Chapter D: Appleton & Co. 200 Broadway

The care with which a doe rabbit provides for its young is very remarkable. She not only makes a nest of the softest hay, from which she carefully munches out all the harder portions, but she actually strips the fur or down off her own breast, to spread over the hay. At first she covers up her young ones with the same materials, in order to keep them warm, uncovering them only for the purpose of giving them suck. She is also extremely careful in proportioning this covering to the severity of the weather, and the tenderness or strength of her offspring, gradually diminishing it as they grow more robust.

If rabbits are kept and raised apart from their mother, it is then necessary that proper attention should be paid to them by the person who undertakes to raise them. That is the reason why you see little Harry feeding his rabbits. Little Harry is the only son of a poor woman who lives in a small cottage at the end of a lane on a large farm in this state belonging to a wealthy and thriving farmer. Although the farmer is very kind to Harry’s mother, allowing her to have the use of the cottage and an acre of ground free of rent, still the old woman has hard work to live comfortably. Knowing the advantages to be derived from the possession of a good education, she deprives herself of many comforts to enable her to send her only child, Harry, to school. Many of my little readers who peruse this, go to excellent schools, and never imagine that there are many who are deprived of that great advantage. When they think of this, and the opportunities they enjoy for improving themselves, they should exert themselves to the utmost to do so.

Harry being anxious to learn every thing he could, so that he might one day become a smart man, and be able to support his mother, never spent a cent for himself, but carried all he got to his mother. Perhaps you may think a poor little boy like him did not get many cents; but in this you are mistaken, for Harry was up bright and early every morning, and would often do little jobs for the farmers before he went to school. Then he had rabbit houses at the end of his mother’s cottage, where he kept a number of rabbits, which often had young ones; these he would take to market and sell for a good price. He raised a good many poultry, which brought in a good deal of money for the eggs and chickens. With these and other little matters that he raised on their acre of ground, he was enabled to collect enough money to pay for his schooling, and give his mother many comforts.

I hope all my readers will join with me in wishing Harry’s efforts may be successful, and that they may reap that reward which industry and kindness to parents deserve.

W. P.

THE SHIPWRECKED ON AN UNINHABITED ISLAND.

In the year 1805, a large ship, on the voyage homeward from the East Indies, was wrecked in a violent storm in the South Pacific Ocean, about 500 miles from the Cape of Good Hope. The ship went to pieces in the night, having struck on the rocky coast of an unknown island. When daylight appeared, 37 persons only remained out of about 200, who had been in the ship. These had been, for the most part, saved by seizing hold of spars or pieces of wood when the ship’s timbers separated. A woman and her two children got safe to shore on a hen-coop; indeed they were wrecked so near the shore, that the fowls in the hen-coop were found to be little worse for having been thrown into the sea. Part of a regiment, which had been some time in India, was returning to England in the ship, and some of the soldiers and their wives and children were among those who were saved. The ship’s cook and the carpenter were also saved, and some of the common sailors, but none of the officers of the ship, or those belonging to the regiment, were among the survivors. Only one of the many passengers had the good fortune to get to shore; and he had saved his life by being a strong swimmer. His name and station were unknown to the crew, but he had gained among them, during the voyage, the name of _the Philosopher_.

The first day which this small remainder of the ship’s crew passed on the island, on which Providence had thrown them, was melancholy enough. Most of them sat on the rocks or on the ground, and kept looking on the sea from which they had so lately escaped. Some were bewailing the loss of their relatives, some that of their money, and others that of their ship’s provisions; they were cold, and wet, and comfortless, and yet disposed to do nothing to better their condition.

Amidst this general idleness, the Philosopher, as he was called, was as busy as a bee. Instead of sauntering about with a book, or gazing at the clouds, as he had often done on board the ship, he was hurrying along the shore in all directions, with such of the men as he could persuade to move, and examining every little creek and bay about the part of the island on which they were cast away. And he was well rewarded for his trouble, for the sea threw upon the land all the lighter part of the cargo of the lost ship; provisions in sufficient abundance, some boxes of clothes, many chests of tea, some casks of flour, and large portions of the timbers and ropes of the vessel. In a small sandy creek, about a quarter of a mile distant from the wreck, one of the ship’s boats was found, upside down, and in it, preserved by being covered down tightly with a sail, were found a compass, a watch, and a few bottles of wine, with some biscuit, which had probably been put in for the use of the unfortunate persons who had ventured into the boat in the hope of reaching the land. A few yards farther on was found the dead body of a lady, one of the passengers from India, and by her side, wrapped closely and very carefully in a Scotch plaid, a male child of about a year old, which was first supposed to be dead also; but the Philosopher, fancying he perceived signs of life in the little creature, hurried back with the infant to the party who had refused to move, and gave it in charge to the women, which soon made them busy, for in the midst of their own misfortunes they were all anxious that the poor little child should live.

