early was out in the fields with his labourers when
they arrived at his house; they were shown into a neat little
room, where a woman, who looked pale and ill, was sitting
at work. A little girl sat beside her, holding her pin cushion
and scissors. The woman folded up her work, and was
going out of the room; but Rosamond's mother begged
that she would stay, and that she would not disturb her-
self. Orlando put his box upon the table. The rabbit had
been very restless during his journey; he had nibbled inces-
santly at his prison-walls, and his operations engrossed the
attention of Rosamond and her brothers till farmer Early's
arrival. It had been agreed that Godfrey should, upon this
occasion, be the speaker; and as soon as Farmer Early
came into the room, he began his speech:
"Sir, you are very hot. I am afraid you have hurried


yourself. We are very sorry to have given you the trouble
of walking home so fast, especially as you had men at work;
but, sir, in this box there is a rabbit--
The farmer stooped down to look into the box, and ex-
claimed, Why, Anne if this is not your tame rabbit that
I brought home for you from Mr. Burrows, of the warren, as
a present, on Monday last."
At these words all eyes turned upon the little girl, who
was holding the pincushion beside the pale workwoman.
Anne (for that was this little girl's name) now came forward
modestly, and, with some emotion, said, as she looked into
the box, "Yes, indeed this is my poor little rabbit. I lost
him yesterday morning. I wondered what had become of
"And how he found his way into this box is altogether
wonderful to me," said Farmer Early, unless so be, that this
here box be in the natur of a trap, which, I take it, is what
it can't well be, neither, as I never see no traps like it; and
how, seeing it is not a trap, your rabbit, Anne, could be 'ticed
into it, anyhow, is a thing I can't verily take upon me to
"Sir," said Orlando, "it is a trap."
Indeed, sir; then it is a most curious, new-fashioned one;
for I've seen a many rabbit and rat-traps, and all sorts, but
never one like this."
Godfrey then explained to the farmer that this trap was
one of Orlando's making; and he gave an account of the
damage that had been done to Rosamond's laburnums; but
he thought that it would not be right to ask the farmer to
take the rabbit to the warren and let it loose, because he had
just heard that it belonged to the little girl; therefore he
stopped short in his speech, and looked at Rosamond first,
and then at his father. Anne," said Farmer Early, "this


is a sad thing that the rabbit eats and spoils the young lady's
I wish we could keep him at home; but that is impos-
sible," said Anne, sorrowfully; and, after a pause, with a
great deal of good nature in her countenance, she added,
"but since he does mischief we had better carry him to the
warren again, and give him back to Mr. Burrows."
The very thing," exclaimed Godfrey, "that we thought
of! but we did not ask it because we were afraid you would
not like to part with the rabbit."
"Anne's very fond of him, that's certain," said Mr. Early,
"therefore the more I look upon it to be well thought of in
her to carry him back to the warren; for you must know a
live rabbit is, as one may say, quite a sight to her, for she's
a Londoner; and everything in the country that we think
nothing of, seeing it, as we do, every day, is quite strange to
her, and a treat like; wherefore, though I don't mean to
praise her, by reason she's in a manner related to me-and
one should not praise one's own, if one can help it, anyways
-yet I may make bold to say that I like Anne the better,
and think the more of her for being so ready to part with her
rabbit at the first word, when it does mischief, you see."
Rosamond and all who were present seemed perfectly to
agree in opinion with the farmer; and Rosamond thanked
the little girl several times "for being so good-natured."
Farmer Early promised to carry the box and the rabbit
in his covered cart to the warren the next morning; and
thus the affair was settled to the satisfaction of all parties.
"Mamma," said Rosamond, as they were walking home,
"did you observe how attentive that little girl was to the
pale woman who was at work? She picked up her thread-
paper, she threaded her needle, she gave her pins as fast as
she wanted them, and watched her eye whenever it turned


to look for anything, just as I should do, mamma, if you
were ill and at work, and I was standing by. Mamma, I
think that little girl was very fond of that woman, who, I
suppose was her mother. Mamma, I saw you speaking to

I l I A
L 'I' _`.

ii A

l4 -O"11

the woman whilst we were going on talking about the rabbit.
Do you know who she is, and anything more about her? "
"She is a dressmaker, my dear, and she told me that
she had been forced to work so hard to maintain herself
and her little girl, that she had hurt her health very much.


