Chapter V: Introduction (3)

_Mr. B._ A very useful trade! The corn we grow must be ground, or it will do us little good. But what will you do for a mill, my friend?

_B._ I suppose we must make one, sir.

_Mr. B._ True; but then you must bring with you a millwright for the purpose. As for millstones, we will take them out with us. Who is next?

_C._ I am a carpenter, sir.

_Mr. B._ The most necessary man that could offer! We shall find you work enough, never fear. There will be houses to build, fences to make, and all kinds of wooden furniture to provide. But our timber is all growing. You will have a great deal of hard work to do in felling trees, and sawing planks, and shaping posts and the like. You must be a field-carpenter as well as a house-carpenter.

_C._ I will, sir.

_Mr. B._ Very well! then I engage you, but you had better bring two or three able hands along with you.

_D._ I am a blacksmith, sir.

_Mr. B._ An excellent companion for the carpenter! We cannot do without either of you; so you may bring your great bellows and anvil, and we will set up a forge for you as soon as we arrive. But, by-the-by, we shall want a mason for that purpose.

_E._ I am one, sir.

_Mr. B._ That’s well. Though we may live in loghouses at first, we shall want brick or stone work for chimneys, and hearths, and ovens; so there will be employment for a mason. But if you can make bricks and burn lime, too, you will be still more useful.

_E._ I will try what I can do, sir.

_Mr. B._ No man can do more. I engage you. Who is next?

_F._ I am a shoemaker, sir.

_Mr. B._ And shoes we cannot well do without. But can you make them, like Eumæus in the Odyssey, out of a raw hide? for I fear we shall get no leather.

_F._ But I can dress hides, too.

_Mr. B._ Can you?—then you are a clever fellow, and I will have you, though I give you double wages.

_G._ I am a tailor, sir.

_Mr. B._ Well—though it will be some time before we want holyday-suits, yet we must not go naked; so there will be work for the tailor But you are not above mending and botching, I hope, for we must not mind patched clothes while we work in the woods.

_G._ I am not, sir.

_Mr. B._ Then I engage you, too.

_H._ I am a weaver, sir.

_Mr. B._ Weaving is a very useful art, but I question if we can find room for it in our colony for the present. We shall not grow either hemp or flax for some time to come, and it will be cheaper for us to import our cloth than to make it. In a few years, however, we may be very glad of you.

_J._ I am a silversmith and jeweller, sir.

_Mr. B._ Then, my friend, you cannot go to a worse place than a new colony to set up your trade in. You will break us, or we shall starve you.

_J._ But I understand clock and watch making, too.

_Mr. B._ That is somewhat more to our purpose, for we shall want to know how time goes. But I doubt we cannot give you sufficient encouragement for a long time to come. For the present you had better stay where you are.

_K._ I am a barber and hairdresser, sir.

_Mr. B._ Alas! what can we do with you? If you will shave our men’s rough beards once a week, and crop their hair once a quarter, and be content to help the carpenter, or follow the plough the rest of your time, we shall reward you accordingly. But you will have no ladies and gentlemen to dress for a ball, or wigs to curl and powder for Sundays, I assure you. Your trade will not stand by itself with us for a great time to come.

_L._ I am a medical man, sir.

_Mr. B._ Then, sir, you are very welcome. Health is the first of blessings, and if you can give us that, you will be a valuable man indeed. But I hope you understand surgery as well as physic, for we are likely enough to get cuts and bruises, and broken bones occasionally.

_L._ I have had experience in that branch too, sir.

_Mr. B._ And if you understand the nature of plants, and their uses both in medicine and diet, it will be a great addition to your usefulness.

_L._ Botany has been a favourite study with me, sir; and I have some knowledge of chymistry, and the other parts of natural history, too.

_Mr. B._ Then you will be a treasure to us, sir, and I shall be happy to make it worth your while to go with us.

_M._ I, sir, am a lawyer.

_Mr. B._ Sir, your most obedient servant. When we are rich enough to go to law, we will let you know.

_N._ I am a schoolmaster, sir.

_Mr. B._ That is a profession which I am sure I do not mean to undervalue; and as soon as ever we have young folks in our colony, we shall be glad of your services. Though we are to be hard-working, plain people, we do not intend to be ignorant, and we shall make it a point to have every one taught reading and writing, at least. In the meantime, till we have employment enough for you in teaching, you may keep the accounts and records of the colony: and on Sunday you may read prayers to all those that choose to attend upon you.

_N._ With all my heart, sir.

_Mr. B._ Then I engage you. Who comes here with so bold an air?

_O._ I am a soldier, sir; will you have me?

_Mr. B._ We are peaceable people, and I hope shall have no occasion to fight. We mean honestly to purchase our land from the natives, and to be just and fair in all our dealings with them. William Penn, the founder of Pennsylvania followed that plan; and when the Indians were at war with all the other European settlers, a person in a quaker’s habit might pass through all their most ferocious tribes without the least injury. It is my intention, however, to make all my colonists soldiers, so far as to be able to defend themselves if attacked, and that being the case, we shall have no need of _soldiers by trade_.

