Chapter II: Part 2

The children had laughed very much at this story, because their Aunt had told it to them in a way that made it very amusing. They thanked her, and said they hoped she would tell it to them again, the next Saturday. She promised she would, and told them to run off, as she wanted to finish her letter. So the little girls went off, and spent the rest of the day in various ways, taking care not to be troublesome or noisy; and when they went home, they told their Mother, as well as they could, the funny story of the three bears.

ABOUT MINDING QUICKLY.

Emma was one day sitting by the fire, on a little bench. She was trying to cut a mouse out of a piece of paper. She had a pair of scissors, with round ends. Her Mother had given her these scissors for her own, because they were safer for her to use than scissors with pointed ends.

Presently her Mother said, "Come here to me, Emma."

"Wait a minute, Mother," said Emma.

"Do you know," said her Mother, "that it was naughty for you to say that?"

"Why, you can wait a _little_ minute," said Emma; "I am very busy. Don't you see that I am making a mouse?"

"Emma," replied her Mother, "do you know that I ought to punish you, because you do not mind?"

"I am coming right away," cried Emma, dropping her scissors and her paper mouse, and running up to her Mother.

Her Mother took her up on her lap, and said, "My little girl, this will _never_ do. You must learn to come at once when you are called; you _must_ obey quickly. If you continue in this very naughty habit of not minding until you are told to do a thing two or three times, you will grow up a very disagreeable girl, and nobody will love you."

Emma looked up mournfully into her Mother's face, and said, "Mother, I will try to do better."

She was a good-tempered child, and was seldom cross or sullen; but she had this one bad habit, and it was a very bad habit indeed--she waited to be told twice, and sometimes oftener, and many times she made her kind Mother very unhappy.

For a few days after this Emma remembered what her Mother had said to her, and always came the first time she was called. She came pleasantly, for it is very important to mind pleasantly, and did every thing she was told to do right away, and her Mother loved her dearly, and hoped she was quite cured of her naughty ways.

But I am very sorry to have to say that a time came when Emma entirely forgot her promise. You shall hear how it happened.

One morning Emma's Mother said to her, "Emma, it is time for you to get up, and put on your stockings and shoes."

Emma did not move. She lay with her eyes wide open, watching a fly on the wall, that was scrubbing his thin wings with his hind legs.

"Did you hear me, Emma? Put on your stockings and shoes."

Emma got up very slowly. She put one foot out of bed, and then looked again at the fly. This time he was scrubbing his face with his fore legs. So she sat there, and said to herself, "I wonder how that funny little fly can stay upon the wall. I can't walk up the wall as the fly can. What a little round black head he has got."

"Emma!" said her Mother, and this time she spoke in a very severe tone.

Emma started, and put her other foot out of bed, and took up one of her stockings.

Her Mother got out of her bed, which was close to Emma's crib, and began to dress herself. When she was dressed, she looked round, and saw Emma, with one stocking half on, and the other rolled up in a little ball, which she was throwing up in the air.

Her Mother was angry with her. She went up to her, and took her stocking away from her, and told her to get into bed again, for if she would not dress herself when her Mother bid her, she should be punished by being made to lie in bed. She shut up the window shutters, and took all the books out of the room, and telling Emma not to get up until she gave her leave, she went down stairs to breakfast.

Now children don't like to be put to bed in the daytime; at least I have never heard of anyone that did; and Emma was soon tired of lying in bed, in a dark room, wide awake, with nothing to do, and no pleasant thoughts, for she could think of nothing but her naughty behavior. So this was a very severe punishment, and she began to cry, and wish she had minded quickly, and then she would have been down stairs, where the sun was shining brightly into the windows. She would have been sitting in her chair, with her dear little kitten in her lap, and a nice bowl of bread and milk for her breakfast. She always saved a little milk in the bottom of the bowl for Daisy her kitten, and after she had done, she would give the rest to Daisy. So you see that Emma lost a great deal by not minding quickly and what was worse than all, she had displeased her Mother and made her unhappy.

Oh, how weary she got. How she longed to get up. She did not dare to disobey her Mother, and she lay in her crib a long, long time, and thought she never could be so naughty again.

At last her Mother came in the room. She opened the shutters, and said, "Emma, you may get up and put on your stockings and shoes."

Emma jumped up quickly, and had them on in two minutes, and then she took off her night-gown and put on her day clothes, which hung over the back of the chair by her crib, and went to her Mother to have them fastened, for she could not fasten them herself. Her Mother fastened her clothes, and then taking her little girl's hand, she said, "My dear little Emma, you have made me feel very unhappy this morning. I do not like to punish you, but it is my duty to try to cure you of all your naughty ways, and it is your duty to try to overcome them. If you do not, some day you may meet with some terrible misfortune, like that which happened to a boy I used to know when I was young. I will tell it to you. This boy, like you, grieved his parents often, by not minding quickly; and he suffered for it in a way that he will never forget, as long as he lives. He was one day standing on the steps of the house where he lived, and I was standing at the window of the house opposite, where I lived. I was watching some men that were on the top of this boy's house, fixing the roof. The roof was covered with loose pieces of slate, and nails, and rubbish.

