Chapter THE TENTH: The Visit

Sometime after the loss of the work-bag, the family received an invitation to dine at Mrs. _Grant_’s. On the day they were to go, Miss _Lydia_ took an opportunity of seeing her Mamma alone, and asking her advice. I do not like, Mamma, said she, to take my work-bag with me, because I think it will mortify poor _Fanny_ so, and look as if I wanted to show I was more careful than she; and yet I am afraid of appearing uncivil to Mrs. _Grant_, who desired me to bring it.

_Lydia_ received her Mamma’s tenderest caresses, and commendations, for her sentiment and generosity; you judge with great propriety and delicacy, my dear, as to not taking the work-bag; and Mrs. _Grant_, who must know the history of poor _Fanny_’s, will easily guess your reason for leaving yours at home, and will honour you for it; and _Fanny_, when she knows how kind and considerate you are, must love you dearly. The coach was soon after at the door, and Miss _Lydia_, her Mamma, one of her sisters, and _Fanny_ got in.

Poor _Fanny_ was that day an instance how one giddy or thoughtless thing may entirely destroy a person’s pleasure. She had been expecting the day they were to go to Mrs. _Grant_’s with great impatience and delight; but her unfortunate carelessness had so altered her feelings, that she dreaded the thought of going, and would very gladly have been left behind. She was very grave all the way, though _Lydia_ tried all she could to amuse her, by pointing out to her the flowers in the hedges, the birds in the trees, and the carriages as they passed, Mrs. _Grant_ was very happy to see them all, and especially the two young ones. She observed them, however, a little, to see if they had brought their work-bags.

The young ladies, as they were seating themselves, observed upon a table, at the farther end of the room, two very little cradles with dolls in them; they thought it probable they were intended as a present for them; and this thought increased poor Miss _Fanny_’s distress and confusion: to receive another present when she had been so careless of the former, hurt every generous principle within her; after some little time, Mrs. _Grant_ asked Miss _Lydia_ if she had done her tucker? _Lydia_ answered very modestly and prettily, Yes, Madam.

And why did you not then bring it to show me? I dare say it is very nicely done; and I had pleased myself much with the thoughts of seeing both your works: is yours finished too, Miss _Fanny_? Poor _Fanny_ could hold out no longer, but burst into tears. Her aunt was so good as to explain to Mrs. _Grant_ the cause of her grief, and tell how very sorry she had been: she likewise informed her of _Lydia_’s delicacy in not chusing to make a parade of her work-bag, which was, however, very safe at home.

You are a sweet girl, said Mrs. _Grant_, and will, I dare say, make an excellent nurse; she then fetched the two cradles; they are both of white sattin, the one had fine worked muslin curtains tied with blue, and a muslin dimity quilt fringe; and in it lay a little doll dressed like a little boy in a muslin robe, with a laced rose to his cap, and a blue sash. The other cradle had pink Persian curtains tied with white ribbon, and a white sattin quilt bound with pink ribbon; this contained a little girl in a muslin robe likewise, with a pink ribbon round her cap, and a pink sash round her waist. The goodness of your behaviour, said Mrs. _Grant_, I think entitles you to the privilege of chusing first; take which you like: Miss _Fanny_ will accept the other; and I dare say she will not let the puppy come into her nursery.

Miss _Lydia_ begged leave to let Miss _Fanny_ chuse first, and pressed her much to say which she liked best; but she constantly refused; till after this friendly contest had lasted some little time, Miss _Lydia_’s Mamma told her, it would be better for her to make a choice, as Miss _Fanny_ could not be persuaded to determine.

The dear girl had pitied _Fanny_, and wished that she should be pleased about the doll; and as she knew that she very much preferred the little boy herself, she naturally thought that _Fanny_ would do so too, and, therefore, left it for her, and took the little girl. _Fanny_ then took the boy, and promised to guard it from puppies, and all other mischances.

I thought, said the elder Miss _Lively_, you were wishing but the other day for a little boy doll. I expected you would have chosen that?

_Lydia_ said nothing. But Mrs. _Grant_, who guessed her reason, asked _Fanny_ which she really thought the prettiest? _Fanny_ thus called upon, said, they were both pretty; but she thought the little girl the prettiest. Then pray take it, said _Lydia_; for Indeed I left the boy because I thought you would like it best. And I, said _Fanny_, did not like to say any thing, because I thought my cousin liked the little girl best.

You are both charming girls, said Mrs. _Grant_, but I suppose, if you change, each will have exactly what she wishes. The exchange was made, and afterward the young ladies spent their time till dinner in nursing their children, and putting them into and taking them out of the cradle.