_P._ I am a gentleman, sir; and I have a great desire to accompany you, because I hear game is very plentiful in that country.

_Mr. B._ A gentleman! And what good will you do us, sir?

_P._ O, sir, that is not at all my intention. I only mean to amuse myself.

_Mr. B._ But do you mean, sir, that we should pay for your amusement?

_P._ As to maintenance, I expect to be able to kill game enough for my own eating, with a little bread and garden-stuff, which you will give me. Then I will be content with a house somewhat better than the common ones; and your barber shall be my valet; so I shall give very little trouble.

_Mr. B._ And pray, sir, what inducement can we have for doing all this for you?

_P._ Why, sir, you will have the credit of having _one gentleman_ at least in your colony.

_Mr. B._ Ha, ha, ha! A facetious gentleman, truly! Well, sir, when we are ambitious of such a distinction, we will send for you.

EVENING V.
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THE DOG AND HIS RELATIONS.

Keeper was a farmer’s mastiff, honest, brave, and vigilant. One day, as he was ranging at some distance from home, he espied a wolf and a fox sitting together at the corner of a wood. Keeper, not much liking their looks, though by no means fearing them, was turning another way, when they called after him, and civilly desired him to stay, “Surely, sir,” says Reynard, “you wo’n’t disown your relations. My cousin Gaunt and I were just talking over family-matters, and we both agreed that we had the honour of reckoning you among our kin. You must know that, according to the best accounts, the wolves and dogs were originally one race in the forests of Armenia; but the dogs, taking to living with man, have since become inhabitants of towns and villages, while the wolves have retained their ancient mode of life. As to my ancestors, the foxes, they were a branch of the same family, who settled farther northward, where they became stinted in their growth, and adopted the custom of living in holes under ground. The cold has sharpened our noses, and given us a thicker fur and bushy tails to keep us warm. But we have all a family likeness which it is impossible to mistake; and I am sure it is our interest to be good friends with each other.”

The wolf was of the same opinion; and Keeper, looking narrowly at them, could not help acknowledging their relationship. As he had a generous heart, he readily entered into friendship with them. They took a ramble together; but Keeper was rather surprised at observing the suspicious shyness with which some of the weaker sort of animals surveyed them, and wondered at the hasty flight of a flock of sheep as soon as they came within view. However, he gave his cousins a cordial invitation to come and see him at his yard, and then took his leave.

They did not fail to come the next day about dusk. Keeper received them kindly, and treated them with part of his own supper. They stayed with him till after dark, and then marched off with many compliments. The next morning word was brought to the farm that a goose and three goslings were missing, and that a couple of lambs were found almost devoured in the home-field. Keeper was too honest himself readily to suspect others, so he never thought of his kinsmen on the occasion. Soon after, they paid him a second evening visit; and next day, another loss appeared, of a hen and her chickens, and a fat sheep. Now Keeper could not help mistrusting a little, and blamed himself for admitting strangers without his master’s knowledge. However, he still did not love to think ill of his own relations.

They came a third time. Keeper received them rather coldly; and hinted that he should like better to see them in the daytime; but they excused themselves for want of leisure. When they took their leave he resolved to follow at some distance and watch their motions. A litter of young pigs happened to be lying under a haystack without the yard. The wolf seized one by the back, and ran off with him. The pig set up a most dismal squeal; and Keeper, running up at the noise, caught his dear cousin in the fact. He flew at him and made him relinquish his prey, though not without much snarling and growling. The fox, who had been prowling about the henroost, now came up, and began to make protestations of his own innocence, with heavy reproaches against the wolf for thus disgracing the family. “Begone, scoundrels both!” cried Keeper; “I know you now too well. You may be of my blood, but I am sure you are not of my spirit. Keeper holds no kindred with villains.” So saying, he drove them from the premises.

THE HISTORY AND ADVENTURES OF A CAT.

Some days ago died GRIMALKIN, the favourite tabby-cat of Mrs. Petlove. Her disorder was a shortness of breath, proceeding partly from old age, and partly from fat. As she felt her end approaching, she called her children to her, and with a great deal of difficulty spoke as follows:—

“Before I depart from this world, my children, I mean, if my breath will give me leave, to relate to you the principal events of my life, as the variety of scenes I have gone through may afford you some useful instruction for avoiding those dangers to which our species are particularly exposed.

