A Week of Instruction and Amusement Part 1

A Week of Instruction and Amus.e.m.e.nt.

by Mrs. Harley.

_CHAPTER I._

THURSDAY.

At a pleasant village a few miles from London, resided a widow-lady of the name of Harley; she had but one child, and to forming her manners and instructing her mind she devoted her whole time. Anne (for so was this little girl named) was an amiable child; she rewarded her mother's care and affection, by paying great attention to her instructions; like all other children, she was fond of play, but seldom murmured when called to attend the hours set apart for working, reading, or learning her lessons: all these she performed extremely well for her age, and had already gone through many of the first books that are put into the hands of children.

As a reward for her application, her mamma had promised to write a few stories on purpose for her, and one Thursday in the month of August, the day on which little Anne completed her eighth year, Mrs. Harley presented her the book which contained them, saying, "I shall only permit you to read in this book, my dear Anne, when I have reason to be satisfied with your conduct, for as it is now given to a good little girl, I would never upon any account, allow a naughty one to make use of it. We will begin our mornings with reading one of these stories, and afterwards I will give you a lesson upon different subjects, many of which you are now quite unacquainted with. By pursuing this method you will be daily adding to your stock of knowledge, and will I hope in time become a good and sensible girl: this, my dear, is the first wish of my heart, and you must do every thing in your power to promote it. Be industrious and docile, and you may be sure of succeeding in all I require you to undertake. But come, the morning is so fine that we will go into the garden, where upon yonder seat you shall begin your new study."

Little Anne after thanking her mamma for her kind present, followed her to the bench, when they were seated, she opened the book, and the first story that presented itself was

_The pleasure of giving, much greater than that of receiving._

Edward and James were the sons of a respectable farmer, who spared no pains in giving them an education suited to their situation in life.

Having been pleased with their good conduct in some circ.u.mstances that had lately occurred, he promised them a holiday the first time the weather should be fine enough for them to visit their aunt, who lived a few miles distant from the village where they resided. The wished for morning at length arrived, the farmer gave each of his sons a s.h.i.+lling, and a basket filled with provisions. Thus equipped, they began their journey, and amused themselves on the road, by talking of the pleasure they should have in seeing their good aunt. The best way of spending their s.h.i.+llings was a subject of great importance, "I will have a handsome kite," said Edward, "and the string shall be long enough to allow it to fly as high as the clouds." "Yes," answered James, "but however long your string may be, I believe it must depend upon the wind for flying. Now, I will have a bag of marbles, with these I can always play on the stones in the church-yard after school." "Excepting when it rains brother James; however, as the money is our own, we have each you know a right to please ourselves."

Just as Edward finished speaking, a poor little ragged boy came up to the brothers, and asked for a halfpenny to buy a bit of bread, saying he was so very hungry he knew not what to do. "What, have you had no breakfast! my little man?" asked James. "No, sir, nor supper last night, do pray give me a halfpenny, I am so very faint for want of food."

Edward immediately took a piece of cake from his basket and gave it to the boy, enquiring at the same time, where his father and mother was.

"Alas, my good young gentleman, they are both dead. I lost father about a month ago, and I fear I shall soon follow him, for indeed I am very ill, and not able to work, therefore I must be starved." "O no," said James, "not if I can prevent it, you do indeed look very ill, but take courage, I hope you will soon recover, and surely the parish must provide for you--where do you live?"

"Since father died I have had no regular home, and this is not my parish. Sometimes I sleep in a barn. I do what I can to a.s.sist an old man, who was my mother's uncle, but he is ill now, and not able to keep me, so I shall be quite deserted."--"Well," said Edward, "I will provide you with a dinner to day, and give you money to procure a lodging at night; here is a s.h.i.+lling, my father gave it me to buy toys with, but I can do better without them, than you can without food." The little boy took the s.h.i.+lling, and with tears in his eyes thanked his kind friend.

James would not suffer him to depart without accepting his s.h.i.+lling also, and desiring him to call the next morning at their father's, where they would try to be of further use to him, they bade him adieu, and pursued their journey.

"I am sure," said Edward, "I feel more pleasure in making that child happy, than in flying the finest kite in the world." "And I," added James, "was a hundred times happier in giving him a s.h.i.+lling, than I was when I received it this morning. Only think how rejoiced the poor boy must be, to have so much money; I dare say he never before, possessed so large a sum, but Edward, we shall have no new kite nor marbles now!--Never mind, brother, we have done a good action, and that, you know, our father says is the surest way to secure happiness"--

Thus conversing, these good lads arrived at their aunt's, where they spent a very pleasant day, and in the evening returned home, to delight their father's heart, with an account of their morning's adventure.--The poor boy came the next morning to the farmer's, who having made the necessary enquiries into his former conduct, took him into his service.