She was obliged to sit in a close room in a narrow street in
London all day, and often worked whole nights as well as days.
She was invited'by this farmer Early, who is her cousin,
to pass some time with his family in the country, in hopes
that the fresh country air and exercise might restore her
"That was very good-natured of the farmer; but she was
at work still, mamma. I'm sorry for that."
"She was making a gown for the farmer's wife; for she
said that she was glad to be able to do anything for those
who were so kind to her."
"Oh, that's very right," cried Rosamond; "that is being
grateful. Mamma I wish I could be grateful to the little
girl who was so good to me about the rabbit. I have a
damask rose-tree, mamma, in my garden; the roses are not
blown yet, but when they are blown, mamma, I can give
them to her, and my mignonette. How glad I am that I
did not dig it up to make the labyrinth of Crete. I shall
have a fine nosegay for her, mamma; and you know the
farmer said that everything in the country is a treat to her
-so I daresay she will like my flowers."
Rosamond's damask rose-tree was, from this day forward,
watched with anxious eyes; as it had been transplanted
rather late in the spring, it was not quite so forward as the
other roses. When all the rest of the roses were gone,
however, this tree was in full bloom. Rosamond gathered
the last roses of the year, and these, with some sweet-briar,
which she got without pricking herself, and some fine
mignonette, made a charming nosegay..
"I am glad, Rosamond, to see that you do not forget
your gratitude," said her mother, "your roses and your
mignonette smell very sweet; and I hope the little girl will
like your nosegay."


It was a fine evening, and Rosamond had a pleasant walk
with her mother to Farmer Early's; but what was Rosa-
mond's disappointment, when the farmer told her that Anne
was gone !-that she had that morning set out in the stage-
coach, with her mother, to return to London.
And so, mamma," said Rosamond, "it is all in vain. I
might just as well have forgotten my gratitude."
Have patience, Rosamond," said her mother; "re-
member it a little longer. Perhaps next winter, when we go
to town, we may have some opportunity of obliging this
little girl, or her mother. I have her direction, and if she
be a good dressmaker, as well as a good woman, I shall be
able to be of some service to her."
"You yes, mamma," said Rosamond, "but what can I
do ? You know, I have nothing in this world to give, but
flowers, and I shall have no damask roses in London. You
know, mamma, our new house in London has no garden.
But, dear mamma," said Rosamond, changing from a
lamentable to a joyful tone, "I.have thought of a charm-
ing thing,-my hyacinth-roots! Will you give me leave,
mamma, to take them to London, when we go? and I'll
show you something that Orlando showed me in the little
'Gardener's Pocket Calendar,' mamma, as soon as we get
"Here it is, mamma," cried Rosamond, as soon as she
got home, and showed her mother in "The Gardener's
Pocket Calendar," An improved method of blowing bulbous-
rooted flowers with less trouble and expense than in glasses ;"*
"May I read it to you? Pray, mamma, let me read it to
you. It is not long; and I'll miss all the useless words."
You may read it whilst we are drinking tea, Rosamond,"
See "The Kitchen and Flower Garden," by E. S. Delamer. The work
contains a coloured Frontispiece and numerous Illustrations, and may be
had of the publishers. Price 2s. 6d.


said her mother; and at tea-time, Rosamond read some
very minute and distinct directions for blowing bulbous-
rooted flowers.
"Hyacinths, mamma, you see," she said, "are mentioned
particularly, and I think, if I had such a little box as the
man describes in the book, I could do exactly as he desires,
and I should have hyacinths in full bloom in winter, or very
early in spring, when we shall be in London, and then,
mamma, I should have something to give to the little girl.
She gave up her rabbit, which was a great amusement to
her in the country, and I should be very glad if I could give
her something that would be an amusement to her when she
is in that close room, in that narrow street, which you talked
of, mamma."
Rosamond observed, that in "The Gardener's Calendar"
it was stated that these boxes for hyacinths were peculiarly
adapted for the use of people who love flowers, and who
have only a little yard, or perhaps a window-sill, for their
garden, in London.
Her mother was pleased to observe her eagerness to
oblige the little girl who had obliged her, and she told
Rosamond that if she remembered her gratitude, and the
hyacinth-roots at the proper time, she might carry them to
Winter came; the hyacinth-roots were remembered in
proper time. They were carried safely to town; and, in
due season, they were planted carefully, by Rosamond,
in a little box, which her mother gave her for this
Rosamond, before the hyacinths appeared above ground,
often asked her mother whether she had heard anything of
Anne; but when the hyacinths, at first, like white
almonds, burst through the black mould, Rosamond grew