"Presently one of the men on the roof cried out, 'Go in, little boy; go in.' But the boy was looking at a kite that some other boys had in the street, and he did not choose to go in. The man thought that he had minded what he told him, and without looking again, he tumbled down a great heap of slates and rubbish. The house was quite high, and a large and sharp piece of slate came down very swiftly, and struck the boy on the side of his head, and cut off nearly the whole of his ear. In a moment the blood poured down his neck and over his clothes, and I thought he would bleed to death. Oh Emma! what a dreadful punishment for not minding quickly!

"For a long time he went about with his head bound up, and when he got well again the side of his face looked very bad indeed, for where his ear had been there was a dreadful scar that never went away. Now he is a man, and he often tells children how he got this dreadful scar, and all because he did not mind quickly."

The tears had rolled down Emma's face, while her Mother was telling her this story. When she had finished it, Emma put her arms around her mother's neck, and told her that indeed she would try to obey at once, and be a good little girl, so that her dear Mother would never be unhappy about her again.

Her Mother kissed her, and took her down stairs, and gave her some breakfast, and all this day, and ever after, she did try very hard to be good. Whenever she felt herself going about any thing slowly, the thought of the poor boy who had lost his ear would come into her mind, and she would jump up at once, when her Mother called her, and do whatever she wanted her to do, pleasantly and quickly.

THE TWINS.

"Well, Susan," said her Father one day, as she came home from school, "I am glad to see you; I wish to inform you that two young gentlemen arrived here to-day."

"What are their names, Father?" asked Susan.

"I do not know," answered her Father--"I do not believe they have got any names. They are very small--so small, that at this moment they are both asleep in the great chair."

"Both asleep in the great chair?" cried Susan, astonished at what her Father had said. "I do believe you have been buying two little monkeys."

"No, I have not," said her Father, laughing.

"Now come with me, and I will show you these strangers, and then see if you will say they are monkeys."

Susan went with her Father. He took her hand, and led her into her Mother's room. The room was dark, and her Mother was lying in the bed. Susan was afraid that she was sick. She went to her and said--

"Dear Mother, are you sick? You look very pale."

Her Mother kissed her, and said, "I am very weak, my dear child; but do you not want to see your little brothers?"

"Brothers?--where?" cried Susan. "Have I a brother?"

"Two of them," said her Father. "Come here, Susan, here they both are, fast asleep."

Susan went up to the great easy chair, and in the seat of it she saw, all tucked up warm, two little round fat faces lying close together. Their noses nearly touched each other, and they looked funny enough.

"Well, Susan," said her Father, "do you like the monkeys?"

"Oh Father!" answered the little girl, clasping her hands, "I am so glad--I am so happy! They are exactly alike--how I shall love them, the dear little toads."

"Toads," said her Father, laughing; "they don't look a bit like toads."

"Well, I said that because I loved them so," replied Susan, "just as you sometimes call me your little mouse."

For two weeks, the little twins slept together in the great chair, and there was no end to Susan's wonder and delight. Her Mother had to tie a bit of red silk around the wrist of one of them, to tell them apart. They grew very fast, and were the dearest little fellows in the world, they had such bright merry black eyes, and were always ready to have a frolic with Susan. As they grew up, they were so good, and so pretty, that every body loved them, and a great many people came to see them. I forgot to tell you that one was named George and the other James.

One day, when the twins were three years old, they were left alone in the breakfast room. The things on the breakfast table had been cleared away, except a bowl nearly full of sugar, which was standing on the table.

Presently the little fellows spied the bowl of sugar. "George," said James, "if you will help me with this chair, I will give you some sugar."

So both the boys took hold of the heavy chair, and dragged it to the table. Then James helped George to climb upon it, and from that he scrambled up on the table. He walked across, to where the sugar was, and sat down on the table, and took the sugar bowl in his lap.

"Now you get the bench," said George.

So James got the bench, and put it close to the side of the table where George was, and stood upon it.

You should have seen how their merry black eyes sparkled, at the fine feast they were going to have. They did not think that they were doing wrong, for their Mother had often given them a little sugar.

So George took the spoon that was in the sugar, and helped James to a spoonful, and then took one himself. He was very particular to give James exactly as many spoonfuls as he took himself.

They were having such a delightful time, that, for some moments, they did not speak a single word. George began first--

"This is nice," said George.

"I like sugar," said James.

"It is so sweet," said George.

"And so good," said James.

"We will eat it all up," said George.

