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THE MAGIC GLASS;
oR,
The Setret of Bappiness,
Translated, with Additions,
BY
MRS CAMPBELL OVEREND.
“ There are briars besetting every path,
That call for patient care ;
There is a cross in every lot,
And an earnest need for prayer ;
But a lowly heart that trusts in God,
Is happy anywhere.â€
WarincG,
WILLIAM P. NIMMO,
LONDON AND EDINBURGH
1877.
EDINSURGH :
PRINTED BY M‘FARLANE AND ERSKING
(late Schenck & M‘Farlane},
ST JAMES’ SQUARE,
THE MAGIC GLASS;
OR,
THE SECRET OF HAPPINESS.
CHAPTER I.
THE GRANDMOTHER'S STORY.
Tf e’er one vision touch’d thy infant thought,
Of all the nurse and all the priest have taught,
Of airy elves by moonlight shadow seen,
The silver token, and the circled green.â€
Pors.
HOMAS and Anna lived with their
father and grandmother in a little
cottage in a wood, and they were
more lonely than probably any of our young
readers have ever been. Their father was
the forester and gamekeeper, and the whole
day he was obliged to be out of doors, in
6 - BRIGHT SUMMER.
good or bad weather, to do his duties as a
forester, or to shoot the game for his master.
The mother of the children was dead, and
there was no one with them in the cottage
except the old grandmother, who neither
saw nor heard very well. When she was not
attending to the cooking of the food, she
either sat by the fire and spun at her wheel,
or went to sleep. Every two or three days a
girl named Lisa came from the neighbouring
village with bread and milk, and other neces-
sary things; but, except her, time passed by
without any one else visiting the cottage.
In the summer the children cared little
about visitors. They went daily to the
school in the village, and thought it very
pleasant. They enjoyed the singing of the
birds as they went on their way through the
woods; and they gathered flowers and ber-
ries which they sold in the village. When
the school hours were over, they amused
themselves by watching the squirrels and the
red-deer. In autumn they gathered beech-
nuts and hazel-nuts, so they* had plenty to
amuse them in the summer and autumn.
But in winter it was very different, when
WEARY WINTER. a
the ground was covered with snow, so that
they were forced to stay inside the cottage
like two little mice in their retreat. Their
father was obliged to go out, and took his
dogs with him that were their favourite play-
fellows. When their father was at home he
did not talk to them much; he generally
lay down and slept when he was not clean-
ing his gun. At one time their grandmother
had told them stories to amuse them, but she
had now nearly ceased to do so, and only
muttered a few words to herself.
Little Anna sometimes took her wheel,
and spun beside her grandmother, but it was
a weary business when there was nothing
else to amuse her. Thomas tried to cut
figures out in wood, but he did not succeed ;
he cut his fingers, grew impatient, and often
threw away the work. He gathered pieces
of wood and stone, and tried to build houses
with them; but his grandmother laughed at
iim and his work. Thomas was vexed, and
cross, and said, “How happy rich children
are, like the young gentleman I saw driving
through the village. They can eat as much
as they like, and amuse themselves as they
8 A DREARY EVENING TIME.
like. If I were not like them, I should wish
to be like the gipsy children, who go out and
wander where they please.â€
One evening, not long before Christmas,
the little cottage was even more silent and
gloomy than usual. They had not lighted
the lamp, for they had but little oil left, and
the snow lay so deep on the ground that
Lisa had not been able to come from the
village as usual with the things that were
required.
Fortunately the full moon was shining;
but the children were half afraid of the
shadow cast on every object, as the moon-
beams shone through the window.
Anna nestled close to her grandmother’s
side. Thomas, too, drew nearer to them, and
earnestly entreated his grandmother to tell
them a story. “ Grandmother,†said he, “ do
tell us at least one little story; do you know
none that we have not heard before ?â€
“None, boy, none; I have forgotten them
all,†muttered the old woman.
“Then tell us one that we have heard
before, grandmother: the story about the
dwarfs in the quarry.â€
GRANDMOTHER'S STORY. 9
“Tn the quarry? Yes; wait boy, let me
think a moment: I remember that story.
“«Once upon a time, long, long ago, before
a stone was taken from the large quarry in
the glen, there stood a high rock, steep and
smooth as a wall; and before the rock there
was a green, smooth, pleasant meadow. The
dwarfs then lived under the rock There
were steps that led down from the meadow
to their pleasant dwelling-place, in which
was the palace of their queen. There were
no hunters or gamekeepers, no masons or
woodcutters to be seen in the forest at that
time; and on sunny days and moonlight
evenings the dwarfs came up and enjoyed
themselves, had their feasts on the soft green
moss, and danced right merrily.
“But after a time, the people on the
plain outside the forest began to build many
houses, and they came into the wood to cut
down trees and to quarry stones. The dwarfs
were very anxious about their city, their beau-
tiful rock, and the green spot where they
danced. To prevent the people from quarry-
ing in their rock, they assembled at night in
the wood, and collected large stones, and
10 LEGEND OF THE DWARFS.
rolled them to the outside of the forest. But
the people were not content with these.