Miss _Lydia_ had now quite left off whining and frowning, and was grown a very agreeable play-fellow and companion; and as she and _Fanny_ amused themselves, without any noise or bustle, it was a pleasure to see them in the room. During the whole time they staid, they behaved in the most pleasing manner; and Mrs. _Grant_ did every thing in her power to make the visit agreeable to them. After passing a very cheerful day, they returned home, and Miss _Lydia_ had the pleasure of seeing her little friend in much better spirits than when she set out.

CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH.

_THE BASKET OVERTURNED._

One day, as Miss _Lydia_ was walking in the fields with her Mamma, her sisters, and _Fanny_, she saw a little girl standing near the hedge, and crying very sadly. The voice of distress was never heard without attention by Miss _Lydia_; she ran up to the girl, followed by _Fanny_, and asked her what was the matter?

GIRL.

Oh! dear, what shall I do! my eggs are almost all broken! and my mother will be so angry, I am afraid to go home!

LYDIA.

Do not cry, I dare say your mother will not be very angry: my Mamma would not, I am sure.

GIRL (_still sobbing_.)

Yes, Miss; but my mother will, and beat me severely too. I was to have sold them for a shilling, and carried back some butter and a loaf.

LYDIA.

I dare say you did not break them on purpose: how did it happen?

GIRL.

My mother put two dozen of eggs into this little basket, and wrapped them nicely up in straw, and bade me go directly to town with them, and not stop at all. She told me I must sell them for a shilling, and bring back a loaf and some butter. I walked straight on till I came to this field, and then the blackberries looked so nice in the hedge, that I longed to get some; and I thought there could be no harm in stepping to the hedge and gathering a few. I set my basket down because I wanted to reach a very fine bough that grew in the back part of the hedge; but while I was plucking the fruit, a great over-grown dog came and ran his nose into my basket, overturned all the eggs, and broke a dozen of them; and now I cannot buy the bread and the butter. My mother wants them for her tea, and I do not know what she will do to me.

Mrs. _Lively_ and _Lydia_’s elder sisters had now walked up to them, and Mrs. _Lively_ having overheard the girl’s discourse, said, I am sorry to see you in such trouble; but you now find the consequence of not minding your mother. Little girls are apt to think they know as well as their parents; but they generally find themselves mistaken, and sometimes get into a great deal of distress by fancying so; as you have done. Your mother bade you go directly to town and stop nowhere, because she knew if you got to play, or gave your attention to any thing but your eggs, a great many accidents might happen to break them; and if you had done as she bade you, it is probable your eggs would have been safe. Your mother, therefore, will have great reason to be angry, when she knows how the accident happened.

GIRL.

Yes, Madam, that is what will make her so angry; she would have forgiven me a great deal sooner if it had happened any other way. A boy, who came by just now, advised me to say, as I was getting over a stile the bar gave way, and I tumbled down, and that so my eggs got broken; but I never did tell her a lie in my life, and I should be very unwilling to begin now.

LADY.

Your mother has at least been very kind to you in instilling such good principles into you.

GIRL.

Yes, Madam, she always taught me to be honest, and never tell a lie upon any account whatever; and if she were to find out that I deceived her, she would punish me ten times more than she will now.

LADY.

Be assured you can never escape trouble and sorrow by being wicked; you have already done one fault, and you feel how unhappy it has made you; but, if you were to tell a lie, you would become a great deal more naughty, and consequently be a great deal more unhappy. And though you were not found out, I dare say your mother has taught you that God always sees you; and if you try to save yourself by wicked means, you put yourself quite out of the way of his blessing and protection. Now, you are so good a girl, I dare say you will find your mother kinder to you than you expect. Dry up your tears, and take this shilling; give me the eggs that remain, go and buy your butter and bread, and then your mother will not be disappointed; and as you are so good a girl, whenever your mother has any eggs or chickens, you may bring them to me, and I will give you your price for them; only remember to call at the first white house as you come into town.

The poor girl received the shilling with equal joy and gratitude; and when she was gone, Miss _Lydia_’s Mamma observed to her, that persons often find a present reward in doing their duty: If this little girl, said she, had taken the boy’s advice, and determined to tell her mother a falsity, she would probably have turned back directly, and been in another field when we came here, so that we should have known nothing of her distress, and her story would, perhaps, not have been so well told as to escape detection. I hope now the amends I have made for her loss will abate the severity of her mother’s anger; and when the whole of her conduct is known, she must, I think, receive her praises.