"We won't leave a bit," said James.

"It is most all gone," said George.

"There is hardly any left," said James.

All this time they were talking, George had been stuffing his brother and himself with the sugar.

Just then their Mother opened the door. She had opened it softly, and the little boys had not heard her. When she saw them so busy--with their round faces stuck all over with crumbs of sugar, and George sitting on the table, dealing it out so fairly--she could not keep from laughing.

The twins heard her laugh, so they laughed too; and George cried out--"Mother, this sugar is nice--I like it."

"And so do I," said James.

Their Mother lifted George from the table, and told them they must not do so again, for so much sugar would make them sick. She washed their faces, and sent them to play in the garden. There was a fine large garden at the back of the house, where they could play without danger.

Three years after this, the twins were sent to school, where they soon became great favorites, because they were amiable, and good, and always willing to do as they were told. They looked so exactly alike, and were dressed so exactly alike, that often very funny mistakes were made. I will tell you something that happened, that was not funny, but it will show you how hard it was to tell which was George, and which was James.

One day, the teacher gave the twins a spelling lesson, and told them that they must know it perfectly that morning.

Now George, for the first time, was naughty, and instead of learning the lesson, he was making elephants and giraffes on his slate; but James studied his lesson, and soon knew it. Presently the teacher said, "James, do you know your lesson?"

"Yes, sir," said James. He went up to the desk and said it very well.

"You know it perfectly," said his teacher; "you are a good boy. Now go to your seat."

In a few moments he said, "George, come and say your lesson."

But George did not know a word of it; and James whispered to him, "I don't want you to be punished, brother; I will go for you and say it again."

So James went and repeated his lesson. The teacher thought of course it was George; he said, "Very well indeed, George; you know it just as well as James: you are _both_ good boys."

When George heard this praise, which he did not deserve, he was troubled. He had been taught never to deceive. He did not think at first how wrong he had been; _now_, he saw plainly, that it was very wrong; that he and his brother had been _acting_ a lie.

He whispered to James, "Brother, I can't bear to cheat, so I will go right away and tell the teacher."

So he went directly up to the desk, and said, "Sir, I have not yet said my lesson."

"Why, yes you have," replied the teacher, "I have just heard you say it."

"No, sir, if you please," said George, "I do not know it at all. James said it twice, to save me from being punished."

"Well, George," replied his teacher, "I am very glad you have told me this. I never should have found it out. But your conscience told you that you were doing wrong; and I am thankful you have listened to its warnings, and made up your mind at once, to be an honest boy. I will not punish you, or James, for I am sure neither of you will do so again."

The little boys promised him they never would--and they never did. They grew up honest and good.

Some other day, I will tell you more about them.

THE LITTLE BOY THAT WAS AFRAID OF THE WATER.

Once on a time, there were two little boys. William was five years old, and Johnny was not quite three. The weather was very warm, and these little boys got very weak, and looked so pale and sick, that the doctor said their parents had better take them to Newport, and let them bathe in the surf. So their Mother packed up their clothes, and some books, for she did not wish them to be idle; and, one pleasant afternoon, they all went on board of the steamboat that was going to Newport.

The little boys were very much amused at all they saw. There were a good many other boys in the boat, and William and Johnny looked very hard at them, and wished they knew what their names were, and whether they had a Noah's Ark and Velocipede like theirs.

After they had had their supper, their Mamma put them to bed in a berth. I suppose you all know what a berth is. It is a narrow bed, fastened to the side of the cabin. Sometimes there are three, one above the other; and sometimes two. These little boys got into one of the under ones, so that, if they rolled out, they would not be as likely to hurt themselves. They thought it was very funny to be squeezed up in such a little bed. William counted twenty babies in the cabin. Some of these babies cried a great deal; yet, for all that, the boys were fast asleep in a very few minutes, and slept very soundly all night.

The next morning, their Mamma came to their berth and said, "Come, William--come, Johnny, it is time to get up--for we are at Newport, and must go on shore as quickly as we can."

"Are you going to put me into the water now?" said Johnny, beginning to look very much frightened, for Johnny was afraid of the water.

"Oh, Johnny, don't be so foolish," cried William: "why, I should like to go in head over heels. Mamma, don't they duck us?"

"I believe they do," replied his Mother.

William now begged his Mother to let him go out of the cabin, as he was all dressed. She said he might stand just outside of the door, and, if he saw his Father, he might go to him, but he must never run about the boat alone.

In a few minutes they all went on shore, and got into a carriage, and were driven up to the Hotel.

After breakfast, William and Johnny walked down to the smooth and beautiful beach with their parents, where a great many people, some of them children, were bathing. They seemed to like it very much; and it really did look very inviting, for the sun made the water sparkle like diamonds, and the waves seemed dancing and leaping, and looked as if they longed to give every body a good splashing.