so fond of them, that she almost wished to keep them for
At length their green leaves and stems grew higher and
higher, and the cluster of pink and blue flowers seemed to
Rosamond more beautiful even than those she had seen the
preceding spring, in her mother's borders.
She was one morning standing at the parlour-window,
contemplating her hyacinths with great delight, and smell-
ing, from time to time, their delicious perfume, when
Godfrey came eagerly into the room.
"I have news to tell you, Rosamond," he cried; but
observing how intent she was upon her hyacinths, he
"I don't know," he continued, "on second thoughts,
whether you will think it good news, or bad. I only know
you would have thought it good news some time ago."
"Tell it to me, however," said Rosamond, "and then I'll
tell you whether I think it good news or bad."
Godfrey, without speaking, went up to the window where
Rosamond was standing. The sun shone bright. He first
praised her hyacinths, and then hooked his fingers, and held
them up in a significant manner; but Rosamond did not
comprehend what this signified till he placed them closer to
the white wall, upon which a shadow, the striking resemblance
of a rabbit's head, was visible.
"Anne's come, then, I'm sure!" exclaimed Rosa-
"Yes, Anne is come," said Godfrey, "but you are not
obliged, you know, to give her your hyacinths, unless you
I do like, I assure you, brother," said Rosamond, proudly,
"I assure you I have not forgotten the rabbit nor my grati-
tude. Where is Anne?"


"In the next room, with my mother."
"Help me to carry the box, then, will you, dear Godfrey ?"
said Rosamond; and she took hold of one handle of the
hyacinth-box, and he of the other.
"Mamma," said Rosamond, as she carried in the box,
"would you be so kind as to have the box carried home foi
her, because it is heavy, and she cannot well carry it through
the streets herself? It is a great deal heavier than our rabbit-
box, and I remember I was tired with carrying that, part of
the way last summer to Farmer Early's."
"I will, my dear," said her mother, "desire a servant to
carry it, if Anne likes to accept of the box of hyacinths;
but you have not asked her yet, have you? "
"No," said Rosamond, "because it is impossible but that
she must like hyacinths."
Rosamond, rather startled, however, by her mother's doubt-
ful look, went up to Anne, and, after thanking her for her
kindness in the affair of the rabbit, asked her eagerly whether
she liked hyacinths.
Now' poor Anne had never in her life seen a
hyacinth, and she modestly answered, "I don't know."
She looked at the box an instant afterwards, and smiled,
as much as to say, "If those are hyacinths, I like them very
much indeed."
Rosamond immediately lifted the box nearer to her.
I am glad you like them," said she. "Mamma says I
may give them to you, and when the flowers wither I advise
you to take care of the roots, because, if you do, you will
have new flowers next year. I'm sure, mamma," added
Rosamond, turning to her mother, "I am glad I took care
of the roots, and I'm glad I chose the roots instead of the
She was going on to give Anne some particular directions,


which she had learned partly from The Gardener's Pocket
Calendar," and partly from experience, concerning the
management of hyacinths and the blowing of bulbous roots,
when she was interrupted by the entrance of a woman, whom
she recognized as the pale invalid that she had formerly seen
at work at Farmer Early's. This poor woman had been
resting herself in the housekeeper's room, for she
had had a long walk that morning from a distant part
of the town, and she was not yet strong enough to bear
much fatigue.
"Well," said Rosamond's mother to her, "have you
removed from that close, unwholesome street, where you
formerly lived ? You promised to let me know when you
heard of any lodgings that would suit you, but I have waited
from day to day, and you have never sent to me."
"No, ma'am," answered the poor woman, "because we
have not been able to agree with a man who has a lodging
that would suit us exactly, but he has other offers, ma'am,
and I'm afraid he won't let me have it. He's a gardener
at Hampstead, where I could get plenty of work,
and should breathe good air, and be in quiet, and, maybe,
get well."
The hyacinths !" exclaimed Rosamond, but she suddenly
checked herself, for she recollected that she had already
given them away. No one understood her exclamation except
the little girl, who immediately smiled, and, in a timid voice,
asked Rosamond whether she would permit her to part with
the hyacinths, in case the gardener took a fancy to them
and should be willing to let her mother have the lodgings in
return for them.
Oh, yes; do whatever you please with them," said Rosa-
mond. "They are yours."
"And," added her mother, you may, my good little girl,