Just as she had done speaking, a beautiful insect flew by Miss _Lydia_. Look, Mamma, said she, that fly is just like the picture in my book; is it not? We will look, my dear, said her Mamma: and taking out of her pocket the _Rational Dame_, she found the little creature under the title of Dragon Fly; and little _Lydia_ read the description of it, and had afterwards a full opportunity of admiring it, as it rested upon a leaf.

I am sure, said _Lydia_, I am much obliged to Mrs. _Teachwell_ for writing so useful a book; it has taught me a great many things. And me likewise, said her Mamma; we will never walk out without it; for the best use we can make of our walks, is to acquaint ourselves with the works of God; which in the fields and lanes are continually before us. And I wish Mrs. _Teachwell_ would give us some little system of plants, with their nature and uses, fit for such young folk as you; for I again say, you cannot be too well acquainted with the works of God, who made you, and made the little insects, and the slender flower which your eye almost overlooks. God, my child, has spread before you two volumes, which are each his work, and demand and deserve your most attentive consideration, and most curious study; the _Book of Revelation_—I mean the _Bible_, wherein you learn the way to eternal life; and the _Book of Nature_, which is every where spread open before you, and which instructs you every where in the wisdom and goodness of God. Let no opportunity slip then of acquainting yourself with those wonders; and the more you learn of “What great things God has done for you;” may your heart feel more grateful to Him, and more ready to obey Him, and to do every thing He commands.

CHAPTER THE TWELFTH.

_THE BIRTH-DAY._

Miss _Lydia_ had several brothers as well as sisters, a good deal older than herself; among the rest was _Gilbert_, a boy, who from the goodness of his disposition, seemed formed to make his parents happy. Obliging to all, he was particularly indulgent and kind to little _Lydia_. One day, in the autumn, he joined a family party in the garden, and seeing some fine alpine strawberries in a little garden which the elder ones had given to _Lydia_, he asked her if he might gather some? No, pray brother, do not gather them now, said _Lydia_; for I keep them to treat you all with to-morrow upon my birth-day. Is to-morrow your birth-day, little girl? replied he; then, as to-day is a half-holiday, I will go a fishing, and try if I cannot get you a dish of fish for your dinner. I shall set off directly: and pray, Mamma, do not mind whether I return to dinner, for I do not care about that. Go then, said Mamma; and I will contribute some tarts and a cake, as my share of the entertainment.

_Gilbert_ took his rod and his implements, and away he went. At dinner he was not much expected; but in the evening his Mamma began to grow uneasy, and was going to send a servant after him. However, just as she was speaking to the servant, _Gilbert_ came in much tired, but without any fish.

I am sorry, _Lydia_, said he, not to have any fish to offer you; but I think when you know how it happened, you will not be displeased with me. I had, said he, no success at all till evening; the fish then began to bite, and I caught two very fine trout. I was coming home mightily delighted with my prize; but before I had walked a quarter of a mile, I heard the sound of somebody crying on the other side of the hedge, and heard a voice say, Now your brothers and sisters must go to-bed without their suppers; and poor things, I left them only a halfpenny roll in the morning; and we had nothing, you know, but a few turnips yesterday.

The hedge was so thick I could not see who was speaking, till we came to a stile, and then I saw the poor boy (who comes to the door sometimes with fish) and his mother get over into the lane. I asked her, what was the matter? and she told me, she had been about five miles to buy fish; that she had almost starved herself and her children to save up two shillings for the purpose, in hope of getting a little profit by it; she had staid all day, and could not get any; and she and her son were returning home. She had a hole in her pocket, and, therefore, had given the shillings to the boy; and as they were going through a close lane, she unguardedly said to her son, _Bob_, are your two shillings safe? Just at that moment a great, big man jumped over the hedge, and catching hold of the boy, said, Are you quite sure they are safe? let me take care of them for you; and then ran his hand into his pocket, and took away the two shillings: and now, said she, I have nothing to give to the children! I intended to have bought a six-penny loaf, when I got home, for this boy and I have tasted nothing to-day; and I should have tried to get some fish to-morrow with the remaining eighteen-pence. She cried so, added _Gilbert_, that I was ready to cry too. I had no money to give her. I had nothing but my fish; and I asked her, how much she could sell them for? O! dear Sir! said she, they are very fine fish! I dare say they would fetch a shilling or eighteen-pence a piece. And do you think you could sell them to-night if you had them? said I. She said, she did not doubt that she could sell them; but should not think of taking my fish: however, I begged her to take them; and if it had not been so late, I would have gone back and tried to get you some more, _Lydia_; but I will get up very early in the morning and go. Indeed, brother, said _Lydia_, I beg you will not think of it; for if there are such bad men about they may rob you too.