William was delighted. He could hardly wait for his Father to undress and put on his bathing clothes, he was in such a great hurry to be ducked; and when his Father took him and plunged him under the water, although he gasped for breath, he laughed, and kicked, and splashed the water at his Father, and cried, "Duck me again, duck me again, Papa," and he looked so pleased, that some other children, with their parents, came to where he was, and they all had a grand frolic together.

Little Johnny laughed too, as he stood on the dry ground; but, when his Father said, "Come, Johnny, now it is your turn," he made a terrible face, and cried "Dear Papa, dear Mamma, please let me go home. I shall never see you again if you put me in that great big water." But his Mamma said he must go in, because it would do him a great deal of good, and she undressed him, and put him into his Father's arms.

Johnny now began to scream as loud as he could, and cried out, "Mamma, Mamma, I want to go back to you." But his Father did not mind him a bit, and holding him by his arms, he plunged him under the water.

The poor little fellow came up gasping and panting, and sobbed out, "Oh! my dear Mamma, come and kiss me 'fore I die."

Every body laughed--for there was no danger--except his kind Mother. A tear stared to her eye, for she knew her dear little son really thought he was dying, and would never see her again. But in a little while he felt better, and, after his Mother had taken him, and had rubbed him all over and dressed him, and he had run up and down the beach with William and the other children, he felt such a nice warm glow all over him, that he forgot all about his fright.

Pretty soon he said, "Mamma, I am so hungry--I am as hungry as a little bear."

"That is because you have been in the water," replied his Mother.

"Are the fishes always hungry?--does the water make them hungry too?" said Johnny.

"I believe they are always ready to eat," replied his Mother; "you know that they are caught by bait. This bait is a bit of a clam or a little worm, put upon a sharp hook. The fish snap at the bait, and the hook catches them in the mouth. Come, little hungry fish," added his Mother, "and I will give you something to eat; but I will not put it on a hook to hurt you."

The next day the little boys went into the water again, and, although Johnny made up a doleful face, he did not think he should die this time; and, when he saw the other children laughing and splashing each other, and crying "Duck me again--what fun we are having," he tried to like it too, and after a little while did begin to like it; for, when children _try_ to overcome their foolish fears, they will almost always succeed, and be rewarded as Johnny was, by the pleasure they enjoy, and the happiness they give to their parents.

After a few days, Johnny got to be so brave, that he was the first to run down to the beach and jump into his Father's arms, and he cried louder than any, "Duck me again," and splashed every body that came near him; and both William and Johnny got so strong, and ate so heartily, and had such great red cheeks, that when they went home to New-York, a few weeks after, their friends hardly knew them, and Johnny never again had any foolish fears about going into the water.

THE MAY QUEEN.

"Mother," said Frederick Stanley, "is it not wrong to treat servants unkindly?"

"What makes you ask that question?" answered his Mother. "What can have put that into your head?"

"Nothing--I don't know," replied he, looking at his sister Kate, who was sitting near him, working a pair of slippers.

Mrs. Stanley saw that there was something on their mind, so she laid down her book, and tried to draw it out. She began:

"What is the reason that your little Scottish friend Jessie has not been here lately? I thought that you, Kate, could not take a walk, with any pleasure, without her, and Fred has become quite a beau, since her arrival. I am afraid you have done or said something to offend her."

"Fred," said Kate,--who was two years younger than her brother, and much smaller, and had a great respect for him,--"Fred, do you tell Mother."

Fred gave his pantaloons a little pull, shook the hair away from his face, half laughed, and did not speak a word; but Kate, like a real little woman, could not keep the secret a moment longer. "We have had a quarrel, Mother; that's all!"

"'A quarrel! that's all!'" said her Mother. "That's a great deal too much; but what _did_ you find to quarrel about?"

"Why, Mother," answered Fred, getting over his bashfulness, now that the secret was out, "it was all about treating those who were beneath us with kindness."

"Well done!" exclaimed his Mother. "Let us hear what you had to say upon the subject."

"I said it was a shame to abuse those who were poorer than we were; that in God's eyes all were equal. I could not bear to hear Jessie say that she had her own servant at home, and when this servant did any thing to displease her she would pinch and slap her. I told her she was a downright wicked girl."

"Oh, shocking! shocking!" said Mrs. Stanley. "And my sweet little Kate, did you too stand up for kindness to servants?"

"I did all I could, dear Mother," she replied, "but Fred did the most."

"Well, tell me, what else did you say."

"I told her," said Fred, hesitating a little, "that here in our own country, we said 'if you please' and 'thank you,' when a servant did any thing for us, and that she had better go back to Scotland, and not stay another day in a place where she was deprived of the pleasure of pinching people."

"Oh, Frederick! Frederick! how could a boy of your politeness be so rude to a young lady? That was a great mistake."