Before the day was over, many of the dead bodies were thrown ashore, and all were decently buried. Many of the drowned persons had filled their pockets with money, trinkets, and different valuables which they possessed. The hope of sharing this booty soon spread activity among all the other idlers, and the recovered property was pretty equally divided among them all; the Philosopher alone refusing to receive any of the money or valuables, and only reserving for his own use the compass, one of the watches, some of the books, with the paper and other contents of his writing-desk, which floated ashore after they had been on the island nearly a week. The spirits of the whole party being a little revived, they made fires, partook of an evening meal, and retired to rest in sheltered places under the hills, much more cheerfully than might have been expected in their situation.

It would be curious to relate the contrivances which the new inhabitants of the island had recourse to for their own comfort. The island was of a crescent shape, like most islands in the South Sea, and was five miles across and six in length, with a large and beautiful harbor. There was grass, and there were shrubs, and many beautiful and delicate trees, and flocks of wild pigeons and other birds, and many butterflies and other insects, but no quadrupeds of any kind.

Those who have read the adventures of Robinson Crusoe, know how much even one man might do in a desolate island, with the help of the stores of a ship, and with a gun and ammunition. Our shipwrecked people had many advantages over him. Some of the sailors had been brought up farmers’ boys, three of the soldiers were Glasgow weavers, the carpenter and the cook soon found plenty to do, and the women were tailors to the whole settlement.

In six months from the time of their landing, corn and potatoes were growing, hand-mills were working, women were spinning and teaching their children the same, and there were two looms nearly made by the ship’s carpenter, under the direction of the Glasgow weavers. Flowers were seen at the doors of several of the huts, and some parts of the island were inclosed with shrubs and trees. Women might be seen spinning and teaching their children how to do the same. Within six months more, the population of the island was increased by the birth of four children.

Every man at first worked at every thing; and the same man dug his ground, caught his wild-fowl, gathered the eggs from the nests in the rocks, and repaired his house when necessary. In short, every man was what we call a jack-of-all-trades, and as happens commonly in such cases, hardly any was master of one. But when the first clothes which they had got from the ship were almost worn out, and every man tried to patch and mend his own, they began to think it would be better if one or two of the party should take that business into their own hands, and it was then given up to the women. When the looms were set to work, the two weavers were chiefly employed in making a coarse kind of cloth from a sort of hemp which grew on the island, from which, after it was steeped in water and beaten with sticks, a strong thread could be spun. Of this cloth, of various thicknesses, they helped the women to make coats and gowns, boots and shoes, and stockings. They made hats of a strong flat rush which grew on the sand-hills near the sea. This work took up so much of their time that the land of the two weavers was overrun with weeds, and it was found better for them to give up their farm to a neighbor, who should be paid for the produce in boots, coats, and money. The carpenter also was but a poor farmer, and his crop failed. So he gave up farming, and worked away at building houses, and making tables, and chairs, and bedsteads, receiving payment in potatoes, corn, wild-fowls, eggs, or sometimes in money. In the course of two or three years, some were bakers only, some poulterers, some potato merchants, and only about half of the company were farmers; of which the consequence was the land was better tilled, the corn better ground and baked, the fowls better fed, eggs more easily to be had, the potatoes better, and the huts kept in better repair. Each man had a trade of his own, and each knew his trade pretty well. Each man was consequently better fed, clothed, and lodged, than when he worked at every trade himself.