“Without further preface, then, I was born at a farmhouse, in a village some miles hence; and almost as soon as I came into the world, I was very near leaving it again. My mother brought five of us at a litter; and as the frugal people of the house only kept cats to be useful, and were already sufficiently stocked, we were immediately doomed to be drowned; and accordingly, a boy was ordered to take us all and throw us into the horsepond. This commission he performed with the pleasure boys seem naturally to take in acts of cruelty, and we were presently set a swimming. While we were struggling for life, a little girl, daughter to the farmer, came running to the pond-side, and begged very hard that she might save one of us, and bring him up for her own. After some dispute her request was granted; and the boy, reaching out his arm, took hold of me, who was luckily nearest him, and brought me out when I was just spent. I was laid on the grass, and it was some time before I recovered. The girl then restored me to my mother, who was overjoyed to get again one of her little ones; and for fear of another mischance, she took me in her mouth to a dark hole, where she kept me till I could see, and was able to run by her side. As soon as I came to light again, my little mistress took possession of me, and tended me very carefully. Her fondness, indeed, was sometimes troublesome, as she pinched my sides with carrying me, and once or twice hurt me a good deal by letting me fall. Soon, however, I became strong and active, and played and gambolled all day long, to the great delight of my mistress and her companions.

“At this time I had another narrow escape. A man brought into the house a strange dog, who had been taught to worry all the cats that came in his way. My mother slunk away at his entrance; but I, thinking, like a little fool as I was, that I was able to protect myself, stayed on the floor, growling, and setting up my back by way of defiance. The dog instantly ran at me, and before I could get my claws ready, seized me with his mouth, and began to gripe and shake me most terribly. I screamed out, and, by good luck, my mistress was within hearing. She ran to us, but was not able to disengage me; however, a servant, seeing her distress took a great stick, and gave the dog such a bang on the back, that he was forced to let me go. He had used me so roughly, that I was not able to stand for some time; but by care and a good constitution I recovered.

“I was now running after everybody’s heels, by which means I got one day locked up in the dairy. I was not sorry for this accident, thinking to feast upon the cream and other good things. But having climbed a shelf to get at a bowl of cream, I unluckily fell backward into a large vessel of buttermilk, where I should probably have been drowned, had not the maid heard the noise, and come to see what was the matter. She took me out, scolding bitterly at me, and after making me undergo a severe discipline at the pump to clean me, she dismissed me with a good whipping. I took care not to follow her into the dairy again.

“After a while I began to get into the yard, and my mother took me into the barn on a mousing expedition. I shall never forget the pleasure this gave me. We sat by a hole, and presently out came a mouse with a brood of young ones. My mother darted among them, and first demolished the old one, and then pursued the little ones, who ran about squeaking in dreadful perplexity. I now thought it was time for me to do something, and accordingly ran after a straggler, and soon overtook it. O, how proud was I, as I stood over my trembling captive, and patted him with my paws! My pride, however, soon met with a check; for seeing one day a large rat I courageously flew at him; but instead of running from me, he gave me such a bite on the nose, that I ran away to my mother mewing piteously, with my face all bloody and swelled. For some time I did not meddle with rats again; but at length, growing stronger and more skilful, I feared neither rats nor any other vermin, and acquired the reputation of an excellent hunter.

“I had some other escapes about this time. Once I happened to meet with some poisoned food laid for the rats, and eating it, I was thrown into a disorder that was very near killing me. At another time, I chanced to set my foot in a rat-trap, and received so many deep wounds from its teeth, that though I was loosened as gently as possible by the people who heard me cry, I was rendered lame for some weeks after.

“Time went on, and I arrived at my full growth; and forming an acquaintance with a male-cat about my age, after a decent resistance by scolding, biting, and scratching, we made a match of it. I became a mother in due time, and had the mortification of seeing several broods of my kittens disposed of in the same manner as my brothers and sisters had been. I shall mention two or three more adventures in the order I remember them. I was once prowling for birds along a hedge at some distance from home, when the ‘squire’s grayhounds came that way a coursing. As soon as they spied me, they set off full speed, and running much faster than I could do, were just behind me, when I reached a tree, and saved myself by climbing it. But a greater danger befell me on meeting with a parcel of boys returning from school. They surrounded me before I was aware, and obliged me to take refuge in a tree; but I soon found that a poor defence against such enemies; for they assembled about it, and threw stones on all sides, so that I could not avoid receiving many hard blows, one of which brought me senseless to the ground. The biggest boy now seized me, and proposed to the rest making what he called rare sport with me. This sport was to tie me to a board, and launching me on a pond, to set some water-dogs at me, who were to duck and half drown me, while I was to defend myself by biting their noses, and scratching their eyes. Already was I bound, and just ready to be set a sailing when the schoolmaster taking a walk that way, and seeing the bustle, came up, and obliged the boys to set me at liberty, severely reprimanding them for their cruel intentions.

“The next remarkable incident of my life was the occasion of my removal from the country. My mistress’s brother had a tame linnet, of which he was very fond; for it would come and light on his shoulder when he called for it, and feed out of his hand; and it sung well besides. This bird was usually either in its cage or upon a high perch; but one unlucky day, when he and I were alone in the room together, he came down on the table to pick up crumbs. I spied him, and not being able to resist the temptation, sprung at him, and catching him in my claws, soon began to devour him. I had almost finished when his master came into the room; and seeing me with the remains of poor linnet in my mouth, he ran to me in the greatest fury, and after chasing me several times round the room, at length caught me. He was proceeding instantly to hang me, when his sister, by many entreaties and tears, persuaded him, after a good whipping, to forgive me, upon the promise that I should be sent away. Accordingly, the next market-day I was despatched in the cart to a relation of theirs in this town, who wanted a good cat, as the house was overrun with mice.