Frederick looked mortified, and Kate hung her head. "But what happened after that?" asked Mrs. Stanley.

"Oh, she was so angry that she went away, and we have not seen her since. I am very sorry; but it can't be helped now."

"No," said Kate, "we can't help it now."

"But, my dear children," said their Mother, "I think you owe Jessie an apology."

"I have no objection," said Fred, after reflecting a moment, "if you think I have been so very impolite; but it will do no good."

"Well," said Mrs. Stanley, "it must be done. Perhaps I can assist you in making up the quarrel. Next Thursday, you know, is the first of May. You shall have a little party, and Jessie shall be Queen of May. That will be certain to please her."

"Jessie! Queen!" exclaimed Kate. "You can't, Mother, you can't. Jessie will not come; I am sure she will not come. I do not believe she will ever speak to us again."

"I tell you she will come," said her Mother; "and she will be Queen. I will manage it for you."

"Ah, well, Mother," said Fred, looking at his sister, "you don't know Jessie as well as we do. She won't forgive us so easily."

Company now came in, and the children went to their studies. In the afternoon Mrs. Stanley sent a polite invitation to Jessie and her parents to pass the next Thursday evening at her house, and as they were sitting at the tea-table, the answer was returned.

"There," said Mrs. Stanley, "one point is gained; they will all come."

"They may come," said Frederick, "but she won't be civil to us, I know."

The next day was spent in preparing the crown, throne, and flowers, &c., and Frederick set himself to work to learn by heart some lines his Mother had written for the occasion.

Thursday evening arrived, and the children, though afraid of Jessie's cold looks, were in good spirits. Kate came into the parlor, and found Fred before a large glass, making his speech, and practising the most graceful bows and gestures.

"Goodness!" she exclaimed, "how light and beautiful the room looks! Oh, Fred, I hope we shall have a pleasant time."

The arrival of the company now interrupted them, and when nearly all had come, Mrs. Stanley told her plan with regard to Jessie; and this important matter was just settled, when that young lady and her parents entered.

Jessie, not knowing the honor awaiting her, was very stiff and grave in her salutations. Her large dark eyes were turned away from Fred and Kate, yet an expression about her pretty mouth seemed to say,

"I am not so very angry as you think."

"She _looks_ like a Queen, don't she?" whispered Fred to his sister.

"She is stiff enough, at any rate," said Kate.

"I wonder who she will choose for her King?" said Fred.

"I am sure I don't know," answered Kate, looking round. "I suppose the biggest boy."

"Dear me!" said Fred, "I forget that I must go out until it is time for the Address," and he left the room, to await his Mother's signal.

Refreshments were now handed round the room, and many a sly glance was cast upon the unconscious Jessie, who was still looking very grave, and almost cross, till, at a hint from his Mother, Fred made his appearance, and with blushing face, but firm voice, pronounced the following lines:

"O! valiant knights, and ladies fair!
I'm very glad to see you here;
Your happy looks and eyes so bright,
Have quite inspired me to-night.
Though I'm unused to courtly ways,
My choice from you will meet with praise.
Our Western land, so brave and free,
Where waves the flag of liberty,
Can yet, while all our hearts approve,
The British stranger fondly love.
(No looks of grave distrust are seen,)
Fair Jessie! I proclaim you Queen!
And kneeling lowly at your feet,
To be your knight I do entreat.
Now deign to say what happy one
Amongst us all shall share your throne."

Fred rose from his knees, and awaited Jessie's reply.

Her anger was all gone, but she was so surprised that she looked down and did not say a word.

"Well," thought Fred, "I knew she would act so. I suppose every body is laughing at me."

"Jessie," said her Mother, "speak quickly." "Whom will you have for King?"

Jessie blushed, and smiled, and whispered in a soft little voice, "Frederick."

Astonished and delighted by this kindness, Fred again kneeled down, then rising he took her little white hand, and led her in triumph, followed by all the company, to the next room, where a splendid throne had been erected. A beautiful crown of flowers was placed on Jessie's head, and gave new beauty to her soft and curling brown hair. Frederick also had a handsome crown. Sceptres were placed in their hands, and then they arranged their court. Kate was made a Duchess, at which she grew quite dignified; there were plenty of Earls and Countesses, and the sweet little maids of honor and the pages stood behind the throne.

They then formed a procession, to return to the parlor, and in an instant a march burst forth from a band of music which had been concealed for the purpose.

At this unexpected event, his Majesty jumped so high that his crown tumbled off, and the Queen was in such a delightful agitation that she could not confine her steps to a walk, and so the King, and the Queen, and the Duchess, and all the maids of honor and pages, ran helter-skelter, as fast as they could, and took places for dancing.