_Gilbert_, I believe, said Mamma, does not read _Horace_ yet, or he might tell you that,

“Blythe sings the traveller with empty purse,
And in the robber’s sight pursues his course.”

But though it is certain that, if he has nothing he cannot be robbed, he may be uncivilly used, and, therefore, I would advise him not to go; we can, I dare say, procure fish without giving him any further trouble; but I thought you had a shilling this morning, _Gilbert_; what have you done with it?

GILBERT.

Pray, Mamma, do not ask me; it is a secret at present.

MAMMA.

Then I never desire to know secrets; and you, I am persuaded, will do nothing wrong; and as I have no anxiety upon that account, I should be ashamed, if mere curiosity made me desirous to know what you wish to conceal. Nothing, I think, is so contemptible as that sort of curiosity, which makes people want to know what every one says and does, and which grows more impatient in proportion as we think the person wishes us not to know.

GILBERT.

Nay, Mamma, I have no real secrets from you, only I wish nobody to know just now—

MAMMA.

I am quite satisfied, my dear boy.

LYDIA.

I have a little secret, Mamma; my sister told me you would not be angry, and nobody knows but her:—do not tell yet, _Kitty_.

MAMMA.

I dare say she will not, my love; and if she were going I would not let her. You heard me say, I never desire to know secrets. I think no wise person would; but I should be very sorry any body belonging to me should not be able to keep a secret, if they were intrusted with one. But I will tell you something that is no secret; which is, that your long walk has tired you; and that you look very sleepy; therefore, I advise you to go to-bed.

_Gilbert_ waked soon in the morning; and as the sun shone very bright, and it was a delightful morning, he longed to take his fishing-rod once more; but his Mamma having desired him not, he did not attempt it; but before he went to school he went with his violin to _Lydia_’s door, and waked her with a very cheerful tune, wished her many happy birth-days, and then went away. _Lydia_ arose as soon as the maid came into her room, and went to receive a kiss from her Mamma; she then walked down stairs, and the first thing she saw at the hall door was her little lamb, with a new blue ribbon round his neck, and shaking some little round bells that were fastened to it. Away she flew first to her Mamma, then to her sisters, to ask who had made her lamb so fine? but they could not give her any information; every body in the house was asked to no purpose. After a little while, I think, said Mamma—I guess! I guess too, cried out little _Lydia_, it must be _Gilbert_; you know he said he had a secret; that is it depend upon it: how kind it was of him! how dearly I do love _Gilbert_! Every body must love him dearly, said his Mamma. I wish, said _Lydia_, I knew how to make him some return. I wish I could do any thing to please him.—Your wish is natural and amiable; but be satisfied, that _Gilbert_ finds in the performance of such acts of good-nature and kindness, a higher reward than any we could give him; believe me there is a delight in being kind, and affectionate, and generous, that is beyond any pleasure that relates merely to a person’s own self; and if the most ill-tempered and selfish person in the world would but determine for one month to say nothing but what was kind; and to be always doing obliging and liberal things, he would find himself so much more comfortable, so much better, not only in mind but in health; and so much more easy and satisfied with himself, that mere self-love would make him continue such a conduct.

LYDIA.

I am delighted even with seeing my little lamb happy, when I feed and caress him. I think it is a great pleasure to have the power of making any thing happy.

MAMMA.

Cherish, my dearest child, this disposition, and these feelings; and if you should ever meet with unkindness from others, do not let that incline you to be less kind and good. Bear always in your mind the text I once taught you, “Be not overcome of evil; but overcome evil with good.” And if you see persons by their ill-temper offend God, and vex every body they are connected with, instead of making their bad behaviour an excuse for your own, think what a sad thing it would be if you, seeing the disagreeableness of their behaviour, were to become like them; and on the contrary, think what an honour it will be to you, if, by your example, by seeing you always patient, and kind, and disinterested, others leave off disputes and selfishness, and grow good.

LYDIA.

Here comes the dear _Gilbert_.

MAMMA.

Here he comes; and I am sure you both feel far more joy than the mere spending of a shilling could have given you; and the older you grow the more I trust you will know and understand of that kind of joy.

CHAPTER THE THIRTEENTH.

_THE SECRET EXPLAINED._

While Miss _Lydia_ was at work with her Mamma, a servant came in, and said, a little girl and boy at the gate asked for Miss _Lydia_. _Lydia_ coloured; and upon her Mamma’s asking who they were? said, with great eagerness, It is little _Sally_ and her brother, Madam: may I go down to them? Pray let me go by myself? You shall see the little girl before she goes home.