They explored the forest, found the dwarf’s
rock, and resolved to make it a quarry.
They blew it up with gunpowder, and the
great stones were thrown with a loud crash
upon the green meadow. There was a cry
of anguish in the fair city of the dwarfs, as
it was destroyed and laid desolate. The
dwarfs who had not been injured went far
away into the depths of the forest. No one
knows where they now live, or whether they
have built another city. They have often
come back at night, and tried to roll away
the stones from the meadow where they once
enjoyed themselves; but it has always again
been covered by other stones from the quarry.
It is said that now they come every year, on
the eve of St Thomas, to see whether the
grass is still covered with stones; and, if
any one goes on that evening, and rolls away
three stones, the dwarfs will grant him any-
thing he likes to ask.’â€
So ended the grandmother’s story. She
had not spoken so much for a long time, and
was very tired. Anna was afraid, and said
a
EXCITED CURIOSITY. 11
nothing; but Thomas, who had listened to
his grandmother with glowing cheeks and
sparkling eyes, wondered within himself
whether the dwarfs still came to the quarry,
and whether he might see them.
At that moment the barking of the dogs
was heard, and soon after the father of the
children entered the cottage, tired, half-frozen,
and rather cross. He groped about in the
darkness, trying to find something to eat,
but in vain. Since the old grandmother
had lost her memory, she had often forgot-
ten to provide something for him on his
return; besides, Lisa had not been there
that day, so the poor man was obliged to go
to bed hungry. In winter the grandmother
had her bed in the kitchen, and Anna was
with her, the father and Thomas slept in the
opposite room. The father was so tired after
his long walks, and often watching: through
the night, that when he could be at home
he slept so soundly that nothing but a shot
fired near the cottage could have roused him.
That night Thomas could not sleep. It
was not the first time that he had heard the
story about the dwaris put he had never
12 A BOLD PROPOSAL.
before understood that they were still sup-
posed to come so near as the quarry. His
heart was beating with anxiety when he
thought he might cheer the loneliness of
the cottage, and make it a pleasant dwelling,
if the dwarfs granted his request. Then he
remembered that it was only two days before
the festival of St Thomas. He could not
keep his joy to himself; he rose early the
next morning, and whispered to Anna, “ Do
you know, Anua, that the day after to-morrow
is the festival of St Thomas; to-night the
dwarfs will come to the quarry; let us go
and carry stones out of their green meadow.â€
Anna was shocked and astonished.
“Oh! what can you be thinking of,
Thomas?†said she; “it was only a fairy
tale that grandmother told us. If it hap-
pened at all, it happened a hundred years
ago, and it would frighten me to death to go
out into the wood at night.â€
Although Anna was older than Thomas,
he thought himself the wiser of the two, and
he decided that there was nothing to be done
“with such a stupid girl, and that he must
earry out his plan himself.
CHAPTER II.
A NIGHT ADVENTURE.
‘Fairy elves,
Whose midnight revels by some forest side,
Or fountain, some belated peasant sees,
Or dreams he sees.â€
MILTON.
HE father came home in good time
on St Thomas’ Eve, and before the
grandmother had put the lamp out,
he was fast asleep. Thomas waited until
Anna was also asleep. As for his. grand-
mother, he well knew that she could not
hear him, even if she were awake. All was
goon still. He had not undressed himself,
and he drew his fur cap over his ears, and
walked softly out. The watch-dog, that had .
scarcely ever seen Thomas go out alone at
this hour, was much astonished, but only
14. AT THE DWARFS GREEN.
uttered a low growl as Thomas stroked him
in passing.
The moon was shining brightly, and the
wood was as still as death, so that. Thomas
began to feel frightened. However, he took
courage, and went on with slow but firm
steps along the well-known path to the great
stone quarry. Nota living creature stirred
as he went down into the hollow, and the
cleft in the rock, into which a moonbeam
scarcely found its way, had a truly dreadful
aspect.
With hesitating steps he went softly to the
place which had once been the greensward,
where the elves had danced, but which was
now covered with stones of all sizes. With
trembling hands he took up the largest of
them that he could carry, and threw them
away. When he had thrown the third stone,
he heard a shrill voice that said, “ Who is
there?†and he saw a very little manikin,
dressed in green, who was standing on the
only moonlit spot on the grass.
“JT am Thomas, the forester’s son,†an-
swered the boy, rather frightened, respect-
fully taking off his cap.
THOMAS’S WISH. ‘15
“ What are you doing here?†asked the elf.
“Only picking up stones, that the good
people may come here to dance.â€
“Your help is not of much use,†said the
elf, sorrowfully; “but it is kind of you to
try, and you shall not have done it in vain.
What do you wish for ?â€
Thomas could not think of anything at the
moment, although he had wished for so much
a short time ago. The thought of a horse on
which he could ride to school—of a whole
cask of oil, so that the lamp would never go
out for want of fuel—of a sack full of apples
and nuts,—but after all his great expecta-
tions these things seemed too little to ask for.
“A large purse full of gold,†said he at last.