Never were merrier hearts or brighter eyes than now leaped and shone in that little party. The Queen was the gayest of all, and the King was nearly out of his wits with joy, to find himself and Jessie once more friends. Little Kate got so tired of being a Duchess that she skipped about like a little fairy, and all the lords and ladies, and maids of honor and pages, were so merry and so full of innocent fun, that they looked a great deal more like little republicans. And so the happy evening concluded, to the satisfaction of all.

The next morning, Mrs. Stanley asked her children if they had had a pleasant party.

"Oh, yes!" they both answered; "it was perfectly delightful; and Jessie was as pleasant as she could be, and seemed to have forgotten all about the quarrel."

"She behaved very well indeed," said Mrs. Stanley, "and I think after this you will not allow any thing to disturb your friendship. Jessie is a good, warm-hearted girl, but she has been allowed to indulge sometimes in fits of ill-temper, and has not been taught to be good to those who wait upon her. If you were to talk to her with kindness and forbearance, you would convince her that this was wrong. Her own heart would soon tell her so. You must not expect her to do better all at once; but no doubt, with a little patience on your part, and a little trying on hers, she will find her happiness much increased by being kind to those beneath her, and in time she will feel that in this country all are equals, though for one night she _was_ a May Queen."

THE APPLE DUMPLING.

A long time ago, there was a little old woman that lived away off in the woods. She lived all by herself, in a little cottage with only two rooms in it, and she made her living by knitting blue woollen stockings, and selling them.

One morning the old woman brushed up the hearth all clean, and put every thing in order; then she went to the pantry and took out a great black pot, and filled it full of water, and hung it over the fire, and then she sat down in her arm-chair by the fire. She took her spectacles out of her pocket and put them on her nose, and began to knit on a great blue woollen stocking.

Pretty soon she said to herself, "I wonder what I shall have for dinner? I believe I will make an apple dumpling." So she put her knitting down, and took her spectacles off of her nose, and put them in her pocket, and getting out of her arm-chair, she went to the cupboard and got three nice rosy-cheeked apples. Then she went to the knife-box and got a knife, and then she took a yellow dish from the dresser, and sat down in her arm-chair, and began to pare the apples.

After she had pared the apples, she cut each one into four quarters. Then she got up again, and set the dish of apples on the table, and went to the cupboard, and got some flour and a lump of butter. Then she took a pitcher, and went out of doors to a little spring of water close by, and filled the pitcher with clear, cold water. So she mixed up the flour and butter, and made them into a nice paste with the water; and then she went behind the door and took down a rolling-pin that was hung up by a string, and rolled out the paste, and put the apples inside, and covered the apples all up with the paste. "That looks nice," said the old woman. So she tied up the dumpling in a nice clean cloth, and put it into the great black pot that was over the fire.

After she had brushed up the hearth again, and put all the things she had used away, she sat down in her arm-chair by the fire, and took her spectacles out of her pocket and put them on her nose, and began to knit on the big blue woollen stocking.

She knit eight times round the stocking, and then she said to herself, "I wonder if the dumpling is done?" So she laid down her knitting, and took a steel fork from the mantelpiece, and lifted the lid of the pot and looked in.

As she was looking in, her spectacles tumbled off of her nose, and fell into the pot.

"Oh dear! Oh dear!--that's bad, that's bad," said the old woman.

She got the tongs, and fished up her spectacles, and wiped them with the corner of her apron, and put them on her nose again, and then she stuck the fork into the apple dumpling.

The apples were hard. "No, no, no," she said, "it is not done yet."

So she put on the lid of the pot, and laid the fork on the mantelpiece, and sat down in her arm-chair, and began to knit again on the big blue woollen stocking.

She knit six times round the stocking, and then she said to herself--"I wonder if the dumpling is done?"

So she put her knitting down, and took the fork from the mantelpiece, and lifted the lid of the pot, and looked in.

As she was looking in, her spectacles tumbled off of her nose, and fell into the pot.

"Oh dear! Oh dear!--that's bad, that's bad," said the old woman.

She got the tongs and fished up her spectacles, and wiped them with the corner of her apron, and put them on her nose again, and took the fork and stuck it into the dumpling. The apples were just beginning to get soft.

"No, no, no; it is not quite done yet," said the old woman.

So she put on the lid of the pot, and laid the fork on the mantelpiece, and sat down in her arm-chair, and began to knit again on the big blue woollen stocking.

She knit twice round the stocking, and then she said to herself--"I wonder if the dumpling is done?"

So she laid down her knitting, and took the fork from the mantelpiece, and lifted the lid of the pot, and looked in.

As she was looking in, her spectacles tumbled off of her nose, and fell into the pot.

"Oh dear! Oh dear!--that's bad, that's bad," said the old woman.

She got the tongs and fished up her spectacles, and wiped them with the corner of her apron, and put them on her nose again, and took the fork and stuck it into the dumpling.