Mamma’s consent was soon obtained, and _Lydia_, having first stepped into her room, and hastily taken a little bundle out of the drawer, flew down stairs.

When she got to the gate, she saw _Sally_ holding a pretty little basket made of rushes, with little tufts of silk at the four corners, and covered at top with green leaves.

As soon as _Sally_ saw Miss _Lydia_, she presented the basket to her, and told her, that the maid, who had bidden her to come to the house this morning, told her it was Miss _Lydia_’s birth-day; and she had made that basket, and taken the liberty to bring it to her.

It is a very pretty basket, indeed, said Miss _Lydia_; and lifting up the leaves on the top, she saw the basket was almost full of little cakes and lozenges, and on them Sally had put some bunches of services.

LYDIA.

Where did you get all these things, _Sally_? I will not take them from you.

SALLY.

Yes, pray do Miss, I brought them on purpose for you. My mother makes the cakes and the lozenges herself, and sells them; and my brother and I were out all yesterday afternoon to look for services on the hedges; and then I made the basket and put them into it; and I shall be very sorry if you will not accept of it.

LYDIA.

You made that pretty basket, _Sally_! I wish you would teach me to make such nice baskets.

SALLY.

That I will with great pleasure, Miss, if your Mamma likes it.

LYDIA.

I am much obliged to you for your nice present. I have something for you, _Sally_; and that is the reason why I sent for you to come to-day. So saying, _Lydia_ opened the band-box, and took out a new straw hat, with a nice green ribbon round the crown, and one small neat bow behind, and green strings to tie it. _Lydia_ desired the little girl to pull off her own hat, and then sit down and let her put this on: nor had _Sally_ more delight in being thus dressed, than _Lydia_ had in dressing her.

_Lydia_ then went again to her box, and took out a very pretty cotton frock, which she put on the little boy, with more pleasure than she had ever dressed a doll; though the little fellow was not quite so quiet as a doll, but was moving and twisting about to see as much as possible of the flowers upon his frock.

When their things were adjusted, Miss _Lydia_ led them to the door, and desired her Mamma to step down.

Mamma, said she, I told you I had a secret; this is it. I read in the _Children’s Friend_, that people should do some good-action on their birth-day. Do you like _Sally_’s hat, Mamma?

MAMMA.

Yes, my dear, it is very neat indeed: but where did you get these things? you could not buy them yourself.

LYDIA.

No, Mamma, my sister was so good as to get the hat and the ribbon for me when she went to school, and to put the ribbon on for me. I have been saving up my money a great while. Do not you remember I would not buy a basket when the others did? and look now what a pretty basket _Sally_ has brought me! a great deal prettier than that at the door. Still I should not have had money enough if my aunt had not happened to give me a shilling the other day.

MAMMA.

But where did you get the frock?

LYDIA.

Do not you remember the piece of cotton Miss _Friend_ gave me to make my great doll a gown? My sister said, there was enough to make the little boy a frock, and she was so good as to cut it out and fit it for me, and I made it up myself.

MAMMA.

It is very nicely made, I am sure; and you, my love, are a proof of what I was saying just now, of the pleasure there is in doing kind actions; you appear so cheerful and satisfied. I am sure you never had half so much enjoyment of a new hat for yourself or a fine doll.

LYDIA.

Because the little boy and girl look so happy; and there is so much pleasure in seeing people happy.

MAMMA.

Blessed indeed are those whose countenances, like a mirror, reflect the brightness which shines in the face of their neighbour: or, to speak more plainly, my little dear, blessed both of God and man are those who are cheerful and happy, because they see another person glad; “Who rejoice with them that do rejoice.” But, my dear, your little friends, I dare say, are impatient to show the presents to their mother: you had better dismiss them.

_Lydia_, who had now learned to mind her Mamma the moment she spoke, thanked _Sally_ for her pretty basket, and told her she must come one day and teach her to make such; and then desired them to go home.

_Sally_ made a dozen courtesies, and the little boy as many bows; and thanked her again and again as they went away.

Miss _Lydia_ then put away her basket with cakes, saying, that should make part of the feast in the afternoon.

A half holiday had been procured for _Gilbert_, so that he joined the cheerful circle at dinner; and in the afternoon some young folk were expected to tea.

Miss _Lydia_, therefore, was abundantly busy in setting out cakes, fruit, &c. amidst which _Sally_’s little basket was introduced, and was to _Lydia_ the most agreeable part of the entertainment, as it was connected with the remembrance of a benevolent action. As she was not big enough to cut the large cake which her Mamma had provided, one of her brother’s very obligingly cut some slices for her, which she offered to the company with great politeness and propriety.