“Indeed !†said the elf, “are you, young as
you are, so fond of gold already? What
would you do with all that money ?â€
“T would build a very large, fine house
where our cottage stands,†said Thomas, with
more confidence, “and I would have a stable
full of fine horses, that I might ride out
when I Jiked; and I would buy a new dress
for Anna, and a whole cask of oil, so that we
should never have to sit in the dark.â€
B
16 THE ELF'S PROMISE.
“Ay! ay! and what more?†said the
little elf, with a scornful laugh. “Some day
you may build the house, but not in this
dark wood. Some time you shall go out
into the world, but you will need no horse
for that. Anna can get a new dress without
your help; and the oil you can get for your-
self. If you go with your basket into the
forest, you can gather enough beech-nuts to
yield sufficient oil to supply your lamp for two
years.* It is my opinion that in the mean-
time you do not need the purse full of gold
You are too young to make a good use of it.â€
“ Ah!†said Thomas, in a half whisper, “if
the winter evenings were not so dull and
wearisome! If we had even a good picture-
book to amuse us in the long hours when it
is so dark and dreary !â€
*The fruit of the beech-tree, which is like small sweet
nuts of a three-cornered shape, and is called beech mast,
is palatable to the taste. When subjected to pressure, it
yields a sweet and palatable oil, which, if properly made,
is equal in quality to the best olive oil, and has the ad-
vantage of continuing longer than that without becoming
rancid. Beech oil is manufactured in several parts of:
France, and is used by the lower classes of Silesia instead
of butter.
LOOKING FORWARD. 17
Well, then,†said the elf, “that is reason-
able. I can now help you. Go home happy.
About Christmas I will come and see you, and
shall take care that the winter evenings shall
never be again so dull and dreary to you.
You may be certain that we always do what
we promise.â€
The elf disappeared. Thomas was rather
frightened, and he went quietly home, with
more anxiety and in more suspense than
when he had gone out. He lifted the latch
without being heard by any one, slipped
yuietly into the house, got into his comfort-
able bed, and dreamed of the elf. He re-
solved not to tell Anna anything about it,
because he did not feel quite sure what the
elf would give him, or even if he would give
him anything. In silent and anxious hope
he looked forward to Christmas Day.
CHAPTER III.
THE CHRISTMAS GIFT.
** Welcome Christmas! welcome here,
Happiest season of the year !
Welcome Christmas! for thy voice
Calls upon us to rejoice.â€
M. A. Sropart.
HRISTMAS had come, and there was
joy even in the lonely cottage in
the wood. The father had brought
as many apples and nuts from the village as
he was able to carry. The grandmother had
found two beautiful Scripture pictures within
the leaves of her old Bible, and these were
her Christmas presents to the children, The
wife of the head forester, who was the
children’s godmother, sent her maid to the
cottage on Christmas morning with two nice
gingerbread cakes in the shape of hearts, a
CHRISTMAS FARE. 19
beautiful new dress for Anna, and a good
warm jacket for Thomas. The father stayed
at home that day, and superintended the
cooking of a fine hare. They had not had
such a treat for a long time; but Thomas
could not enjoy it as he would once have
done, for he was anxiously expecting some-
thing better. Night came, and all in the
cottage were asleep except Thomas. He did
not undress, and sat waiting and wondering
what his new friend would bring him to
amuse them in the long winter nights.
At length he heard a gentle knock at the
house door. As quick as thought he went
to the door, though not without some degree
of fear and trembling. He opened it, and
there stood the little manikin in the green
dress, who carried nothing in his hand but a
round glittering piece of coloured glass.
“Take me to your little attic room,†said
the elf. and he went up much more swiftly
and quietly than Thomas could do into the
little room, which was lighted up by his glit-
tering, shining glass. There was not much to
be seen in it—an old bed, a rickety table with
three feet, and two chairs. The largest piece
20 GIFT FROM FAIRYLAND.
of furniture in the room was an old-fashioned
cupboard, fastened to the wall, and blackened
by age, which had been used by the children
as a good place for keeping their playthings.
In the back of the cupboard there was
a large round hole which Anna would
have been frightened to look into, it was so
dark, and seemed to go so far into the wall.
This cupboard seemed well known to the elf.
He opened the door, and fixed his glass in
the round hole.
“Now,†he said, “I have provided for your
amusement. Little boy, whenever you feel
dull look into the round hole in your cup-
board, chiefly in the morning and evening
when you and Anna are alone. Good-bye,
little boy ; you have got your wish.â€
Before Thomas could reply, the elf had dis-
appeared. Thomas did not understand the
elf’s speech, and he was afraid to look into
the press that night; so he went down to his
father’s room, and could scarcely sleep for
thinking and wondering whether the elf had
spoken in jest or earnest.
The next morning the father went out
early, and then Thomas could keep his secret
THE EXPECTED PLEASURE, 21
no longer, but whispered the whole story to
his sister in the presence of their deaf grand-
mother, who did not hear a word of it.
Anna sometimes laughed as if she did not
believe him, and then looked half-afraid.
However, he persuaded her to pay a visit to
the cupboard that very evening; and the
whole day the children did nothing but talk
about what they expected to see.