“In the service of this family I continued a good while, performing my duty as a mouser extremely well, so that I was in high esteem. I soon became acquainted with all the particulars of a town life, and distinguished my activity in climbing walls and houses, and jumping from roof to roof, either in pursuit of prey, or upon gossiping parties with my companions. Once, however, I had like to have suffered for my venturing; for having made a great jump from one house to another, I lit upon a loose tile, which giving way with me, I fell from a vast height into the street, and should certainly have been killed, had I not had the luck to light in a dung-cart, whence I escaped with no other injury but being half stifled with filth.

“Notwithstanding the danger I had run from killing the linnet, I am sorry to confess that I was again guilty of a similar offence. I contrived one night to leap down from a roof upon the board of some pigeon-holes, which led to a garret inhabited by those birds. I entered, and finding them asleep, made sad havoc among all that were within my reach, killing and sucking the blood of near a dozen. I was near paying dearly for this, too; for on attempting to return, I found it was impossible for me to leap up again to the place whence I had descended, so that, after several dangerous trials, I was obliged to wait trembling in the place where I had committed all these murders, till the owner came up in the morning to feed his pigeons. I rushed out between his legs as soon as the door was opened, and had the good fortune to get safe down stairs, and make my escape through a window unknown; but never shall I forget the horrors I felt that night! Let my double danger be a warning to you, my children, to control your savage appetites, and on no account to do harm to those creatures which, like ourselves, are under the protection of man. We cats all lie under a bad name for treacherous dispositions in this respect, and with shame I must acknowledge it is but too well merited.

“Well—but my breath begins to fail me, and I must hasten to a conclusion. I still lived in the same family, when our present kind mistress, Mrs. Petlove, having lost a favourite tabby, advertised a very handsome price for another, that should as nearly as possible resemble her dead darling. My owners, tempted by the offer, took me for the good lady’s inspection, and I had the honour of being preferred to a multitude of rivals. I was immediately settled in the comfortable mansion we now inhabit, and had many favours and indulgences bestowed upon me, such as I had never before experienced. Among these I reckon one of the principal that of being allowed to rear all my children, and to see them grow up in peace and plenty. My adventures here have been few; for after the monkey had spitefully bit off the last joint of my tail, (for which I had the satisfaction to see him soundly corrected,) I kept beyond the length of his chain; and neither the parrot nor lapdogs ever dared to molest me. One of the greatest afflictions I have felt here was the stifling of a whole litter of my kittens by a fat old lady, a friend of my mistress, who sat down on the chair where they lay, and never perceived the mischief she was doing till she rose, though I pulled her clothes and used all the means in my power to show my uneasiness. This misfortune my mistress took to heart almost as much as myself, and the lady has never since entered our doors. Indeed, both I and mine had ever been treated here with the utmost kindness—perhaps with too much; for, to the pampering me with delicacies, together with Mrs. Abigail’s frequent washings, I attribute this asthma, which is now putting an end to my life rather sooner than its natural period. But I know all was meant well; and with my last breath I charge you all to show your gratitude to our worthy mistress, by every return in your power.

“And now, my dear children, farewell; we shall perhaps meet again in a land where there are no dogs to worry us, or boys to torment us—Adieu!”

Having thus said, Grimalkin became speechless, and presently departed this life, to the great grief of all the family.

CANUTE’S REPROOF TO HIS COURTIERS.

PERSONS.

CANUTE King of England.
OSWALD, OFFA Courtiers.

Scene—_The seaside, near Southampton. The tide coming in._

_Canute._ Is it true, my friends, what you have so often told me, that I am the greatest of monarchs?

_Offa._ It is true, my liege; you are the most powerful of all kings.

_Oswald._ We are all your slaves; we kiss the dust of your feet.

_Offa._ Not only we, but even the elements, are your slaves. The land obeys you from shore to shore; and the sea obeys you.

_Canute._ Does the sea, with its loud boisterous waves, obey me? Will that terrible element be still at my bidding?

_Offa._ Yes, the sea is yours; it was made to bear your ships upon its bosom, and to pour the treasures of the world at your royal feet. It is boisterous to your enemies, but it knows you to be its sovereign.

_Canute._ Is not the tide coming up?

_Oswald._ Yes, my liege; you may perceive the swell already.

_Canute._ Bring me a chair, then; set it here upon the sands.

_Offa._ Where the tide is coming up, my gracious lord?

_Canute._ Yes, set it just here.

_Oswald_ (_aside_). I wonder what he is going to do!

_Offa_ (_aside_). Surely, he is not such a fool as to believe us!