Just before tea, a servant brought in a little box, and delivered it to Miss _Lydia_; she looked, and saw it directed to her, and very eagerly set about opening it; this was very easily effected, as the nails were not driven very tight; and on lifting up the lid, the first thing she saw was hay, that being removed, she found a complete set of doll’s tea-china, a tea board, an urn, a tea-chest, a waiter, a pair of tea-tongs, and half a dozen spoons; with a little note to tell her, that these were the joint presents of her elder brothers and sisters.

Here was a fresh scene of pleasure to the sweet girl: her presents were shown to every body; were admired; and her delight expressed in the warmest manner, yet not so as to importune or disturb any body by her joy.

The tea-chest was then filled with tea, the sugar-bason with sugar, the urn with water, and Miss _Lydia_ made tea in a very composed and becoming manner. The evening was passed in cheerful and inoffensive amusement, where the chief contest was, who should please and oblige the other most.

CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH.

_THE AGREEABLE TOUR._

When Miss _Fanny_ had been two months with her aunt, her Mamma returned from her journey, and came to fetch her.

Not only Miss _Fanny_, but the rest of the family, were rejoiced to see her: the young persons asked her many questions; whither she had been? and what she had seen?

She was ready to answer all their inquiries with great good-humour; and taking out a book of pocket-maps, said, I will show you the route I have been. We set out, you know, from _Berkshire_. We went through _Oxfordshire_, stopped at _Oxford_, and there, Miss _Lydia_, saw your brother, who shewed us the university, and entertained us with great politeness.

We likewise passed through _Woodstock_; and I have brought each of you a pair of gloves; a manufacture for which you know _Woodstock_ is famous.

We then proceeded through _Warwickshire_, _Staffordshire_, _Cheshire_, _Lancashire_, _Westmoreland_, _Cumberland_, and _Northumberland_, where Fanny, your father’s business was.

As we returned, we came by _Durham_, _Yorkshire_, _Derbyshire_, _Lincolnshire_, _Huntingdonshire_, and _Hertfordshire_.

I have brought my little niece and _Fanny_ a set of doll’s plates and dishes, from _Staffordshire_, and a piece of muslin dimity, for gowns for my elder cousins, from _Manchester_, in _Lancashire_; where we stopped a whole day, to see the very great manufacture that is carrying on there, of cottons, dimities, muslins, &c.

While we were in _Lancashire_, we went to _Ancliff_ near _Wigan_, to see the famous burning well.

The water of this well is cold, and has no smell, yet there is so strong a vapour of sulphur issuing out with the stream, that upon applying a light to it, the top of the water is covered with a flame, like that of burning spirits, which lasts several hours, and emits so fierce a heat, that meat may be boiled over it. The fluid itself will not burn when taken out of the well.

In _Cumberland_ we saw the black-lead mine, from whence your pencils, young gentlemen, are furnished, which have assisted you in adorning my dressing-room with such handsome drawings.

While we staid in _Northumberland_, we went to see the coal-pits, from whence we who live in the southern countries are supplied: the cargoes are shipped from _Newcastle upon Tyne_, which is also famous for its fishery of Salmon.

The young gentlemen, I hope, will accept of a pair of shoe-buckles from _Birmingham_, in _Warwickshire_, and the ladies of a pair of scissors from _Sheffield_, in _Yorkshire_; both places are famous for the manufacture of hard-ware.

While we were in _Derbyshire_, we went to see the dropping-well near _Buxton_: which gives the appearance of stone to every thing that is put into it; and I have brought you some petrifactions from thence.

One day we spent at _Buxton_, and saw the company who go to drink the medicinal waters there.

We likewise went to see _Poole’s Hole_, by _Buxton_; but of that you will find a better account than I can give you in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_, written by a gentleman who went with a party to visit it.

I have brought your Mamma, Miss _Lydia_, some ornaments for her mantle-piece, made of Derbyshire spar; and an egg of that substance for your sister _Caroline_’s netting: the spar is said to be water petrified as it drops through rocks, and to take the variety of its colours from the different metals or minerals it passes through.

I have likewise brought a carpet for your papa’s study, from _Kidderminster_, in _Worcestershire_, which, I think, he will not esteem inferior to the Turkey carpets, which we fetch from so far.

From _Dunstable_ in _Bedfordshire_ I have brought a set of little tea-things, some work-baskets, and some toys for the young folk, all made of straw, like your hat, Miss _Lydia_. And now, perhaps, I have tired you by talking, and you will be better pleased with seeing all my collection.

The young people listened with great attention to the lady. Soon after she produced her treasures, and desired them to recollect the place from whence each came.