The individual whom we have mentioned as the Philosopher, was not an idle man among all these working people. He was schoolmaster to all the children, who were so fond of him, that he was seldom to be seen without the strongest of them scrambling over the rocks or along the coast after him. He measured out and divided the land which was each man’s portion. He taught the rest of the men to select some of the roots with which the island abounded; and to cultivate near their dwellings the graceful trees which were natural to the soil. He made curious nets, which enabled others to catch a constant supply of fish and of birds. He constructed clocks of wood, which were found very useful in the different huts; and he taught some of the bigger boys to make vessels of clay as well as bricks, the latter of which made the foundation of the houses better able to resist the storms that now and then swept across the island. He also managed to make two or three musical instruments, on one or other of which he would occasionally play in an evening, whilst the children, and indeed often their fathers and mothers also, would dance on the grass after the labors of the day. He was the only person in the island who could keep an account of time; and he was of much use to the farmers in advising them when to sow different seeds, and in what soils. In short, there was no end to his contrivances. He also found time to make a collection of all the different plants that grew on the island, from some of which he prepared medicines for those who happened to be sick. He made a survey of the whole of the island, and made drawings of it and of the little town in which the shipwrecked people lived; cheering them by saying they would some day look at them in England. He persuaded every man and woman in the island to rest from work one day in seven; on which day he used to have them collected together, and on the long winter evenings, to read some prayers to them, and a chapter or two from a Bible which had come ashore with some other books. He taught many of the men and women to sing the hymns and ballads of their own country; and contrived to make them so busy and so comfortable, that many of them ceased to sigh for home; whilst their children, too, were growing up in the peaceful island, ignorant of all that was doing in any other land upon the globe, except what they learnt from the lessons and books of the good Philosopher.

HINTS ON READING.

A proper and judicious system of reading is of the highest importance. Two things are necessary in perusing the mental labors of others;—namely, not to read too much, and to pay great attention to the nature of what you do read. Many persons peruse books for the express and avowed purpose of consuming time; and this class of readers forms by far the majority of what are termed the “reading public.” Others, again, read with the laudable anxiety of being made wiser; and when this object is not attained, the disappointment may generally be attributed, either to the habit of reading too much, or of paying insufficient attention to what falls under their notice.

It is recorded of Madame De Stäel Holstein, that before she was fifteen years of age, she had “devoured” 600 novels in three months, so that she must have read more than six a day, upon an average. Louis XVI, during the five months and seven days of his imprisonment immediately preceding his death, read 157 volumes, or one a day. If this species of gluttony is pardonable in circumstances like those of Louis, it is less so in those of a young lady of fourteen or fifteen. No one can have time for reflection who reads at this rapid rate; and, whatever may be thought, these devourers of books are guilty of abusing nature to an extent, as much greater than those who overcharge their stomachs, as the intellectual powers are higher than the animal propensities. Thousands of young persons spend their time in perpetual reading, or rather in devouring books. It is true, the food is light; but it occupies the mental faculties for the time in fruitless efforts, and operates to exclude food of a better quality.

The manners of a people are not to be found in the schools of learning, or the palaces of greatness, where the national character is obscured or obliterated by travel or instruction, by philosophy or vanity; nor is public happiness to be estimated by the assemblies of the gay, or the banquets of the rich. The great mass of nations is neither rich nor gay: they whose aggregate constitutes the people, are found in the streets and villages, in the shops and farms; and from them, collectively considered, must the measure of general prosperity be taken.

W. P.

SCENES IN THE LIFE OF A ROACH.

WRITTEN AFTER SEVERAL INEFFECTUAL EFFORTS TO DRIVE ROACHES AWAY.

“I left my home some prey to track,
And promised my loved ones I soon would come back;
But when I returned—alack! alack!
I looked in vain for the well-known crack.”
Thus spake a poor Roach as he wandered alone,
And sad was his face, and mournful his tone;
For he thought on the home he never should see,
On Mrs. Roach and his loved family.
He remembered with grief that their larder was bare,
And young roaches he knew could not live upon air.
Ah! do you _human beings_ think what you’re about
When you fill up the cracks, and the old roaches out?

And poor Mrs. Roach sat sobbing at home,
Dreading that to her sposa some evil had come,
And the poor little young ones lay tumbling about,
Grieving much for their father who stayed so long out.
“At last,” quoth the eldest, “dear mother, I’ll go
And find if I can what keeps father so”—
And he started to go as he aye went before,
But gone was the crack they had used for a door!
Alas, human beings! do you know how you sin,
When you fill up the cracks, and the young roaches in?

Oh! then there was wailing within that dark hole,
For their grief was too deep to be under control,—
Said poor Mrs. Roach, “a widow I’ll be,
And who will provide for my dear family?”

Cheer up, little group! oh grieve not so sore!
If you’ll wait but a little there is comfort in store.
In the midst of their wailing a scraping they hear,
And lo! in their midst doth their sire appear.
“Cheer up, my dear wife, and ye children small,
For see, I have eaten my way through the wall!”

MORAL.