at the same time that you give the hyacinths to the gardener,
tell him that I will answer for your mother's paying the rent
The gardener thought well of lodgers who had hyacinths,
and better of those who offered him good security for his
rent. He thanked Anne, but said he had abundance of
hyacinths, and he gave Anne and her mother leave to walk
in his garden whenever they pleased. Anne had the
hyacinths for herself, and Rosamond had the plea-
sure of seeing Anne and her mother settled in their airy


"ROSAMOND, you did not water your geraniums last night,"
said her mother.
"Yes, mamma-no, mamma, I mean, because I could
not find the rose of the little green watering-pot."
You did not look for it, I think, my dear. It was on
the shelf, directly opposite to you, as you go into the green-
"That shelf is so high above my head that it was impos-,
sible I could see-what was upon it."
But, though the shelf was so high above your head, you
could have seen what was upon it, if you had stood upon
the stool. Could you not?" said Godfrey.
"But the stool was not in the greenhouse."
"Could you not have gone for it?" said Godfrey.
"No, I could not," replied Rosamond, "because it was
very hot, and mamma had just desired me not to run any
more then, because I was too hot."
"Run But could you not have walked, Rosamond."
"No, brother, I could not-I mean that if I walked it
would have done no good, because one of the legs of the
stool is loose, and I could not have carried it, and besides,
it is very dangerous to stand upon a stool which has a loose
leg. Papa himself said so, Godfrey, and the other day he
told me not to stand upon that stool. Besides, after all, why
should I have gone for the stool ? How could I guess that
the rose of the watering-pot was upon that high shelf, when
I did not see the least glimpse of it ?"
"Good excuses, Rosamond," said Godfrey, smiling, "and
plenty of them."


"No, not good excuses, brother," cried Rosamond, "only
the truth. Why do you smile ?"
"Well, not good excuses, I grant," said Godfrey.
"Not excuses at all," persisted Rosamond. "I never make
Upon hearing this, Godfrey burst into a loud and un-
controlled laugh, and Rosamond looked more ready to cry
than to laugh. She turned to her mother, and, appealing to
her, said, "Now, mother, you shall be judge. Do I ever-I
mean, do I often make excuses ?"
"You have only made seven, if I remember rightly, within
the last five minutes," answered her mother.
"Then, mamma, you call reasons excuses?"
"Pardon me, my dear, I did not hear you give one reason,
one sufficient reason. Now, Rosamond, you shall be judge,
and I trust that you will be an upright judge."
"Upright I that is honest. Oh, certainly, mamma."
"Could you not have watered the geraniums without the
rose of the little green watering-pot? "
Why, to be sure-I could have used the red watering-
pot, I own."
"Ah, ah! Now the truth has come out at last, Rosa-
mond cried Godfrey, in a triumphant tone.
His mother checked Godfrey's tone of triumph, and said
that Rosamond was now candid, and that therefore this was
not the time to blame or laugh at her.
"Mother," said Godfrey, "I should not have laughed at.
her so much this time, if she was not always making excuses;
and you know--"
Their mother was called out of the room before Godfrey
could finish what he was going to say. He had said enough
to provoke Rosamond, who exclaimed,
"That is very unjust, indeed, Godfrey! But, if ever I