They acquitted themselves very well, and were not deficient in proper thanks to their aunt, for her kind attention to them.

A day or two afterwards Miss _Fanny_ and her Mamma took their leave; not without mutual regret on the part of Miss _Lydia_ and Miss _Fanny_, who were most affectionately attached to each other.

CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH.

_GENEROSITY AND GRATITUDE._

Sometime after Miss _Lydia_’s cousin _Fanny_ had left her, little _Lydia_, on her return from a walk with the maid, ran, all in tears, into her Mamma’s room; and told her, that little _Sally_’s mother was in very great distress.

LYDIA.

She owes, Mamma, four guineas to Mr. _Flint_ for living in his house; and because she has not money to pay him, he is going to take every thing she has, and turn her into the street. The poor woman and children were crying so sadly when I went by the door, that it made me quite uncomfortable, as Miss _Seymour_ says, to see them.

The poor woman said, she and her children must go into the workhouse. The little girl was crying to see her mother cry; and the boy said, they would take away his rabbit, and his little chair in which he used to sit by the fire-side. Do, pray, Mamma, do something for the poor woman. Perhaps, if you speak to Mr. _Flint_ he will not take her things.

MAMMA.

My dear love, I know Mr. _Flint_ better than you do: it is not possible to persuade him to forego his money; and as to assisting her with four guineas, it is more than I can well spare; besides, you know there are many people in distress as well as she.

LYDIA.

Perhaps so: but I have seen this poor woman and the children cry so! and the little ones have been so civil to me!

MAMMA.

I am sincerely sorry for them.—Why do you look so earnestly at me, _Lydia_?—Have you any money at all?

LYDIA.

No, Mamma; I have no money; but you know, Mamma, you were going to buy me a pink silk slip, to wear under my muslin frock. What would that have cost?—I can do very well with my dimity ones.

MAMMA.

My dearest girl! come to my arms, and enjoy a pleasure you so richly deserve! that of making the poor people happy. Your slip would not have cost two guineas, so that sacrifice alone would not do; but you have set me a noble example; and I will also give up a carpet which I intended to buy for my dressing-room; and the price of that added to the other, will be sufficient to redeem Mrs. _Brush_’s goods, and set her mind at ease.

LYDIA.

My dear Mamma! I am so glad! Then I may go directly with the money?

MAMMA.

We will go together. You would be at a loss by yourself. Go, pray, and ask for my great-coat and my gloves.

_Lydia_ flew like lightening; and her Mamma being soon equipped, they hastened to Mrs. _Brush_.

The first thing they saw, was all her little scholars turned out of the room, and in a heap before the door crying.

When they went in, they found every thing pulled out of its place: a rough looking man had dragged her bedstead down stairs; and the little boy stood with his eyes fixed upon him, and sobbing said, What must mammy and I do for a bed? I am sure Mr. _Flint_ does not want this: he has got a great many fine beds.

Upon being asked where his mammy was? he said in the garden. As they were passing through to go to her, they saw another man just going to pull her little copper down. Miss _Lydia_’s Mamma begged he would desist a little while, and he should not be a loser by it. She then went on; at the further end of the garden they saw the little girl and her mother in an arbour, which they had taken great pains to adorn with roses and honeysuckles; and in which they were now sitting, as they supposed, for the last time: they were weeping bitterly. The little girl’s eyes were fixed on the parrot, which hung on a tree near them, and which seemed to take part with them, by crying every minute, Poor Poll! What’s the matter?

The Lady and her daughter went on towards them; but as they were walking a young woman entered the garden hastily, and rushing by them, ran up to the woman, and catching hold of her arm, with great affection said, Thank God, cousin! I am come just in time! As soon as ever I heard you were in trouble, I left my place; and what with my wages, and the money I have raised upon my cloaths, I have been able to bring you enough to pay your rent. Take the four guineas, and let us get these frightful people out of the house.

The good woman looked very much amazed, and was silent for a moment; then again bursting into tears; God forbid, my dear _Jenny_! said she, that I should strip you. No, I can bear my own troubles; but I could never support the thought, that I had taken your bread out of your mouth. How could you think of leaving your place? so good a one as you had: and what have you done with your cloaths? I never thought I should be the occasion of doing you so much harm.

While these two friends were talking thus, the Lady and her daughter came up to them. The unfortunate woman, in the midst of her trouble, did not neglect to pay them proper respect: the young person stopped to make them a courtesy, and then earnestly went on. Never think about me, I am young, and can get my living; and after all you have done for me, I should be the most ungrateful creature in the world did I not assist you. If it had not been for you, I should not have been alive now; or, if I had, I should have been in a workhouse. When I was ill with that fever, you nursed me, laid me in your own bed, and sat up with me yourself, to tend me; and then paid my doctor’s bill, that I might not be obliged to sell my cloaths: and have not you the best right to them?