_Canute._ O, mighty ocean! thou art my subject: my courtiers tell me so; and it is thy bounden duty to obey me. Thus, then, I stretch my sceptre over thee, and command thee to retire. Roll back thy swelling waves, nor let them presume to wet the feet of me, thy royal master.

_Oswald_ (_aside_). I believe the sea will pay very little regard to his royal commands.

_Offa._ See how fast the tide rises!

_Oswald._ The next wave will come up to the chair. It is folly to stay; we shall be covered with salt water.

_Canute._ Well, does the sea obey my commands? If it be my subject, it is a very rebellious subject. See how it swells and dashes the angry foam and salt spray over my sacred person. Vile sycophants! did you think I was the dupe of your base lies? that I believed your abject flatteries? Know, there is only one Being whom the sea will obey. He is sovereign of heaven and earth, King of kings, and Lord of lords. It is only he who can say to the ocean—“Thus far shalt thou go, but no farther, and here shall thy proud waves be stayed.” A king is but a man; and a man is but a worm. Shall a worm assume the power of the great God, and think the elements will obey him? Take away this crown, I will never wear it more. May kings learn to be humble from my example, and courtiers learn truth from your disgrace.

DIALOGUE, ON THINGS TO BE LEARNED,
BETWEEN MAMMA AND KITTY.

_Kitty._ Pray, mamma, may I leave off working? I am tired.

_Mamma._ You have done very little, my dear; you know you were to finish all that hem.

_K._ But I had rather write now, mamma, or read, or get my French grammar.

_M._ I know very well what that means, Kitty; you had rather do anything than what I set you about.

_K._ No, mamma; but you know I can work very well already, and I have a great many more things to learn. There’s Miss Rich that cannot sew half so well as I, and she is learning music and drawing already, besides dancing, and I don’t know how many other things. She tells me that they hardly work at all in their school.

_M._ Your tongue runs at a great rate, my dear; but, in the first place, you cannot sew very well for if you could, you would not have been so long in doing this little piece. Then I hope you will allow that mammas know better what is proper for their little girls to learn than they do themselves?

_K._ To be sure, mamma; but as I suppose I must learn all these things some time or other, I thought you would like to have me begin them soon, for I have often heard you say that children cannot be set too early about what is necessary for them to do.

_M._ That’s very true; but all things are not equally necessary to every one; for some that are very fit for one, are scarcely proper at all for others.

_K._ Why, mamma?

_M._ Because, my dear, it is the purpose of all education to fit persons for the station in which they are hereafter to live; and you know there are very great differences in that respect, both among men and women.

_K._ Are there? I thought all _ladies_ lived alike.

_M._ It is usual to call all well-educated women, who have no occasion to work for their livelihood, _ladies_; but, if you will think a little, you must see that they live very differently from each other, for their fathers and husbands are in very different ranks and situations in the world, you know.

_K._ Yes, I know that some are lords, and some are ‘squires, and some are clergymen, and some are merchants, and some are doctors, and some are shopkeepers.

_M._ Well: and do you think the wives and daughters of these persons can have just the same things to do, and the same duties to perform? You know how I spend my time. I have to go to market and provide for the family, to look after the servants, to help in taking care of you children, and in teaching you to see that your clothes are in proper condition, and assist in making and mending for myself, and you, and your papa. All this is my necessary duty; and besides this, I must go out a visiting to keep up our acquaintance; this I call partly business, and partly amusement. Then when I am tired, and have done all that I think necessary, I may amuse myself with reading, or in any other proper way. Now a great many of these employments do not belong to Lady Wealthy, or Mrs. Rich, who keep housekeepers and governesses, and servants of all kinds, to do everything for them. It is very proper, therefore, for them to pay more attention to music, drawing, ornamental work, and any other elegant manner of passing their time and making themselves agreeable.

_K._ And shall I have all the same things to do, mamma, that you have?

_M._ It is impossible, my dear, to foresee what your future station will be; but you have no reason to expect that if you have a family you will have fewer duties to perform than I have. This is the way of life for which your education should prepare you; and everything will be useful and important for you to learn, in proportion as it will make you fit for this.

_K._ But when I am grown a young lady, shall I not have to visit, and go to assemblies and plays, as Miss Wilsons and Miss Johnsons do?

_M._ It is very likely you may enter into some amusement of this sort: but even then you will have several more serious employments, which will take up a much greater part of your time; and if you do not do them properly, you will have no right to partake of the others.

_K._ What will they be, mamma?

_M._ Why, don’t you think it proper that you should assist me in my household affairs a little, as soon as you are able?

_K._ O yes, mamma, I should be very glad to do that.

_M._ Well, consider what talents will be necessary for that purpose; will not a good hand at your needle be one of the very first qualities?

_K._ I believe it will.

_M._ Yes, and not only in assisting _me_, but in making things for _yourself_. You know how we admired Miss Smart’s ingenuity when she was with us, in contriving and making so many articles of her dress, for which she must otherwise have gone to the milliner’s, which would have cost a great deal of money.

