Frederick was so vexed and disappointed that he could not open his lips,but made a low bow, and returned to his aunt, whom he found just risento breakfast. She was quite crippled with rheumatism, and had so great aweakness in her eyes, that she could not bear the light, and would onlyallow one of the windows to have a little bit of the shutter open.
In this dismal room, without any thing to amuse himself with, was poorFrederick condemned to spend his holidays: his aunt made him read to herwhenever she was awake, and it was only when she dropped asleep for halfan hour in her easy chair, that he could creep softly to the other endof the room, and peep with one eye into the street, through the littleopening between the shutters.
Poor Frederick now sincerely repented having been so rude and ungratefulto Mr. Peterson, and wished a thousand times a day he had been contentedto stay at his house; he would have been very happy to have had it inhis power to return, but dared not propose it to his aunt, and wouldalso have been ashamed to appear before Mr. Peterson.
After many melancholy days, and tedious evenings, spent in lonelysolitude, he at length saw the happy morning which was to end hiscaptivity. "What a foolish boy I have been!" thought he, as he wasputting his things together. "The day of my return to school is myfirst holiday, and the preparations I am making for it the only pleasureI have felt since I left it. In the country, where I might have enjoyedthe liberty of running in the fields in the open air, I was discontentedand restless; and I left it, to shut myself up in a sick room. I am nowgoing back to school, to have the pleasure of hearing how agreeably allmy schoolfellows have been spending their time, whilst I shall havenothing to recount to them, but how many phials were ranged on my aunt'schimney-piece, and how many hackney-coaches I could see with one eyepass through the street."
Frederick was very right; he found his two little friends just arrived,and who, for a whole week, could speak of nothing but the pleasure theyhad enjoyed at Mr. Peterson's. They told him of their having beingseveral times on the river on fishing-parties, of two nice little ponieswhich had been procured for them, that they might ride about in theshady lanes, and round the park, and of the beautiful houses and gardensthey had been taken to see in the neighbourhood.
They had a great many very pretty presents, which they shewed toFrederick, and which they had received from their friends, who had beenpleased with their behaviour, and had desired they might be allowed topay them a visit at the next vacation.
Frederick could never forget how much he had lost by his folly; he knewhe had been wrong, and, as he was not a bad boy, he was not ashamed toacknowledge it, but wrote a very pretty letter to Mr. Peterson, begginghim to forgive the rudeness he had been guilty of, and telling him howmuch he had suffered by it; assuring him that he would never againdesire to quit his house to go to any other, and saying, that he nevershould have done it, if he had not been a foolish restless boy; that hehad been severely punished for his fault, and hoped he would think itenough, and grant him his pardon as soon as possible.
Mr. Peterson readily complied with his request, and invited him, thenext time he left school, to accompany his two little friends to hishouse, where they spent a month in the midst of pleasure and amusement;sometimes riding the ponies to the top of a hill, from whence theycould see the hounds followed by the huntsman, and several gentlemen onhorseback; at other times assisting their good friend to entertain histenants with their wives and children round a Christmas fire in thegreat hall: in short, Frederick was so happy, that he never once thoughtof Astley, the Park, or the play, or had any desire to quit Mr. Petersonin search of other amusements.
THE LITTLE QUARRELLERS.
Margaret and Frances lived with their papa and mamma in a pretty whitehouse on the side of a hill; they had a very large garden which led intoa meadow, at the bottom of which ran a beautiful river.
Every body thought them the happiest children in the world, andcertainly they might have been so, if their dispositions had been moreamiable; for their papa and mamma were very fond of them, and indulgedthem in every thing proper for their age, and their friends werecontinually bringing them presents of toys and dolls, or some prettything or other.
They had each a little garden of their own, full of sweet flowers andshrubs, currants, gooseberries, and strawberries. Margaret had asquirrel, in which she took great delight, for it would jump joyfullyabout its cage whenever she came near it, and would eat nuts and biscuitout of her hand; and Frances had a beautiful canary-bird in a nice giltcage, which awoke her every morning with a song, and told her it wastime to rise. Margaret's nurse had brought her a white hen with eightlittle chickens, and Frances had the prettiest bantams that ever wereseen.
Their mamma sent them to walk with their maid every evening, either overthe hill where the sheep and cows were feeding, or along the side of theclear river, to pick up pebbles, to hear the merry songs of thefishermen, and see the boats pass with the market-people, going to thetown with their fruit and their vegetables. Sometimes their papa tookthem in his pleasure-boat across the river, to eat strawberries andcream at a farm-house; and sometimes they were permitted to accompanytheir mamma when she went to dine with her friends in the neighbourhood.
It is scarcely to be believed, that two children who might have livedso happily, should have found their greatest pleasure in tormentingeach other; and though, before their parents and strangers, theyappeared to be all sweetness and good-humour, that they should have beencontinually contriving how to vex and teaze each other. The moment theywere alone, they did nothing but fight and quarrel, and dispute abouttrifles.