CHAPTER IV.
THE LONELY PRINCE.
*¢ Was ever king that ’joy’d an earthly throne,
And could command no more content than I ?â€
SHAKESPEARE.
N the evening their father had not
returned, and the grandmother had
gone to sleep. The two children,
full of anxious expectation, slipped quietly
upstairs to the attic, and Thomas, who was
the most courageous, opened the door and
looked first into the hole in which the glass
of the elf had been fixed. .
He was bewildered and astonished at the
magnificent scene he saw. He hastily drew
the trembling Anna to his side, for the open-
ing was large enough to allow both of them
to look in at once. They saw such splendour
WONDERLAND. 23
as they had never before beheld, and they
could scarcely refrain from screaming loud
enough to awake their grandmother. They
saw a large, lofty hall, brilliantly lighted by
wax lights in golden candlesticks; at one
end was a high and richly-adorned Christ-
mas tree, on which were many hundreds of
coloured lamps. The table before the tree
was covered with beautiful things of all
kinds. There were toys, regiments of soldiers,
cavalry and infantry, with their cannons and
waggons, a whole stud of small wooden
horses of all kinds, splendidly illustrated
picture-books, and numerous other pretty
things which the two cottage children had
never seen before. There were silver spurs
and a riding whip, a small gun, a sabre, and
a splendid dress for a boy, of velvet em-
broidered with gold. All these magnificent
things were arranged upon the table on
which were also placed plates and baskets of
the choicest confectionery.
“ Ah! who is so happy as to get all that ?â€
sighed the children. Then they saw a door
open, and a slender, pale boy about ten years
- old entered the room, followed by a train of
24 DISTURBED.
ladies and gentlemen richly dressed. Thomas
and Anna thought that a whole troop of
children were coming to share the feast and
looked eagerly for the others; but there
remained only the one boy, who seemed not
the least surprised at what he saw, and with
a languid smile passed by all the beautiful
things, and scarcely cast a glance on them,
whilst Thomas and Anna pressed their
glowing faces close to the glass and seemed
ready to devour the good things with their
eyes.
“Where are you, children?†cried the
voice of their grandmother from the room
below. Startled, they drew their heads back.
All became as dark as before, and the old
cupboard looked as it had always done.
The children felt as if just awaked from a
dream when they sat down again in the old
dull room dimly lighted by the little lamp.
They were almost glad on this evening that
their grandmother was so deaf, because they
could speak freely of the magnificent sight
they had seen, and describe to one another
various pretty things which one of them had
seen and the other had not noticed.
IN SOLITARY STATE. 25
« Ah! what a happy boy that must be,†they
often repeated. When they lay down to rest
their last thought was, “Oh! if we had even
some of these beautiful things!†and when
sleep closed their eyes the picture in the
glass appeared to them again in their dreams.
Very early in the morning Anna and
Thomas went up to the attic. Their father
had gone out early, so they could look into
the wonderful cupboard undisturbed. They
were very anxious to see the splendid hall
again. They were not disappointed, but the
picture was changed. There was now day-
light in the place, and it looked as magnificent
as before, although changed, The boy whom
they had seen the night before appeared, now
wearing a silk dressing-gown, lying listlessly
on a sofa. Beautifully-bound books were
scattered round him, but he was reading
none of them. He looked weary, discon-
tented, and cross. As the children were
wondering that he could be unhappy in the
snidst of so much splendour, a door of the
hall opened, and an old gentleman entered.
The children clearly heard them speak, —
although it was in a low tone as if their
26 POOR RICH BOY!
voices sounded from a distance: “ Still dis-
contented, dear Prince?†asked the gentle-
man; “and yet you have so much that
would make other children perfectly happy.â€
“Why do you speak to me of other
children?†said the young Prince; “ other
children are not so lonely asI am. I have
looked over all these toys and books and I
am tired of them.â€
“But you know, dear Prince, that if you
wish for society you can have it when you
choose.â€
“Yes, society indeed! and what is it?
The young people come—they say, ‘Good
morning, Prince,’ and, ‘How is your Royal
Highness ?’ and they play with my toys and
look at my books, and talk and laugh with
each other; then I weary of them, they go
away, and I am alone again. I should like
to go out where and when I please like other
children.â€
“But your Highness may go to walk, or
ride, or drive, whenever you choose.â€
« Ah, yes, I may go to walk with you, or
to ride with a groom behind me. There is
not much pleasure in that. I want to go
FOOD FOR REMARK. 27
out alone, and to go wherever I please. I
would rather be a gipsy boy than a prince !â€*
Before the astonished children could hear
or see more, their grandmother called them ;
the glass became dark, and they shut the
cupboard and hastened downstairs.
That evening they had much to say to
each other; they could not understand why
the Prince was so fretful and discontented.
“Ah! how happy should we be, amongst
so many beautiful things !†sighed Thomas.
“Yes, but we are not alone,†said Anna.
“ That is true ; so I suppose if rich children
are not alone they are pleased and happy,â€
said Thomas.