_K._ Yes; she made my pretty bonnet, and she made you a very handsome cap.

_M._ Very true; she was so clever as not only to furnish herself with these things, but to oblige her friends with some of her work. And I dare say she does a great deal of plain work also for herself and her mother. Well, then, you are convinced of the importance of this business, I hope.

_K._ Yes, mamma.

_M._ Reading and writing are such necessary parts of education, that I need not say much to you about them.

_K._ O no, for I love reading dearly.

_M._ I know you do, if you can get entertaining stories to read, but there are many things also to be read for instruction, which perhaps may not be so pleasant at first.

_K._ But what need is there of so many books of this sort?

_M._ Some are to teach you your duty to your Maker, and your fellow-creatures, of which I hope you are sensible you ought not to be ignorant. Then it is very right to be acquainted with geography; for you remember how poor Miss Blunder was laughed at for saying that if ever she went to France, it should be by land.

_K._ That was because England is an island, and all surrounded with water, was it not?

_M._ Yes, Great Britain, which contains both England and Scotland, is an island. Well, it is very useful to knew something of the nature of plants, and animals, and minerals, because we are always using some or other of them. Something, too, of the heavenly bodies is very proper to be known, both that we may admire the power and wisdom of God in creating them, and that we may not make foolish mistakes, when their natures and properties are the subject of conversation. The knowledge of history too, is very important, especially that of our own country; and in short, everything that makes part of the discourse of rational and well-educated people, ought in some degree to be studied by every one who has proper opportunities.

_K._ Yes, I like some of those things very well. But pray, mamma, what do I learn French for—am I ever to live in France?

_M._ Probably not, my dear; but there are a great many books written in French that are very well worth reading; and it may every now and then happen that you may be in company with foreigners who cannot speak English, and as they almost all talk French, you may be able to converse with them in that language.

_K._ Yes, I remember there was a gentleman here that came from Germany, I think, and he could hardly speak a word of English, but papa and you could talk to him in French; and I wished very much to be able to understand what you were saying, for I believe part of it was about me.

_M._ It was. Well, then, you see the use of French. But I cannot say this is a _necessary_ part of knowledge to young women in general, only it is well worth acquiring, if a person has leisure and opportunity. I will tell you, however, what is quite necessary for one in your station, and that is, to write a good hand, and to cast accounts well.

_K._ I should like to write well, because then I should send letters to my friends when I pleased, and it would not be such a scrawl as our maid Betty writes, that I dare say her friends can hardly make it out.

_M._ She had not the advantage of learning when young, for you know she taught herself since she came to us, which was a very sensible thing of her, and I suppose she will improve. Well, but accounts are almost as necessary as writing; for how could I cast up all the market-bills and tradesman’s accounts, and keep my housebooks, without it?

_K._ And what is the use of that, mamma?

_M._ It is of use to prevent our being overcharged in anything, and to know exactly how much we spend, and whether or not we are exceeding our income, and in what articles we ought to be more saving. Without keeping accounts the richest man might soon come to be ruined, before he knew that his affairs were going wrong.

_K._ But do women always keep accounts? I thought that was generally the business of the men.

_M._ It is their business to keep the accounts belonging to their trade, or profession, or estate; but it is the business of their wives to keep all the household accounts; and a woman almost in any rank, unless, perhaps, some of the highest of all, is to blame if she does not take upon her this necessary office. I remember a remarkable instance of the benefit which a young lady derived from an attention to this point. An eminent merchant in London failed for a great sum!

_K._ What does that mean, mamma?

_M._ That he owed a great deal more than he could pay. His creditors, that is, those to whom he was indebted, on examining his accounts, found great deficiencies which they could not make out; for he had kept his books very irregularly, and had omitted to put down many things that he had bought and sold. They suspected, therefore, that great waste had been made in the family expenses; and they were the more suspicious of this, as a daughter, who was a very genteel young lady, was his housekeeper, his wife being dead. She was told of this; upon which, when the creditors were all met, she sent them her housebooks for their examination. They were all written in a very fair hand, and every single article was entered with the greatest regularity, and the sums were all cast up with perfect exactness. The gentlemen were so highly pleased with the proof of the young lady’s ability, that they all agreed to make her a handsome present out of the effects; and one of the richest of them, who was in want of a clever wife, soon after paid his addresses to her, and married her.

_K._ That was very lucky, for I suppose she took care of her poor father when she was rich. But I shall have nothing of that sort to do a great while.

_M._ No; but young women should keep their own account of clothes and pocket-money, and other expenses, as I intend you shall do when you grow up.

_K._ Am I not to learn dancing, and music, and drawing, too, mamma?