The apples were quite soft. "Yes, yes, yes; the dumpling is done," said the old woman.

So she took the dumpling out of the pot, and untied the cloth, and turned it into a yellow dish, and set it upon the table.

Then she went to the cupboard and got a plate, and then to the knife-box and got a knife; then she took the fork from the mantelpiece, and drew her arm-chair close up to the table, and sat down in it, and cut off a piece of the dumpling, and put it on her plate.

It was very hot, and it smoked a great deal, so the old woman began to blow it. She blew very hard. As she was blowing, her spectacles tumbled off of her nose, and fell into the dumpling.

"Oh dear! Oh dear!--that's bad, that's bad," said the old woman.

She took her spectacles out of her plate, and wiped them with the corner of her apron, and said to herself--"I must get a new nose. My nose is so little, that my spectacles will not stick on my nose."

So she put her spectacles into her pocket, and began to eat the dumpling.

It was quite cool now. So the old woman ate it all up, and said it was very good indeed.

THE DENTIST.

One day little Emily's Grandma said to her--"My dear child, you must go with me to-day to the dentist's, and have some of those teeth pulled out. They are growing so fast and so crooked, that you have not room enough in your mouth for them all."

"Dear Grandma," said the little girl, "will it hurt me _very_ much?"

"Yes, my dear," replied her Grandma, "it will hurt you a great deal, but you must try to bear the pain; it will not be long."

Poor little Emily sighed, and the tears stood in her eyes. She knew that her Grandmother always told her the exact truth. She knew that she would suffer a great deal of pain, because her Grandma had told her so.

It is always the best way to tell a little boy or girl the exact truth. If Emily's Grandma had said that it would not hurt her to have her teeth pulled out, it would have been very wrong, and Emily would not have believed her another time, when she was to have any thing done to her.

This little girl had no Mother. Her Mother was dead, and her Grandma took care of her, and was very kind to her, and Emily loved her dearly, and so she made up her mind to go and have her teeth out, without any trouble, because her Grandma was in bad health, and she knew that if she cried and made a great fuss about it, it would trouble her, and perhaps make her sick.

Now was not this thoughtful and good, in a little girl, only seven years old? I hope all the little boys and girls that read this will try to be as good.

After dinner, Emily and her Grandma put on their things, and went to the dentist's house. The little girl trembled when the door was opened, but she walked in without saying a word.

They went into the parlor, for there were some persons up stairs in the dentist's room, and they had to wait.

"Grandma," said Emily, "may I look at the books on the table? It will keep me from thinking about my teeth."

Her Grandma said she might, and the little girl was soon quite interested in looking at the pictures in the books, and showing them to her Grandma.

In a little while the servant came to tell her she could go upstairs. Her heart beat fast, but she went up to her Grandmother, and said, "Dear Grandma, you are not well; you look quite pale to-day. Do not go with me; I will go alone, and I promise you I will be a brave little girl."

She kissed her Grandma, and ran out of the room.

When she entered the room up stairs, she saw two ladies there. She stopped; but the dentist said, "Come in, my little girl, do not be afraid, I will be as gentle as I can."

The ladies saw that she was alone, so one of them went up to her and took her hand. She was an old lady, and wore spectacles, and she looked very kind and good. So the dear little girl let the dentist lift her into the great chair, and take off her hat, and the old lady kept hold of her hand, and said, "It will be over in a minute, my dear child," and then she pressed her little hand so kindly, that Emily felt quite comforted.

The other lady was a young lady, and she too felt sorry that Emily was to suffer. She wanted to smooth her hair, and give her a kiss; but she thought that the little girl might be afraid of so many strangers, so she sat down very quietly.

When the dentist had looked into Emily's mouth, he saw that four teeth must come out. So he got the instrument, and held her head tight with his arm.

Emily turned pale, but she kept quite still, and did not cry or scream; and the dentist pulled out the four teeth, one after the other, without a sound from her lips.

When they were all out, some large tears came from her eyes, and rolled down her cheeks; but she only said "Thank you," to the lady that held her hand; and, putting her handkerchief to her mouth, she ran down stairs.

"My darling child," said her Grandma, "how well you have behaved; I did not hear the least noise."

"No, Grandma," replied Emily, "I tried very hard not to scream; I was determined to be quite still; and a good old lady like you, Grandma, held my hand, which was a great comfort. But, oh! Grandma, it _did_ hurt me.

"My dear child, I know it did," said her Grandma; "you are the best little girl in the world, and a happiness and a treasure to me."

After Emily had gone, the ladies who had witnessed her good conduct, and admired her courage, asked her name and where she lived, and one of them, the young lady, sent her a pretty little gold ring with a blue stone in it, and a little note containing these words:

"For the dear little girl, who had the courage to bear a great pain nobly."