“We shall try to see the Prince again this
evening,†said Anna.
* In the present day princes have more freedom ; but
that our young readers may understand the wearisome
restraint which princes had to endure in former times,
we refer them to the story in the end of this volume,
entitled, ‘A day in the life of a child king.â€
CHAPTER V.
THE GIPSY CHILDREN.
**] was not born without a home,
Or in some broken shed ;
A gipsy baby taught to roam,
And steal my daily bread.
*¢ My God, I thank Thee, who hast plann’d
A better lot for me,
And placed me in this happy nnd
Where I may hear of Thee.â€
HOMAS and Anna talked the whole
day about what they were to see
is in the evening, and impatiently
waited for the time when they might pay a
visit to the cupboard. When they opened it
and looked in, the magnificent hall had dis-
appeared, and they saw a wood, almost like
that in which they lived. In the midst of a
large open space among the trees, a blazing
GIPSY LIFE. 29
fire was burning, a pot was boiling over it,
and game was being cooked for the gipsies’
dinner. Some brown, rather ragged people
were watching round the fire, a few were
playing merrily on rude instruments of
music, and at a little distance a troop of
children were jumping and dancing merrily
round them.
“Ah! that is a pleasant sight,†said
Thomas, but Anna shook her head; she did
not quite like it. A gipsy boy came up with
a sack of ripe fruit—the children received
him with cries of joy, as he emptied it upon
. the grass. They eagerly scrambled for it,
and then resumed their wild merry games.
Thomas would have liked to join them, and
was very much vexed that just at that
moment his father returned, and ealled to
him to come down from the attic. Thomas
thought of the gipsies the whole evening, and
seemed to like their life so much, that Anna
became quite frightened that her brother
would go out in the night and join a band of
gipsies. Even in his sleep, Thomas mur-
mured some of the merry tunes which he had
heard the gipsies play.
30 THE SCENE CHANGED.
Early in the morning, before his father
was awake, Thomas looked into the glass,
without waiting for Anna; but after a little
time she joined him.
Again they saw the grassy glade in the
wood, but it did not seem so pleasant as it
had done the night before. It was daylight,
the fire was out, and the gipsies were run-
ning about, gathering up their possessions as
if anxious and frightened. Very soon a band
of police appeared, and a wild tumult arose;
after a short resistance, most of the gipsies
were seized and made prisoners, because they
had been accused of theft and robbery. With
howls and shrieks the gipsy children saw
their fathers and mothers forced away, while
they themselves were taken in another
direction. The children could not look
longer at the scene, and they turned sadly
away.
“What do you think now of your free life
in the woods?†said Anna to Thomas. “ Would
you still like to be a gipsy boy ?â€
“Can you think I would, when they steal?â€
replied Thomas indignantly. “That soon
999
puts an end to their free life!
A MORAL. 31
“Rich children are better off,†said Anna,
“if they were only not so dull and fretful and
discontented as the prince.â€
CHAPTER VI.
THE QUARRELSOME CHILDREN,
“* Better zs little with the fear of the Lord, than great
treasure and trouble therewith.â€
“Better 7s a dinner of herbs where love is, than a
stalled ox and hatred therewith.â€â€”Prov. xv. 16, 17.
“ Better zs a dry morsel, and quietness therewith, than
a house full of sacrifices (or good cheer) with strife.†—
Prov. xvii. 1.
OR several days the children could
not go to look at their wonderful
glass; either their father was at
home, or their grandmother kept them more
with her. The delay made them only the
more anxious to visit the cupboard, and when
they did so, the scene was again changed.
They now saw a well-furnished room, not
so magnificent as the hall, but more comfort-
able and pleasant. It was covered’ with a
BRIGHT SIDE. 33
soft, many-coloured carpet; there was beauti-
ful furniture, and there were pretty pictures on
the wall. This room was filled with beautiful
toys for both boys and girls. There was a
large doll-house, completely furnished with
sofas, chairs, and tables in the rooms; little
bedrooms, with bedsteads and toilet-tables ;
dolls dressed like ladies and gentlemen and
children ; a kitchen, well-furnished with pots
and pans, plates and dishes, crystal and
china, knives, forks, spoons, and everything
to be found in well-furnished houses. There
was also a nursery, with cradles and chil-
dren’s chairs, and small toys. On the other
side of the room, there was the model of a
fortress, with a number of small soldiers and
cannons, all ready for a mimic fight. In an-
other place, there was a shop, well-furnished
with plums, raisins, almonds, figs, and con-
fectionery. Then there was the waggon of a
travelling pedlar, with all his various wares.
There were also as many picture-books as
they had seen in the princely hall. The child-
ren would never have been weary of looking at
such a display of toys.
Suddenly a door opened, and two girls and
34 DARKE SIDE,
a boy came in; they were the owners of all
these things. They had just returned from a
walk. The girls went to their dolls, the boy
to the shop. One of the girls came with
bright pennies to buy sweetmeats from her
brother, the other began to dress her doll in
clothes which she took out-of a little ward-
robe.