_M._ Dancing you shall certainly learn pretty soon, because it is not only an agreeable accomplishment in itself, but is useful in forming the body to ease and elegance in all its motions. As to the other two, they are merely ornamental accomplishments, which, though a woman of middling station may be admired for possessing, yet she will never be censured for being without. The propriety of attempting to acquire them must depend on natural genius for them, and upon leisure and other accidental circumstances. For some they are too expensive, and many are unable to make such progress in them as will repay the pains of beginning. It is soon enough, however, for us to think about these things, and at any rate they are not to come in till you have made a very good proficiency in what is useful and necessary. But I see you have now finished what I set you about, so you shall take a walk with me into the marketplace, where I have two or three things to buy.

_K._ Shall we not call at the bookseller’s, to inquire for those new books that Miss Reader was talking about?

_M._ Perhaps we may. Now lay up your work neatly, and get on your hat and tippet.

Alfred the Great, _p. 80_

EVENING VI.
]

ON THE OAK.—A DIALOGUE.

_Tutor_—_George_—_Harry_.

_Tutor._—Come, my boys, let us sit down awhile under yon shady tree. I don’t know how your young legs feel, but mine are almost tired.

_Geo._ I am not tired, but I am very hot.

_Har._ And I am hot and very dry, too.

_Tut._ When you have cooled yourself, you may drink out of that clear brook. In the meantime, we will read a little out of a book I have in my pocket. [_They go and sit down at the foot of the tree._]

_Har._ What an amazing large tree! How wide its branches spread! Pray what tree is it?

_Geo._ I can tell you that. It is an oak. Don’t you see the acorns?

_Tut._ Yes, it is an oak—the noblest tree this country produces; not only grand and beautiful to the sight, but of the greatest importance from its uses.

_Har._ I should like to know something about it?

_Tut._ Very well; then instead of reading we will sit and talk about oaks. George, who knew the oak by its acorns—should you have known it if there had been none?

_Geo._ I don’t know; I believe not.

_Tut._ Observe, then, in the first place, that its bark is very rugged. Then see in what manner it grows: its great arms run out almost horizontally from its trunk, giving the whole tree a sort of round form, and making it spread far on every side. Its branches are also subject to be crooked or kneed. By these marks you might guess at an oak even in winter, when quite bare of leaves. But its leaves afford a surer mark of distinction, since they differ a good deal from those of other English trees, being neither whole and even at the edges, nor yet cut like the teeth of a saw, but rather deeply scolloped, and formed into several rounded divisions. Their colour is a fine deep green. Then the fruit—

_Har._ Fruit!

_Tut._ Yes; all kinds of plants have what may properly be called fruit, though we are apt to give that name only to such as are food for man. The fruit of a plant is the seed, with what contains it. This, in the oak, is called an acorn, which is a kind of nut, partly enclosed in a cup.

_Geo._ Acorn-cups are very pretty things. I have made boats of them, and set them swimming in a basin.

_Tut._ And if you were no bigger than a fairy, you might use them for drinking cups, as those imaginary little beings are said to do.

Pearly drops of dew we drink,
In acorn-cups filled to the brink.

_Har._ Are acorns good to eat?

_Geo._ No; that they are not. I have tried, and did not like them at all.

_Tut._ In the early ages of man, before he cultivated the earth, but lived upon such wild products as Nature afforded, we are told that acorns made a considerable part of his food; and at this day they are eaten in Spain and Greece, and in some other of the southern countries of Europe. But they are sweeter and better flavoured than ours, and are produced by a different species of oak. The chief use which we make of those which grow in this country is to feed hogs. In those parts of England where oak-woods are common, great herds of swine are kept, which are driven into the woods in autumn, when the acorns fall, and provide for themselves plentifully for two or three months. This, however, is a small part of the praise of the oak. You will be surprised when I tell you that to this tree our country owes its chief glory and security.

_Har._ Ay! how can that be?

_Tut._ I don’t know whether in your reading you have ever met with the story, that Athens, a famous city in Greece, consulting the oracle how it might best defend itself against its enemies, was advised to trust to wooden walls.

_Har._ Wooden walls? that’s odd. I should think stone-walls better; for wooden ones might be set on fire.

_Tut._ True: but the meaning was, that as Athens was a place of great trade, and its people were skilled in maritime affairs, they ought to trust to their ships. Well, this is the case with Great Britain. As it is an island, it has no need of walls and fortifications, while it possesses ships to keep all enemies at a distance. Now, we have the greatest and finest navy in the world, by which we both defend ourselves, and attack other nations, when they insult us; and this is all built of oak.

_Geo._ Would no other wood do to build ships?

_Tut._ None nearly so well, especially for men-of-war; for it is the stoutest and strongest wood we have; and, therefore, best fitted, both to keep sound under water, and to bear the blows and shocks of the waves, and the terrible strokes of cannon-balls. It is a peculiar excellence for this last purpose, that oak is not so liable to splinter or shiver as other woods, so that a ball can pass through it without making a large hole. Did you never hear the old song,

Hearts of oak are our ships, hearts of oak are our men, &c.?

_Geo._ No.