make a mistake, or do anything in the least degree foolish,
or wrong, you always say that I always do it."
I always say so. No, that I deny," cried Godfrey, laugh-
ing-" whatever I may think, I do not always say you are
"You should not laugh at me, Godfrey, because I am
candid-mamma said so. And I am not always making
"Well, Rosamond, because I am candid, I will acknow-
ledge that you are not always making excuses; but I will
lay you any wager you please, that no day passes, for a
week to come, without your making half-a-hundred, at least."
"Half-a-hundred! Oh, Godfrey! I am content. What
will you lay?"
"My head to a China orange," said Godfrey.
"I would not give a China orange for your head," said
Rosamond; "besides, that is a vulgar expression. But I
will lay you all my kings, Godfrey, against your world, that,
far from making half-a-hundred, I do not make one single
excuse a day, for a whole week to come."
I take you at your word," cried Godfrey, eagerly stretch-
ing out his hand; your kings of England against my
joining map of the world. But," added he, "I advise you,
Rosamond, not to lay such a rash wager; for you will be
sure to lose; and your kings are worth more than my world,
because I have lost some portions of it."
"I know that; but I shall keep my kings, and win all you
have left of the world, you will see."
"Win my world cried Godfrey; "no, no, Rosamond I
Listen.to me; I will not take the advantage of you. I will
allow you ten excuses a day."
"No, thank you, brother," said Rosamond; "one a day
is quite enough for me."


"You abide by your wager, then, Rosamond."
"To be sure I do, Godfrey."
Then we begin to-morrow; for, you know, to-day cannot
be counted, because you made seven in five minutes."
"I know that," interrupted Rosamond; "to-day goes for
nothing; we begin to-morrow, which is Monday."
Monday came, and so strict was the guard which Rosa-
mond kept over herself, that she did not, as even Godfrey
allowed, make one single excuse before breakfast-time, though
she was up an hour and a half. But, in the course of the
morning,-when her mother found some fault with her writing,
and observed that she had not crossed the letter t, Rosamond
Mamma, it was the fault of the pen, which scratched so,
that I could not write with it."
"An excuse An excuse !" cried Godfrey.
"Nay, try the pen yourself, Godfrey, and you will see how
it scratches and sputters, too."
"But let it scratch or sputter ever so much, how could it
prevent you from crossing the letter t whenever it occurs ?''
It could; because, if I had crossed these long letters with
that pen, the whole page would have been speckled and
spoiled, just like this line, where I did begin to cross them.'
"Could you not take another pen, or mend this, or
ask mamma to mend it? Oh, Rosamond, you know this
is an excuse."
"Well, it is only one," said Rosamond; "and you know
that if I do not make more than one in a day, I win the
"There is a great blot," said Godfrey.
Because I hadnoblotting-paper, brother,"said Rosamond.
The moment she had uttered the words, she wished to
recall them; for Godfrey exclaimed,


"You have lost the day, Rosamond! there's another
excuse; for it is plain you had blotting-paper on your
desk. Look, here it is."
Rosamond was ashamed and vexed. "For such a little,
tiny excuse,, to lose my day," said she; and when I really
did not see the blotting-
paper. But, however, this is
only Monday; I will take
better care of Tuesday."
Tuesday came, and had
nearly passed in -an irre-
proachable manner; but, at
supper, it happened that
Rosamond threw down a
jug, and as she picked it up
again, she said,
"Somebody put it so near
S/ i the edge of the table, that
S. I could not help throwing it
V down."
i., ) This Godfrey called an
excuse, though Rosamond
/ f protested that she did not
mean it for one. She pleaded
S/ further, that it would be
hard, indeed, if she were to
lose her day for only just
making this observation,
when it must be clear to everybody that it could not be
meant for an excuse, because the jug was not broken by
the fall, and it was empty, too. Moreover, not the least
mischief had been done to anything or any creature; and
no one had even blamed her, so that, as Rosamond said,


she had not had the slightest temptation to make an
This was all true, but Godfrey would not allow it.
That she had no temptation to make an excuse, Godfrey
was most willing to grant; but he would not admit that it
was therefore certain she had made none. On the contrary,
he maintained, that Rosamond was in the habit of vindicating
herself, even when no one blamed her, and when there was
no apparent cause for making any apology. To support this
assertion, Godfrey recollected and recalled several instances
in which Rosamond, days, weeks, and months before this
time, had done that of which she was now accused.
"Well," said Rosamond, "it is only Tuesday; I will
give it up to you, brother, rather than dispute about it
any more."
"That is right, Rosamond," said her mother.
Wednesday came. Rosamond determined, that whenever
she was found fault with, she would not say anything in her
own defence; she kept this resolution heroically. When
her mother said to her,
"Rosamond, you have left your bonnet on the ground, in
the hall."
Godfrey listened to Rosamond's reply, in the full expecta-
tion that she would, according to her usual custom, have
"Because I had not time to put it by, mamma;" or, "be-
cause papa called me;" or, "because somebody threw it
down, after I had hung it up."
But to his surprise Rosamond made none of these her
habitual excuses: she answered:
Yes, mamma, I forgot to put it in its place; I will go and
put it by this minute."
Godfrey attended carefully to every word Rosamond said