Oh! how sorry the children were when
their grandmother called them down to sup-
per. How they did dream both asleep and
awake of the beautiful toys they had seen.
How eagerly they hastened next morning to
the cupboard to see what these happy-chil-
dren were doing.
Thomas and Anna were rather disap-
pointed, for the room did not look nearly so
pleasant as it had done the day before. The
dolls were lying on the floor, and one of the
little girls was screaming and crying. The
evening before, she had left the room door
open, the kittens had got in, had taken her
best doll, and tessed it about—had scratched
and destroyed its face, and torn its best
dress.
“Tt is all your fault,†said one of the chil-
DROP THE CURTAIN. 35
dren, “ you ought to have cleared the room,
and put away the things!â€
“Tt is not my fault—it is yours!†screamed
the other; “it was you who were playing
with them, and you ought to have put them
away.â€
Then they quarrelled about a small sugar-
loaf, which the girls wished to have in the
kitchen of their doll-house, and the boy
wished to put in the shop. They screamed
and fought for it till one of the girls was
pushed against the shop, and many of the
articles in it fell and were broken and de-
stroyed. In anger and revenge, the boy
rushed to the doll-house, and broke the
crockery and crystal. There was screaming
and howling, and scolding and complaining
to such a degree, that the cottage Bhiladren
were glad to close the cupboard, and see and
hear no more of it.
CHAPTER VII.
THE INVALID CHILDREN.
** When pining sickness wastes the frame,
Acute disease and weakening pain ;
When life fast spends her feeble flame,
And all the help of man is vain ;
Joyless and dark all things appear,
Languid the spirits, weak the flesh :
Med’cines canâ€; ease, nor cordials cheer,
Nor food support, nor sleep refresh.â€
Harr.
E time seemed long to Thomas and
Anna till they could look again
into the glass. The scene this time
was a comfortable room, well furnished with
toys and books. There was a table spread
with all such things as children like to eat—
tarts, cakes, fruit, and sweetmeats. There
were two little girls in the room; it was the
birthday of one of them. They were not
FORBIDDEN PLEASURES. 37
quarrelsome as the other children had been,
but they looked unhappy and discontented.
“Shall I give you a tart, Emma?†said
one of the sisters.
“Oh! no, Sophia,†said Emma; “I should
like an apple.â€
“An apple? but do you not remember
that the doctor has forbiddcn you to eat any
kind of fruit ?â€
«Ah! yes, and the tarts make me sick. I
do not know why my grandmother has sent
them, when I am forbidden to eat them;
and sugar plums give me toothache, so that
my aunt might have kept her present to
herself.â€
“Let us go into the garden,†said Sophia.
“Yes, yes,†said Emma, let us go into the
garden and gather flowers.â€
They put on their hats, and were just
going out, when their mother came in and
stopped them.
“Where are you going, children ?†said she.
“Only into the garden for a little while,
mamma. We wish to gather some flowers.â€
“No, no; I cannot allow you to go out,
there is a cold wind, and the ground is damp,
38 SOLEHO
it will bring back Emma’s toothache and
Sophia’s cough. Stay in your playroom. I
will now order these tarts and sweetmeats to
be taken away. I believe you have eaten too
many of them already. You must now take
your medicine.â€
The little girls made wry faces when they
heard of the medicine which they so much
disliked.
Anna could not bear to wait to see them
take it, and she turned sorrowfully away.
That evening the children thought and
talked much of all that they had seen.
“Do you really think, Thomas,†asked
Anna, “that all the children in the world
have something to make them unhappy ?â€
“Oh, no!†said Thomas, eagerly, “that is
impossible; some of them must be happy. “
If the Prince had not been so lonely and
duly A
« And if the gipsy children had had honest
parents—and if the three children had not
been so quarrelsome—and if the two little
girls had been healthy and strong—it would
have been quite different. You see, that
when children are good and contented and
HARD TO SOLVE. 39
healthy, and love each other, then they are
all right.†_
“Even if they are as poor as we are, and
live in such a lonely cottage as this ?†asked
Thomas.
Anna was puzzled, she could not say “yesâ€
with her whole heart.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE LONELY LADY.
‘« When the vision’s flown,
I weep that I am all alone.â€
JIIE next evening when Thomas and
Anna went to look into the glass,
they were surprised with the beauty
of the scene before them. They saw a com-
fortable villa standing in a garden shaded
with splendid trees. One side of the house
was covered with roses to the very roof, and
a vine was trained on the other side, with
rich clusters of ripening grapes. In the
garden in front there was a brilliant display
of roses, geraniums, and calceolarias, of the
rarest and most beautiful of their kind; and
the air was perfumed with the sweet scent
of mignonette and jasmine. Beyond the
garden, a lovely English landscape stretched
AN ENGLISH LANDSCAPE, 41
away as far as the eye could see. There
were green fields and pleasant houses, with
here and there a church spire rising on a
height on the undulating ground. The view
was such as Cowper describes in the follow-
ing lines:
“ Thence with what pleasure have we just discern’d
The distant plough slow moving ; and beside
His labouring team, that swerved not from the track,
The sturdy swain, diminish’d to a boy!