The brothers had soon the satisfaction of seeing him restored to health, and in time he became a useful, faithful, and grateful servant to his benevolent master.

"Well, my dear Anne," said Mrs. Harley, "how do you like my first story?"

_Anne._ O very much mamma, what good children Edward and James were, to give their money to a poor little hungry boy; indeed, if ever I should meet one I will do the same.

_Mrs. Harley._ Then you will do well, and I shall love you dearly.

Remember, that the use of reading examples of virtue is to inspire you with the desire to imitate them. But do you, my dear, know of what the story you have just read is composed?

_Anne._ O yes, mamma, of words, is it not?

_Mrs. Harley._ You are right: letters make syllables, one or more syllables make a word, words form a sentence, and a number of sentences compose not only the little story of Edward and James, but all the great books in the library. Now can you tell me how letters are divided?

_Anne._ Not properly mamma, pray explain it to me.

_Mrs. Harley._ I will my dear, and so we begin our

FIRST LESSON.

_Mrs. Harley._ Letters of which there are twenty six in our language, are divided into vowels and consonants. There are five proper vowels, a, e, i, o, and u. Y is generally a consonant at the beginning of words, and a vowel at the end of them. Repeat the vowels.

_Anne._ a, e, i, o, u. Y, is sometimes a vowel, and sometimes a consonant. The other letters are all consonants, they are, b, c, d, f, g, h, j, k, l, m, n, p, q, r, s, t, v, w, x, y, z.

_Mrs. Harley._ Very well, now you understand the letters, I will explain the other little marks you see in this book. They are called stops: there are six different ones, the comma, which is the shortest; the semicolon;--the colon:--the period.--the note of admiration!--which denotes wonder or surprise--and the note of interrogation? which shews that a question is asked. Repeat them to me.

_Anne._ , ; : . ! ?

_Mrs. Harley._ Quite right, you may now put away your book, and go to play.

_CHAPTER II._

FRIDAY.

_Mrs. Harley._ Here is another story for you Anne.

_Anne._ Thank you, dear mamma, let me begin it directly.

_The Naughty Girl Reformed._

There was once a little girl who had been so much indulged in her infancy, that by the time she arrived at her sixth year, every one disliked her. She was proud and ill-tempered, she wanted whatever she saw, and when any thing was refused her, she immediately began crying and teazing her mamma for it, who being at last quite tired of her importunity, generally gave up the point, and f.a.n.n.y obtained what she wished for. Now, though the mamma certainly intended to be very kind to her child, yet I think she did wrong in this respect, because children should never have what they cry for.

f.a.n.n.y's ill-temper increased with her years, she quarrelled with all the children who used to play with her, till at length she was quite shunned, and none of her little friends took any notice of her.

A lady had given her sister Julia a pretty wax-doll, and she had taken great pleasure in dressing it: almost all her leisure was occupied in making its cloaths, and when they were completed she was quite delighted. It so happened that f.a.n.n.y was from home when her sister received this present, but no sooner was she returned, and the doll produced, than she began, as usual, to cry for it, and so loud, too, that she disturbed the whole house. For this time, however, her tears were in vain, Julia would not give up her favourite, though she endeavoured to sooth her sister, by promising to lend it her as soon as she should be a little more careful. f.a.n.n.y was at length pacified, but she watched the first opportunity to get possession of the doll. She soon succeeded, and for some time played with it very carefully, but having acquired a negligent habit of using her toys, she soon forgot its brittle texture, and when tired of nursing it, threw it down on the ground. The face was immediately broken to pieces, and while she was picking up the scattered remains of the once beautiful features, Julia entered the room. On seeing her favourite thus destroyed, she could not help shedding tears, and she reproached f.a.n.n.y for having taken the doll without permission, especially as she had been so repeatedly desired never to touch it. f.a.n.n.y felt quite ashamed for her fault, and was really sorry for the mischief she had occasioned: she begged her sister's pardon and promised never again to be so naughty. The good tempered Julia readily forgave her, and for a few days after this misfortune f.a.n.n.y behaved much better than usual. However, as ill habits are very difficult to be overcome, she soon relapsed into her former fretful and pa.s.sionate ways; indeed, she made the family so uncomfortable that her mother determined to send her from home, and for that purpose wrote to a relation, entreating her to take the care of f.a.n.n.y for some time, and try if a different mode of treatment might have some good effect in correcting her faults.