Emily was very much pleased with this little present; it was so unexpected. She could not find out who had sent it to her.

I hope all the little boys and girls will read this story with attention, and when they go to the dentist's they will think of Emily, and try to imitate her good conduct.

THE WIG.

Julia and her brother James were very early, one cold winter morning, sitting in the basement. They were not wicked children, but they were very thoughtless, and sometimes they did a great deal of mischief.

I am afraid they were doing mischief now, for Julia was sitting by the window, cutting up Mamma's apron to make a dress for her doll; and James was kneeling on the rug, pulling pieces of worsted out of it and throwing them into the fire, and seemed very much amused as he watched them rolling about and curling up with the heat.

While they were thus employed, two children passed the window.

"Only look, brother," said Julia, "at these poor children. How cold they must be! see, the little boy has no hat on, and his toes are coming out of his shoes, and the little girl's frock is all ragged."

"Let us call them in," said James, "and they can warm themselves by the fire."

As James said this, he tapped on the window, and the little children came to the basement door. James ran and opened the door, and said, "Come in, poor children, and warm yourselves." He placed his own and his sister's little chair for them by the fire, and then Julia and he went into a corner of the room to consult together what they should give them, to make them warm.

Now the Father of these children had had the misfortune to lose his hair, and he was obliged to wear a wig. Every night, when he went to bed, he used to take off his wig, and hang it upon a nail in his dressing-room, and put on a white night-cap with a long tassel at the end of it.

The morning that I am telling about, he was not yet up, as it was very early; and the wig was hanging on the nail, as I have told you.

James looked at the poor little boy. He saw that his ears were very red with the cold, and he said to his sister, "I will go up stairs, and find something to put on his head."

So he ran up stairs very fast, and went into his Father's dressing-room and looked all round. Presently he saw the wig hanging on the nail. "Oh!" said he to himself, "that is just the thing. It will come all over the poor boy's ears, and keep them very warm indeed."

So this thoughtless little fellow climbed up on a chair, and pulled the wig off the nail, and then went into the closet and got a pair of new boots of his own; and running down as fast as he could, he pulled the wig over the poor boy's ears, and helped him on with the boots. They fitted exactly, for James and he were very nearly of the same size.

While he was doing this, Julia had dressed the little girl in a nice warm frock of her own, and also made her a present of her school muff, and the little beggar children went away, highly delighted with their good fortune, and were out of sight long before any one had come into the room to prevent all this mischief.

When their Father got up, he opened the door of his bed-room, which led into the dressing-room, and began to dress himself. Presently he went to the side of the room where he had hung up his wig the night before. The nail was empty. There was no wig on it. He looked down on the carpet, and on all the chairs, and in all the drawers, but there was no wig to be found. He rang the bell, and said to the servant, "Do you know any thing about my wig?"

But the servant said she had not been in the room. She did not know where it was.

Now only see, what trouble these children had made for their kind Father; and how ashamed and frightened they were, when they saw him come into the basement room with his night-cap on, and their Mother with him, looking very grave, for she was afraid that the children knew more about the wig than any body else.

"James," said his Father, "do you know where my wig is?"

At first James was afraid to speak; but although these children were heedless, and fond of doing mischief, they were not liars. So James came close to his Father, and said, "Dear Papa, I will tell you the truth. I am afraid I have been very naughty. I gave your wig to a poor boy who had no hat, and I gave him my new boots too, for his shoes were full of holes. I am very sorry, Papa. Please to punish me, and forgive Julia."

"Why, what has Julia been doing?" said her Mamma and Papa at the same time.

"I gave the little girl my new frock, and my school muff," said Julia, "she looked so cold. Her little hands were nearly frozen."

"My dear children," said their Father, "I do not blame you for wishing to be kind to the poor, but do you not see how wrong it is to be so thoughtless, and what trouble you give your Mother and me by such conduct? If you do not think before you act, you will always be in mischief, and perhaps do a great deal of injury. To make you remember this--you, Julia, must go to school for two weeks without a muff, and wear your old dress; and you, James, must have your old boots patched, and wear them instead of the new ones which you gave to the poor boy."

The children submitted to this punishment without a murmur; but they were dreadfully grieved when they saw the trouble they had made for their dear Father, who could not leave the house, or attend to his business for two whole days, as it took all that time to have another wig made for him. They even could not laugh when the kitten climbed up the back of his chair, and tried to play with the tassel of his night-cap; and ever after, when they were going to do a thoughtless thing, they would recollect their Father's wig in time to stop; and at last they got to be as careful and thoughtful, as they were before heedless and mischievous.

THE BOYS' SCHOOL.

Not very long ago, Mr. Harrison kept a boarding-school for little boys, in a delightful village in Connecticut. He took twenty boys to educate, and he was so kind, and had such a pleasant way of teaching, that the boys were happier with him than they would have been at home.