Here Ouse, slow winding through a level plain
Of spacious meads, with cattle sprinkled o’er,
~ Conducts the eye along his sinuous course
Delighted. There, fast-rooted in their bank,
Stand, never overlook’d, our favourite elms,
That screen the herdsman’s solitary hut ;
While far beyond, and overthwart the stream,
That, as with molten grass, inlays the vale,
The sloping land recedes into the clouds ;
Displaying on its varied side the grace
Of hedgerow beauties numberless ; square tower,
Tall spire, from which the sound of cheerful bells
Just undulates upon the listening ear,
Groves, heaths, and smoking villages remote.â€
While the children looked, a window of
the house was opened, and a lady came out
into the balcony, in which the rarest flowers
were placed. She wore a pretty muslin dress,
and her long, dark hair was simply braided.
Pl
42 TEA IN THE GARDEN.
The children saw her water the flowers, and
then she came out into the garden, where
she scattered a few crumbs upon the gravel
walk. She was instantly surrounded by a
flock of birds, which were so tame that they
picked up the crumbs at her feet, and showed
no fear of her. She had fed them all through
the winter, and now in the summer they
still came at her call. Her favourite dog
came bounding to her side, and fawned upon
her; and as she stroked his glossy head, he
looked gratefully up with his bright, eager
eyes.
Just then two ladies appeared at the
garden gate.
“Oh! Emily! Caroline! How glad I am
to see you,†said the lady. “You have just
come in time, as there are several chil-
dren coming to take tea with me this after-
noon in the garden.â€
She led them into the garden at the back
—a beautiful shady place, with soft green
turf in the centre, bordered by the loveliest
flowers, and surrounded by laurels, laures-
tinus, lilacs, and laburnums.
placed on the grass, covered with a white
ALONE IN THE WORLD. 43
table-cloth, on which were placed large
dishes of red, ripe strawberries, fruit pies,
cakes, curds, and jugs of milk and rich
cream, Chairs were placed round for the
little people, who soon arrived, and were de-
lighted with their feast in the garden. The
lady and her friends waited upon them, and
were pleased with their joyous prattle.
After some time the friends took their
leave, and the children returned to their
homes. The lady was left alone.
She sat at the window watching the last
of the little group as they disappeared in the
_ distance; but there was a shadow on her
brow, and an expression of sadness on her
face, as, wearily leaning her head on her
hand, she said mournfully—
“They have all homes to go to, fathers,
mothers, brothers, sisters. Emily and Caro-
line are always together; never were sisters
more attached. But I am alone, with-
out either brother or sister, husband or
child. My life is solitary and dreary. Oh!
how I wish that my sweet boy had been left
tome. Iloved him so much. It is agony
4 to look at his picture, with his fair hair,
44. THE CHILDREN’S VERDICT.
merry blue eyes, and manly expression, and
think how affectionate he was. But he was
not mine, and now he has been taken away
—alienated from me—he is lost to me, and
T am left alone to my lonely, dreary, desolate
life.â€
Their grandmother now called them, and
Thomas and Anna went down stairs, where,
as usual, they talked about what they had
seen.
“That lady is very wrong,†said Thomas;
“she should be contented mi all ae good
things she has.â€
“JT think she is very foolish,†said Anna;
“and then she need not be alone unless she
likes. She might have some one to stay with
her.â€
“TI wish we knew where she is; she might
ask you and me to visit her. Iam sure I
should be glad to go,†said Thomas, “if she
would give us such nice strawberries as we
saw in the glass.â€
CHAPTER IX.
THE NAUGHTY BOYS.
**Oh, it is sharper than a serpent’s tooth
To have a thankless child.â€
JHE next night, Thomas and Anna
were able to go sooner to the glass
than usual, as their grandmother
was soon asleep, and their father did not in-
tend to return home that night. They has-
tened to the glass to see what had become of
the lonely lady. ;
They saw the villa, but it did not appear
the same. The roses were torn from the
walls, the vine had been pulled down and
trodden under foot, the flower-beds had been
trampled upon, the grass was growing long
and neglected, the whole place looked de-
solate and miserable.
46 UNLICKED CUBS.
Two boys were playing in the front garden.
They were throwing stones at the birds,
beating the poor faithful dog, and trampling
upon the flowers.
Inside the house it was the same. The boys
had smashed the chairs and other furniture,
scrawled on the walls, broken the locks, torn
the blankets, and burst open the pillows by
using them as weapons to fight with each other
—they had even bent and broken an iron-bed-
stead, and had splashed ink over everything.
As they were rioting in front of the house,
a woman spoke to them :
“You are vexing the lady by your wild
conduct,†said she.
“Lady! she is no lady! See how we
make her work. Why, she even helps to cook
our dinner. Ladies dress in fine clothes, and
drive in carriages, and make morning visits as
our mother does. Ladies do not work.â€
“She is very kind to you. Do you not
like her?†asked the woman.