_Tut._ It was made at a time when England was more successful in war than had ever before been known, and our success was properly attributed chiefly to our fleet, the great support of which is the British oak so I hope you will look upon oaks with due respect.

_Har._ Yes; it shall always be my favourite tree.

_Tut._ Had not Pope reason, when he said, in his _Windsor Forest_,

“Let India boast her plants, nor envy we
The weeping amber, or the balmy tree,
While by our oaks the precious loads are borne,
And realms commanded which those trees adorn!”

These lines refer to its use as well for merchant-ships as for men-of-war; and, in fact, all our ships are for the most part built either of native or foreign oak.

_Geo._ Are the masts of ships made of oak?

_Tut._ No; it would be too heavy. Besides, it would not be easy to find trunks of oak long and straight enough for that purpose. They are made of various sorts of fir or pine, which grow very tall and taper.

_Geo._ Is oak wood used for anything besides ship-building?

_Tut._ O yes; it is one of the principal woods of the carpenter, being employed wherever great strength and durability are required. It is used for door and window frames, and the beams that are laid in walls to strengthen them. Floors and staircases are sometimes made with it; and in old houses in the country, which were built when oak was more plentiful than at present, almost all the timber about them was oak. It is also occasionally used for furniture, as tables, chairs, drawers, and bedsteads; though mahogany has now much taken its place for the better sort of goods, and the lighter and softer woods for the cheaper; for the hardness of oak renders it difficult and expensive to work. It is still, however, the chief material used in mill-work, in bridge and water works, for wagon and cart bodies, for threshing-floors, for large casks and tubs, and for the last piece of furniture a man has occasion for. What is that, do you think, George?

_Geo._ I don’t know.

_Har._ A coffin.

_Tut._ So it is.

_Har._ But why should that be made of such strong wood?

_Tut._ There can be no other reason than that weak attachment we are apt to have for our bodies when we are done with them, which has made men in various countries desirous of keeping them as long as possible from decay. But I have not yet done with the uses of the oak. Were either of you ever in a tanner’s yard?

_Geo._ We often go by one at the end of the town; but we dare not go in for fear of the great dog.

_Tut._ But he is always chained in the daytime.

_Har._ Yes; but he barks so loud and looks so fierce, that we were afraid he would break his chain.

_Tut._ I doubt you are a couple of cowards. However, I suppose you came near enough to observe great stacks of bark in the yard.

_Geo._ O yes; there are several.

_Tut._ Those are oak-bark, and it is used in tanning the hides.

_Har._ What does it do to them?

_Tut._ I’ll tell you. The hide, when taken from the animal, after being steeped in lime and water to get off the hair and grease, is put to soak in a liquor made by steeping oak-bark in water. This liquor is strongly astringent, or binding, and has the property of converting skin into leather. The change which the hide thus undergoes renders it at the same time less liable to decay, and soft and pliable when dry; for raw skins, by drying, acquire nearly the hardness and consistence of horn. Other things are also tanned for the purpose of preserving them, as fishing-nets and boat-sails. This use of the bark of the oak makes it a very valuable commodity; and you may see people in the woods carefully stripping the oaks when cut down, and piling up the bark in heaps.

_Geo._ I have seen such heaps of bark, but I thought they were only to burn.

_Tut._ No; they are much too valuable for that. Well, but I have another use of the oak to mention, and that is in dying.

_Har._ Dying! I wonder what colour it can die?

_Tut._ Oak sawdust is a principal ingredient in dying fustians. By various mixtures and management it is made to give them all the different shades of drab and brown. Then, all the parts of the oak, like all other astringent vegetables, produce a dark blue or black by the addition of any preparation of iron. The bark is sometimes used in this way for dying black. And did you never see what the boys call an oak-apple?

_Geo._ Yes; I have gathered them myself.

_Tut._ Do you know what they are?

_Geo._ I thought they were the fruit of the oak.

_Tut._ No; I have told you that the acorns are the fruits. These are excrescences formed by an insect.

_Geo._ An insect! how can they make such a thing?

_Tut._ It is a sort of fly, that has the power of piercing the outer skin of the oak boughs, under which it lays its eggs. The part then swells into a kind of ball, and the young insects, when hatched, eat their way out. Well this ball or apple is a pretty strong astringent, and is sometimes used in dying black. But in the warm countries there is a species of oak which bears round excrescences of the same kind, called galls, which become hard, and are the strongest astringents known. They are the principal ingredients in the black dies, and common ink is made with them, together with a substance called green vitriol, or copperas, which contains iron.

I have now told you the chief uses that I can recollect of the oak; and these are so important, that whoever drops an acorn into the ground, and takes proper care of it when it comes up, may be said to be a benefactor to his country. Besides, no sight can be more beautiful and majestic than a fine oak-wood. It is an ornament fit for the habitation of the first nobleman in the land.

_Har._ I wonder, then, that all rich gentlemen who have ground enough do not cover it with oaks.