Mrs. Benson was eminently distinguished for good sense and pleasing manners. She had frequently regretted the improper indulgences that were granted to this little girl, and accepted with alacrity the charge consigned to her care. She made but a short visit to her sister, and when she returned to her own residence, took back her little niece. It had been a very difficult task to persuade f.a.n.n.y to accompany Mrs. Benson, but at length the engaging manners of this lady quite overcame her reluctance, and after parting very affectionately with her mother and sister, she got into the carriage that was to convey her above a hundred miles from the place where she had hitherto resided.

It was night when Mrs. Benson with her young charge arrived at the end of her journey. The motion of the carriage had lulled f.a.n.n.y to sleep, and she was undressed and put to bed without being conscious of what was pa.s.sing around her. The next morning on opening her eyes, she was quite surprised to find herself in an apartment with which she was wholly unacquainted, but the sight of her aunt soon brought to her recollection the change that had taken place. Mrs. Benson desired her to rise, but when told to put on her stockings she began to cry, and said that her maid always did it at home. "But here, my dear," replied Mrs. Benson, "you must do it yourself, for I make it an invariable rule never to a.s.sist a little girl in any thing she can so easily accomplish by herself. And I must now tell you f.a.n.n.y, that you never can have what you cry for in my house, so be a good girl and do as you are desired."

f.a.n.n.y then continued to cry very violently, and would not obey; her naughty behaviour had no effect upon her aunt, who continued dressing herself, and when she had finished, went out of the room without noticing it. f.a.n.n.y being left alone, and finding that no one attended to her tears, at length began to dress, and after she had remained quiet for some time, a servant was sent up to a.s.sist her. She then went down stairs, and when she entered the parlour, her aunt said to her, "I am sorry you have been so long dressing, because I have breakfasted; the things are removed, and I cannot suffer them to be brought up again this morning. I am going out, and if you like to accompany me, I will shew you the village, and we will visit some of the cottagers who are employed in making lace, their work, I a.s.sure you, is very beautiful."

f.a.n.n.y was greatly disappointed at being deprived of her breakfast, but she fetched her bonnet and followed her aunt. She was quite delighted with her walk, and on her return to the house was very glad to see a plate of bread and fruit on the table. After she had eaten as much as she chose, Mrs. Benson shewed her some pictures, and she remained a tolerably good girl during the rest of the day.

The following morning, when Mrs. Benson desired f.a.n.n.y to read, she was very naughty, and would not say a letter. "Well," said her aunt, "if you will not read you shall neither play nor walk, so when I go out I shall leave you at home." f.a.n.n.y persisted in her ill-humour, and was therefore obliged to spend the morning alone, instead of enjoying a pleasant ramble in the fields. When Mrs. Benson returned, she asked her niece if she would then try to read, "because," added she "till you have done so, you may be a.s.sured I will grant you no amus.e.m.e.nt." f.a.n.n.y perceiving that her aunt was quite determined to keep her word, at length took up the book and read as well as she could. Mrs. Benson, pleased with her compliance, made no allusion to her former obstinacy, but gave her a pretty sattin pincus.h.i.+on, telling her that if she would try to be a good child she should love her dearly.

From this time f.a.n.n.y began to amend; at first she found it very difficult to restrain her temper, but the more she tried, the easier she found the task: and though during the first few months of her residence at Mrs. Benson's she frequently forgot the good resolutions she had formed, yet she was always sincerely sorry for her faults, and endeavoured to make amends by doing whatever she thought would restore her to her aunt's favour.

Thus Mrs. Benson had the satisfaction of seeing a child whom she had formerly known so undutiful and ill-tempered, become by degrees quite amiable and obliging: the alteration in her was so great, that when at the end of a year Mrs. Benson carried her to pay a visit to her family, they could hardly trace any resemblance between f.a.n.n.y such as she now was, and the naughty little girl who had given them so much trouble. She staid in London three weeks, during which time the cloud of ill-humour scarcely once ruffled her brow. At the end of that time Mrs. Benson wished to return home, and f.a.n.n.y begged to accompany her, fearing that if deprived of her aunt's counsel before her good habits were entirely fixed, she might relapse into her former errors.