Not contented with this, whenever they were displeased, they did notcare what mischief they did, but tried, by every means in their power,to vex each other, by spoiling and destroying every thing which came intheir way. Margaret was quite delighted when she had been running overall Frances's garden, and treading down every thing which was growing init; and Frances, to be revenged on her sister, never failed to godirectly and pull up all her flowers by the roots, throw stones at herlittle chickens, and tear her doll's clothes to pieces.
One day when they had had a great quarrel about some foolish thing notworth mentioning, Margaret was so extremely angry, that she got hermamma's ink-stand, and threw the ink all over her sister's work, andthen walked out of the room, leaving it on the table, Frances, who wasgone to ask her mamma for some thread, no sooner returned to theparlour, and found her work in so sad a condition, but guessingimmediately how it came so, instead of seeking for her sister, andtelling her in a gentle manner how wrong she had acted, and begging thatall their quarrels might be ended, and that they might live together assisters should do, and endeavour to make each other happy, instead ofspending their time in vexing and teazing each other--instead of doingthis, the malicious girl thought of nothing but how she might berevenged; and watching for a favourable opportunity, she seized on afine damask napkin which had been given to Margaret to hem and mark,threw it down on the hearth, contriving to let one end of it lie overthe fender, and then began to poke the fire as violently as she could,hoping some of the cinders would fall upon it, and burn a few holes init. Her wish was soon accomplished, and even beyond what she desired,for the napkin was in an instant in a blaze, and the house in danger ofbeing burnt to the ground. Terrified almost to death, she began toscream for help, and the whole family were immediately assembled in theparlour; Margaret among the rest, with the bottom of her frock coveredwith ink, though she had not perceived it, and which too plainly shewedwho had done the first mischievous exploit.
They were now both strictly examined, and their tricks soon discovered:their papa and mamma watched them very narrowly, and found that theywere quite different when alone, to what they appeared when in theirpresence; and they no longer treated them with the kindness andindulgence they had hitherto done. Their gardens were taken from them,the squirrel and the canary-bird given away, and the white hen, withher little brood of chickens, sent back to the nurse: they were deprivedof all their amusements,
and they had lost the good opinion of theirparents and friends, for the servants had told their story to every bodythey met with, and they were never mentioned without being called theSly Girls, or the Little Quarrellers.
THE VAIN GIRL.
Caroline was trifling away her time in the garden with a littlefavourite spaniel, her constant companion, when she was sent for to hermusic-master; and the servant had called her no less than threedifferent times before she thought proper to go into the house.
When the lesson was finished, and the master gone, she turned to hermamma, and asked her, in a fretful and impatient tone of voice, howmuch longer she was to be plagued with masters--said she had had them avery long time, and that she really thought she now knew quite enough ofevery thing.
"That you have had them a very long while," answered her mamma, "Iperfectly agree with you; but that you have profited so much by theirinstruction, as you seem to imagine, I am not so certain. I must,however, acquaint you, my dear Caroline, that you will not be _plagued_with them much longer, for your papa says he has expended such largesums upon your education, that he is quite vexed and angry with himselffor having done so, because he finds it impossible to be at an equalexpense for your two little sisters; I would therefore advise you,whilst he is so good as to allow you to continue your lessons, to makethe most of your time, that it may not be said you have been learning solong to no purpose."
Caroline appeared quite astonished at her mamma's manner of speaking,assured her she knew every thing perfectly, and said, that if her papawished to save the expense of masters for her sisters, _she_ wouldundertake to make them quite as accomplished as she herself was.
Some time after this conversation, she accompanied her mamma on a visitto a particular friend who resided in the country; and as there wereseveral gentlemen and ladies at the same time in the house, Caroline wasextremely happy in the opportunity she thought it would give her ofsurprising so large a party by her drawing, music, &c; and she was notvery long before she gave them so many samples of her vanity andself-conceit, as rendered her quite ridiculous and disgusting.
She was never in the least ashamed to contradict those who were olderand better instructed than herself, and would sit down to the piano withthe utmost unconcern, and attempt to play a sonata which she had neverseen before, though at the same time she could not get through a littlesimple song, which she had been three months learning, withoutblundering half a dozen times.
There lived, at about the distance of a mile from Mrs. Melvin's house, awidow lady, with her daughter, a charming little girl of thirteen yearsof age, on whose education (so very limited was her fortune) she hadnever had it in her power to be at the smallest expense: indeed, herincome was so narrow, that, without the strictest economy in everyrespect, she could not have made it suffice to procure them thenecessaries of life; and was obliged to content herself with the littleinstruction she could give to her child, and with encouraging her asmuch as possible to exert herself, and endeavour to supply, by attentionand perseverance, the want of a more able instructor, and to surmountthe obstacles she would have to meet with.
When Caroline heard this talked of, she concluded immediately that Lauramust be a poor little ignorant thing, whom she should astonish by adisplay of her accomplishments, and enjoyed in idea the wonder shewould shew, when she beheld her beautiful drawings, heard her touch thekeys of the piano, and speak French and Italian as well as her ownlanguage; which she wished to persuade herself was the case, though sheknew no more of either than she did of all the other things of which shewas so vain and conceited.