this day; and the more she saw that he watched her the
more cautious she became. At last, however, when Godfrey
was not in the room, and when Rosamond was less on her
guard, she made three excuses, one after another,
about a hole in her gown, which she had neglected to
"Mamma, it is not my fault; I believe it was torn
at the wash."
But it was proved, by the
fresh edges of the rent, that
{ it must have been torn since
it had been ironed.
Rosamond next said she
S had not seen the hole till
; .' after she had put the gown
on; and t/en, she could not
mend it, because it was so
S,,'' far behind.
"Could you not have
Taken the gown off again?"
her mother asked.
S "Yes, mamma, but I had
not fine thread enough."
S "But you had cotton
that was fine enough, Rosa-
mond. Three excuses !"
"Oh, mamma! have I made three excuses?" cried
Rosamond. "This day, too, when I took such
Godfrey came back, and seeing his sister look sorrowful,
he asked what was the matter. She hesitated, and seemed
very unwilling to speak ; at last she said,
You will be glad of what I am sorry for!"


Ha! then I guess what it is; you have lost the day again,
and I have won it !"
Godfrey clapped his hands in triumph, and capered about
the room.
"My world is safe safe I really thought Rosamond
would have had it to-day, mamma "
Rosamond could hardly repress her tears; but *Godfrey
.was so full of his own joy, that he did not attend to her
After all, it is only Wednesday, brother, remember that!"
cried Rosamond. I have Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and
Sunday to come; I may win the day, and win the world
"Not you!" said Godfrey, scornfully--"you will go on
the same to-morrow as to-day. You see, you have acquired
such a habit of making excuses, that you cannot help it, you
cannot cure yourself; at least, not in a week. So I am
"So that is all you think of, brother; and you don't care
whether I cure myself of my faults or not?" said Rosamond,
while the tears trickled down her cheeks. "You wish indeed
that I should not cure myself. Oh, brother, is this right ? is
this good-natured ? is this like you ?"
Godfrey changed countenance, and, after standing still and
thinking for a moment, said,
"It is not like me; it is not good-natured; and I am not
sure that it is right. But, my dear Rosamond! I do
care about you, and I do wish you would cure yourself of
your faults; only this week I wish-in short, I cannot help
wishing to win my wager."
That is very natural, to be sure," said Rosamond; but
I am sorry for it; for we used to be so happy together, and
now, you are always glad when I am sorry, and sorry when


I am glad; and when I do most wrong, you are most glad.
And all for the sake of keeping your paltry world, and win-
ning my poor kings "
No, indeed I exclaimed Godfrey, it is not for the sake
of the world or the kings; for you know I would give you
my world, or anything I have upon earth, Rosamond." *
"Yes," said Rosamond, wiping away her tears "I re-
member, you offered me your world the first day you had it;
but I would not take it, and I don't want it now; I would
even give up my kings to you, if it was not for my wager.
You know I cannot give up my wager."
"Nor I either !" cried Godfrey; "the wager is what I
cannot give up; I must prove that I am right."
"And that I am wrong? Ay, there's the thing! you
want to triumph over me, brother."
"And if I do, this does you a great deal of good, because,
you know,, you do not like to be triumphed over; there-
fore, you take care not to be found in the wrong. Do you
not see that, since I laid this wager, you have taken more
pains than ever you did in your life before not to make
excuses ?"
"True !-It may do me good in that way, but it does not
do me good altogether; because it makes me angry with
You, and would make me, I do believe, dislike you, if it
went on long."
Went on long ? I do not know what that means."
If you went on laying wagers with me, that I should do
wrong. I do not think such wagers are good things. Now,
I will ask mamma. Mamma has not said one word, though
I am sure she has'heard all we have been saying, because I
saw her look up from her work several times at us both. Well,
mamma, what do you think?"
"I think, my dear Rosamond, that you have reasoned