Good people, ’tis vain for you to stop up the holes,
For we roaches have _instinct_, if we have not got souls.
Here we’ve long been at home, and here we’ll remain,
And your _phosphorus_,[2] your _elder_,[2] and _wafers_,[2] are vain.
You may give up your efforts, your trouble and pother,
For when driven from one place, we will go to another:
If we weary your patience, your best plan, beyond doubt,
_Will be to move off_, ere we know that you’re out.

MARGARET R⸺.

[2] Various means for getting rid of roaches.

THE CARTER’S HELPMATES.

AN ANECDOTE OF KING GEORGE THE FOURTH.

The minuter details of George IV’s life are not of a kind either to interest or edify young people, but here is an anecdote of his boyhood that will be certain of securing your sympathies.

The manners and appearance of George III and his family were entirely simple and unostentatious, and the early youth of the young princes and princesses was but very slightly different from that of other young people of rank throughout the kingdom. It was the frequent habit of the king to wander about the neighborhood of Windsor, altogether unattended, and accompanied only by the young Prince of Wales, who was his almost inseparable companion.

One morning they were pursuing their walk in their usual manner, when they met a farm servant driving a covered cart towards Windsor; they had passed him only by a few paces, when a sudden stoppage of the vehicle, and the outcries of the driver, caused them to look around, and they then perceived that the cart had got fast into a rut of the road, and the man was vainly urging his horses to drag it out.

The prince sprang back, and with little thought of ceremony, began applying his strength to the wheel, his majesty watching his efforts for a moment in silence, but instantly after stepping forward himself in the same service. Encouraged by this unlooked for help, the carter flogged and bawled to his horses, while the royal shoulders heaved as heartily at the wheel; and Hercules—moved no doubt by their ship-shape mode of invoking his aid—gave them strength enough to accomplish what they desired: the vehicle was extricated, and the driver, grateful to his friends, swore roundly that they must take a draught of ale with him, offering at the same time a seat in front of his cart to the next public house.

This civil offer was not accepted; the King and Prince shook the dust of their late labor from their plain clothing, and prepared to bid their friend adieu; but first his majesty presented the fortunate carter with a guinea, which the prince, holding to be no very worthy gift, instantly amended by a couple from his own purse. The carter, lost in astonishment, stood looking after these surprising helpmates (first making any thing but graceful, though very sincere acknowledgments), and it was not until they had got fairly out of his sight that he could bethink himself of once more getting on with his team.

On arriving at the public house which he had destined as the place of his rejected treat, and relating the wondrous occurrence that had taken place, he was acquainted with the quality of his assistants; but he could in no way be brought to believe the fact. Above all, he insisted that, though the prince might be the prince, yet the king could not be the king; for, he argued, why else did the first give him two guineas, when the second, whom his informants would have to be the greater, gave him only one! No, this was not “in his philosophy,” and he was convinced that his friends were wrong.

The story, and especially the man’s obstinacy, was talked of till it reached the king, whom it greatly amused. Some time after, his majesty met the same man on the road, and thus accosted him:

“So, you think, my friend, that my present was not a king’s present, though my son’s might do for a prince, hey? But remember that I must be just before I am generous; the prince has only himself to think about, but I have many who look up to me, as your children at home do to you, for all they want—do not forget _that_, my friend; good morning, good morning.” And the monarch once more left John Carter to his cogitations.

THE FOLLY OF BEING VAIN.

Caroline was trifling away her time in the garden with a little favorite spaniel, her constant companion, when she was sent for to her music-master. But the servant called her no less than three times, before she thought proper to go into the house. When the lesson was finished, and the master gone, she turned to her mother, and asked her, in a fretful and impatient tone of voice, how much longer she was to be plagued with teachers—for she had had them a very long time, and she really thought she now knew quite enough of every thing.

“That you have had them a very long while,” answered her mother, “I perfectly agree with you; but that you have profited so much by their instruction, as you seem to imagine, I am not so certain. I must, however, acquaint you, my dear Caroline, that you will not be _plagued_ with them much longer. Your father says he has expended such large sums upon your education that he is quite vexed with himself for having done so, because he finds it impossible to be at an equal expense for your two little sisters. I should therefore advise you, whilst he is so good as to allow you to continue your lessons, to make the most of your time, that it may not be said you have been learning so long to no purpose.”

Caroline appeared quite astonished at her mother’s manner of speaking. The vain girl assured her that she knew every thing perfectly. She said, that if her father wished to save the expense of masters for her sisters, _she_ would undertake to make them quite as accomplished as she herself was.