She told Mrs. Melvin that she really pitied extremely the situation ofthe poor unfortunate Laura, and wished, whilst she was so near, shecould have an opportunity of seeing her frequently, as she might giveher some instruction which would be of service to her. Mrs. Melvin wasextremely disgusted with the vanity of her friend's daughter, andwishing to give her a severe mortification, which she thought would beof more use to her than any lesson she had ever received, told her sheshould pay a visit the next morning.
The weather was extremely fine, and the whole company set forwardimmediately after breakfast, and were soon in sight of a very neat butsmall house, which they were informed belonged to the mother of Laura. Alittle white gate opened into a garden in the front of it, which was soneat, and laid out with so much taste, that they all stopped to admireit, for the flowers and shrubs were tied up with the utmost nicety, andnot a weed was to be seen in any part of it.
"This is Laura's care," said Mrs. Melvin; "her mamma cannot afford topay a gardener, but hires a labourer now and then to turn up theground, and, with the help of their maid, she keeps this little flowergarden in the order in which you see it; for by having inquired of thosewho understand it (instead of fancying herself perfect in all things),she has gained so much information, that she has become a completeflorist."
They were shewn into a very neat parlour, which was ornamented with anumber of drawings. "Here," says Mrs. Melvin, "you may again see thefruits of Laura's industry and perseverance; she has had no instruction,except the little her mamma could give her, but she was determined tosucceed, and has done so, as you may perceive; for these drawings areexecuted with as much taste and judgment as could possibly be expectedof so young a person, even if she had had the advantage of having amaster to instruct her. The fringe on the window curtains is entirely ofher making, and the pretty border and landscape on that fire-screen isof her cutting."
Caroline began to fear she should not shine quite so much as she hadexpected to do, and was extremely mortified when Laura came into theroom, and was desired to sit down to the piano, at hearing her play andsing two or three pretty little songs, so well and so sweetly, thatevery one present was delighted with her.
She scarcely ever dared, after this visit, to boast of her knowledge;and if she did, Mrs. Melvin, who was her real friend, and wished to cureher of her vanity, never failed to remind her of the little she knew,notwithstanding all the money which had been expended upon hereducation, in comparison to Laura, who had never cost her mamma a singleshilling.
THE YOUNG GARDENERS.
Charles, William, and Henry, had a large piece of ground given to themto make a garden of. Their papa gave them leave to apply to the gardenerfor instruction as often as they pleased, but not to expect anyassistance from him or any other person: they were to put it in order,and keep it so by their own labour.
"I know," said Charles to William, "that we shall never agree withHenry; he is such an odd boy, that I really believe when once the gardenis put in order, he will be contented to walk about and look at it,without ever touching any thing, for he is always quarrelling with usbecause we have no patience, as he calls it."--"Yes," replied William,"it is very true. Do you remember how angry he was when his bantam henwas hatching her chickens, and we helped to pull them out of the eggs!Who would have thought we should have killed any of them! I am sure Idid not; but they were so long, I could not bear to sit there all daywaiting for them. I think, Charles, we had better give him his share ofthe ground, and let him do as he will with it, and you and I will make apretty garden of the rest, and manage it as we think proper."
This being settled, and the ground fairly divided, they all three wentto work with the utmost alacrity. They rose with the lark in themorning, turning up the earth, and clearing it of stones and rubbish;but Henry by himself had got his garden laid out in beds and borders,ready for planting, before Charles and William together had half donetheirs: they could not determine how to do it; the borders were toonarrow, and must be made broader; this bed must be longer, and thatshorter; so that what they did in the morning, they undid in theevening, and their piece of ground lay in confusion and disorder, longafter Henry had planted his borders with strawberries, and his bedswere sown with annuals, and filled with pretty flowers and bulbousroots.
Charles and William had at length got their garden laid out in tolerableorder, and, in other hands, it might soon have been in a veryflo
urishing state; for their papa had given them leave to remove severalpretty shrubs from his into their garden, and consequently it alreadywore a pleasant appearance. Two days had, however, scarcely elapsed,before these whimsical boys were tired of the manner in which theirtree, &c. were planted, and longed to remove them.
"This little cherry-tree," said William, "will surely look better at thecorner of the wall."
"That it will," answered Charles, "and will grow better there, I daresay; and the rose-trees, do observe how ill they appear at the end ofthat border--who would ever have thought of planting rose-trees in sucha place?"
"Nobody," said Charles, "and we had better change them directly, or itwill be supposed we know nothing of gardening, and we shall be laughedat for pretending to it."
No sooner said than done; the plants and flowers were removed, and, inabout a week from that day, were all put back into their former places.
When their seeds were just beginning to appear above the ground, theyfancied that bed would do better for something else, and in less thanfive minutes the spade was brought, the bed turned up, and all thelittle flowers, which were springing up so strong and promising, weredestroyed without pity.
What a different appearance did the two gardens make in the month ofJune! Charles and William saw, with sorrow and regret, that theirs wasnothing more than a piece of waste ground; they had removed their treesand shrubs so often, that they had all perished; and not having patienceto let their seeds come up and grow into blossom, their beds had nothingin them.