I a right! no, indeed said her cousin.

Surely you have, returned she: the money you spent upon me would have paid almost two years rent; and now you who lived so neatly, and so comfortably, are going to be pulled all to pieces. You will break my heart if you do not take the money: but why should I stand arguing with you, when I can go and pay the money myself. So saying, she was hastening out of the garden; when Miss _Lydia_’s Mamma catching hold of her, said, I was unwilling to interrupt so generous a dispute, and I waited a little to see what would be the end of it: but as to the rent, my daughter and I came on purpose to discharge it. Receive from my daughter (Mrs. _Brush_) four guineas, which we were going to spend otherwise; but upon nothing that would have given us half the pleasure which we feel in putting you in possession of your house again. As to you, young woman, your conduct is above all reward from man; and yet I wish—

It was impossible for the Lady to go on; the joy and gratitude of these worthy people quite overpowered her; and the only way she could get rid of their thanks, was by hurrying them into the house, to secure all the goods.

When the rent was discharged, and the men sent away, Mrs. _Brush_ and her cousin were able to converse more composedly with their benefactors. The former, in the midst of her joy, expressed great concern that her cousin had thrown herself out of place; and asked, with great anxiety, what she had done with her cloaths?

The young woman said, she could not rest a moment, after she heard from an acquaintance, who called upon her, that her landlord was very cruel to her; and that she expected every day to have her goods seized for rent. That she, therefore, went directly to her mistress, and told her, that a relation in the country wanted her very much, and begged to be discharged.

She would not tell her the whole story for fear she should oppose her intentions; and as to asking leave to go out for a time, she could not expect to return to her place, when she had disposed of all her cloaths.

Her mistress appeared displeased; but paid her her wages, which was about a guinea: that she then sold some of her cloaths, and pawned the rest to raise the remainder, and as much as would pay her passage from _London_; however, as to her cloaths, she said, she had not a doubt but she could get them again; for the woman who took them was a very good sort of woman, and indeed could hardly be persuaded to receive them of her.

And do you think, Mrs. _Jenny_, said the Lady, your mistress could not be prevailed on to take you again? Surely, if she knew the whole truth, she would think herself happy in such a servant.

It is not probable she should have got another in so short a time. You shall return as soon as you can; and I will send a letter by you to the lady you have left, to inform her from what generous motives you left her so abruptly. I will take my leave of you both now; and in an hour’s time the letter shall be ready.

The young woman called at the time mentioned for the letter; and after many expressions of gratitude for the kindness shown to her cousin and herself, returned to _London_, carried it to her late mistress, and in a few days, Miss _Lydia_ had the pleasure of knowing, that her Mamma had received a letter from the lady, to thank her for restoring so valuable a servant to her, and to inform her, that as her own maid was going to be married, she meant to take her to wait upon herself; and should ever esteem a person capable of such noble conduct, rather as a friend than a servant.

_CONCLUSION._

Miss _Lydia_, when her Mamma first began to write down an account of her behaviour throughout the day, was so much alarmed, lest the story should not be to her credit, that she never went to sleep, without endeavouring to recollect how she had passed the day, and whether she had been good or not. When her conscience told her of any fault, her concern for it naturally led her to consider how she might have avoided that fault, and how she ought to have behaved. In the morning, likewise, when she awoke, the journal was the first thing that came into her mind; and she used to think what business she had to do that day, and what faults she was in the most danger of committing; particularly if she had done any thing wrong the day before, she always considered how she should conduct herself so as not to have the same sad story told of her again.

Her Mamma, when she found those faults thoroughly corrected, which were her first motive for writing an account of her daughter’s conduct, discontinued her journal; but _Lydia_ had so accustomed herself to the above mentioned inquiry, that she still continued so excellent a practice; and nothing so much assisted her, in her wish to be good, as this habit; for by such a frequent review of her behaviour, she discovered many little faults, which she would not otherwise have noticed; and by correcting them in the beginning, she escaped falling into many vices and bad habits, which, though very easily checked at first, become, after they are long indulged, very difficult to break. I very affectionately recommend this practice to any young persons who desire in earnest to be good: and if the little anecdotes I have written shall persuade any one little boy or girl to correct their faults, and become more happy in themselves, and a greater comfort to their parents, I shall be abundantly recompensed for my trouble.

THE END.