Some time after this conversation, she accompanied her mamma on a visit to a particular friend, who resided in the country. As there were several gentlemen and ladies at the same time in the house, Caroline was extremely happy in the opportunity she thought it would give her of surprising so large a party by her music and other accomplishments. It was not very long before she gave them so many samples of her vanity and self-conceit, as rendered her quite ridiculous in their eyes.

She was never in the least ashamed to contradict those who were older and better instructed than herself. She would sit down to the harp, with the utmost unconcern, and attempt to play a sonata which she had never seen before, though at the same time she could not get through a little simple air, without blundering half a dozen times.

There lived, at about the distance of a mile from Mrs. Melvin’s house, a widow lady, with her daughter, a charming little girl, thirteen years of age. So very limited was the fortune of this lady, that she had never had it in her power to be at the smallest expense on account of her daughter’s education. Indeed, her income was so narrow, that, without the strictest economy in every respect, she could not have made it suffice to procure them the necessaries of life. So she was obliged to content herself with the little instruction she could give to her child. She encouraged her, as much as possible, to exert herself, and to endeavor to supply, by attention and perseverance, the want of a more able instructor.

When Caroline heard this talked of, she concluded immediately that Laura must be a poor little ignorant thing, whom she would astonish by a display of her accomplishments. The vain young lady enjoyed in idea the wonder she would show, when she beheld her beautiful drawings, heard her touch the keys of the piano, and speak French and Italian as well as her own language. This she wished to persuade herself was the case, though she knew no more of either of these languages than she did of all the other things of which she was so vain and conceited.

She told Mrs. Melvin that she really pitied extremely the situation of the poor unfortunate Laura, and wished, whilst she was so near, that she could have an opportunity of seeing her frequently, as she would give her some instruction, which would be of service to her. Mrs. Melvin was extremely disgusted with the vanity of her friend’s daughter. But, wishing to give her a severe mortification, which she thought would be of more use to her than any lesson she had ever received, she told her that she should pay Laura a visit the next morning.

The morning was very fine, and the whole company set forward immediately after breakfast. They were soon in sight of a very neat but small house, which they were informed belonged to the mother of Laura. A little white gate opened into a garden in the front of it. The grounds were so neat, and laid out with so much taste, that they all stopped to admire them, for the flowers and shrubs were tied up with the utmost nicety, and not a weed was to be seen in any part of the garden.

“This is Laura’s care,” said Mrs. Melvin; “her mother cannot afford to pay a gardener, but she hires a laborer now and then to turn up the ground, and, with the help of their maid, Laura keeps this little flower-garden in the order in which you see it. By inquiring of those who understand the subject, instead of fancying herself perfect in all things, she has gained so much information, that she is become a complete florist.”

They were shown into a very neat parlor, which was ornamented with a number of drawings. “Here,” said Mrs. Melvin, “you may again see the fruits of Laura’s industry and perseverance. She has had no instruction except the little her mother could give her, but she was determined to succeed, and has done so, as you may perceive. These drawings are executed with as much taste and judgment as could possibly be expected of so young a person, even if she had had the advantage of having a master to instruct her. The fringe on the window-curtains is entirely of her making. The pretty border and landscape on that fire-screen are of her cutting.”

Caroline began to fear she should not shine quite so much as she had expected to do. When Laura came into the room, and was desired to sit down at the piano, she was extremely mortified at hearing her play and sing two or three pretty little songs, so well and so sweetly, that every one present was delighted with her.

After they had amused themselves indoors, Laura’s mother invited them out into the garden, where the extreme neatness and care exhibited by Laura in its care was the theme of universal praise. One of the ladies of the party spoke in such extremely high terms of the beauty of the flowers, that Laura’s mother, who was now getting rather old and feeble, and was obliged to walk with a cane, picked a pretty bouquet and begged her to accept it.

Laura and her doings were so much the theme of praise from all, that Caroline found there was little opportunity of making the display she had expected to, and in fact felt her real inferiority, notwithstanding the many masters she had had, to the humble Laura, that she did not enjoy her visit near so much as she had anticipated to do. But her visit was of great service and benefit to her, for ever after she tried really to make good use of the instructions of her teachers; and it is therefore no wonder she became a better and wiser girl, casting aside her excessive vanity.

When my youthful readers attempt to show off, I think it will be of great use to them if they will remember this story of the vain little girl.

THE ORPHAN WANDERERS.