better than you usually do, and that there is much truth and
good sense in what you have said about this wager."
Rosamond looked happy. Godfrey, without seeming
pleased, as he usually did when he heard his sister praised,
Mamma, do you really disapprove of wagers?"
I did not say that I disapprove of all wagers," replied
his mother; "that isanother question, which I will not nowdis-
cuss: but I disapprove of this particular wager, nearly for
the reason which Rosamond has given."
"But, mamma, do you not think that it did her good
to try and cure herself of making excuses, and that my
wager made her take great care? And, you know, if she
were to dislike me because she was in the wrong, at last,
or because she lost her wager, that would still be her
fault, the fault of her temper."
"Let us, for the present, leave out of the question
whose fault it will be, and tell me, my dear Godfrey, do
you wish to make your sister dislike you?"
"Oh no, mamma 1 you know I do not."
"Should you like a person who was glad when you were
sorry, and sorry when you are glad ? Should you like a
person who rejoiced when you committed a fault, who did
not wish you to cure yourself of your faults? Should you
like a person who told you that you could not cure your-
self of your faults, especially when you were trying to
improve yourself as much as you were able ? "
"No. I should not like a person who did all this. I
understand you, mamma. I was wrong," said Godfrey. "It
was my eagerness about that foolish wager that made me ill-
natured to Rosamond. I will give up the wager, though I
really think I should win it; but I will give it up, if mamma
advises us to give it up."


"I really think I should win," said Rosamond; "but I
will give it up, if mamma advises us to give it up."
I do advise you to give up this wager, my dear children,"
said their mother.
"So we will, and so we do," said both Rosamond and
Godfrey, running up to one another and shaking hands.
"And I assure you, brother," said Rosamond, "I will
take as much pains to cure myself of making excuses as if
the wager was going on; and my wager shall be with myself,
that I will make not a single excuse to-morrow, or the next,
or the next day, and that every day I shall be better than I
was the day before. You will be glad of that, Godfrey, shall
you not?"
"Yes, with all my heart," said Godfrey.
And that will be a good sort of wager, will it not, mamma?
It will be a good sort of trial with myself, mamma."
"Yes, my dear child!" answered her mother. "It is
better and wiser to endeavour to triumph over ourselves than
over anybody else. But now let me see that you do what
you say you will do; for many people resolve to cure them-
selves of their faults, but few really have resolution enough
to do even what they say and know to be right."
Rosamond did as she said she would do. She took every
day pains to cure herself of her bad habit of making excuses,
and her brother kindly assisted her, and rejoiced
with her, when, at the end of the day, she could say, with
"I have not made one single excuse to day."
Godfrey, some time afterwards, asked his mother what her
objections were to wagers in general. She answered,
"I am afraid that you cannot yet quite understand my
reasons, but I will tell them to you, and, some time or other,
you will recollect and understand them. I think, that the


love of laying wagers is likely to lead to the love of gaming,
if the Wagers are about matters of chance; or to the love of
victory, instead of the love of truth, if the wagers relate to
matters of opinion."


"A PARTY of pleasure! Oh, mamma! let us go," said
Rosamond. "We shall be so happy, I am sure."
What because it is a party of pleasure, my dear ? said
her mother, smiling.
Do you know, mamma ?" continued Rosamond, without
listening to what her mother said, "do you know, mamma,
that they are to go in the boat on the river; and there are
to be streamers flying and music playing all the time? And
Mrs. Blisset, and Miss Blisset, and the Masters Blisset, will
be here in a few minutes. Will you go, mamma? and may
Godfrey and I go with you, mamma?"
"Yes, my dears."
Scarcely had her mother uttered the word, "Yes," than
Rosamond made a loud exclamation of joy, and then ran
to tell her brother Godfrey, and returned repeating, as she
capered about the room,
"Oh we shall be so happy so happy !"
Moderate your transports, my dear Rosamond," said her
mother. If you expect so much happiness beforehand, I
am afraid you will be disappointed."
"Disappointed, mamma! I thought people were always
happy on parties of pleasure; Miss Blisset told me
"My dear, you had better judge for yourself than trust,
without knowing anything of the matter, to what Miss Blisset
tells you."
"But, mamma, if I know nothing of the matter, how can
I judge; how can I possibly help trusting to what Miss
Blisset tells me?"

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