“She is so far kind to us, that she gives
us good ‘grub, I will say that,†said one of
the boys; “but she is so tiresome in other
ways, that we hate her. She never gives us |
IMPUDENT FRANKNESS. 47
even one glass of wine; she takes away our
pipes, tobacco, and cigars; she makes us be
quiet on Sundays, and offers us ‘goody’ books,
such as the Sunday at Home, to read; she
forces us to learn far more lessons than we
need to do, and if we rap out ever so little an
oath, she is angry with us. Oh! she is a
horrible tyrant !â€
“You will kill her, if you go on as you
do,†said the woman.
' “Well! who cares? the sooner she dies the
better, for all she has will be ours. Mother
will come to this house, and all that we have
done will soon be set right when the painters,
and gardeners are set to work. Mother likes
finery, and will soon make it all grand
enough. We won’t try to spoil it then.â€
“Why do you try to spoil it now 2â€
“Oh! only to get. her out of it,†said the
boy, pointing to the window. “She doesn’t
like to have it in such a state, and we want
to make her leave it.â€
“Tf we could only get rid of her,†said the
other boy, “it would be jolly. Mother would
let us drink and smoke, and go to the theatre
to see the pantomimes, and do anything we
48 INGRATITUDE.
like, instead of being shut up every evening
learning lessons.
“Provided always,†said the other, “that
father should know nothing about it.â€
“Te is too strict,†replied the brother ;
“but he would never know. Mother has
always taught us to be careful not to tell
him. If he should find anything out and get
‘waxy, let mother alone to manage him.
Oh, she is a clever one! She knows how to
smooth him!†and both the boys laughed.
The lady heard all the conversation from the
open window, where she was wearily trying
to make order in the utter confusion. How
changed she was! The pretty fresh muslin
was exchanged for a shabby dark-grey dress of
the most common description; there were
erey hairs in her scanty locks ; her once fair
white hands were red and rough with hard
work—work done voluntarily and unre-
warded—for those who thus despised her
and treated her with ingratitude.
When she heard the unkind words spoken
by the boys, she covered her face with her
hands and wept bitterly, saying very sadly—
“T have been discontented and ungrateful
GRANDMOTHERS SAYING. 49
for my many blessings, and mourned too
much about one which was withheld. I
have got what I wished, children to be with
me, and they have been like thorns in my
side. But, oh! I could have borne all this,
and would willingly have continued to en-
dure more than this, if I could only have seen
them become as good as I wish them to be!
Now, I can do no more ‘Yes! I can pray
for them !
Anna could look no longer; her eyes were
blinded by tears, and she begged Thomas to
go downstairs with her.
“Tam very sorry for the poor lady,†said
she.
“Tam not at all sorry for her,†said Thomas.
“Tt is all her own fault. She was not
obliged to take these naughty boys to live
with her.â€
“But she wanted to try to make them
better,†said Anna. “Poor lady! she was
right to try to do that if she could.â€
“Yes, but it was_no business of her’s to
try anything of the kind,†said Thomas
stoutly. “ Remember grandmother’s favourite
saying, ‘Be content with such things as ye
50 “MIGHT HAVE BEEN.â€
have. If the lady had no children, she
should have been contented without them,
and it would have been better for her.â€
“Still,†persisted Anna, “she was right to
try to do good to others, and perhaps if the
mother of these boys had not taught them
to deceive their father, the poor lady might
have done them good.â€
“T don’t know,†said Thomas; “but I
know this, Anna, that if you and I had gone
to live with the poor lady, we would have
behaved better to her.â€
CHAPTER X.
THE EMPEROR AND EMPRESS.
‘The diadem, with mighty projects lined,
To catch renown by ruining mankind,
Is worth, with all its gold and glittering store,
Just what the toy will sell for, and no more.â€
CowPeEr.
ELL,†said Thomas to Anna, as they
went upstairs the next evening to
have another peep into the glass,
“JT still think that I should like to be a
king. The lonely Prince was young,—he
had tutors over him, and that can never be
pleasant. But if he had been king, and
could have done exactly as he liked, then I am
sure he would have been perfectly happy.â€
“I think so too,†said Anna. “We have only
seen a boy prince, but kings and queens must
be perfectly happy.â€
52 THE TOP OF THE TREE.
They looked into the glass, and saw a more
brilliant scene than had ever been pictured
there before. The streets of a great city were
filled with crowds of people in holiday attire.
It was the birthday of the emperor.
At every open space, there were all sorts
of amusements for the crowd,—at every turp
there were triumphal arches formed of ever.
greens, and the most lovely flowers.
splendid carriage drove past, in which was
seated the emperor with the empress by his
side. She was a lady of great beauty, and
was magnificently dressed. As they passed
along the streets, they were cheered by the
multitude of people, and “Long live the
emperor!†“Long live the empress!†re-
sounded from thousands of voices.
“ They are happy at all events,†said Thomas
to Anna. “Surely they are content with the
things that they have.â€
A haze obscured the glass for a moment,
and another scene appeared.
Amid heaps of slain and wounded men
strewing the fields for miles, past smoking
BRIEF EARTHLY GLORY. 53
ruins, and amid the groans of the dying, a
solitary carriage drove hastily along.
In it was seated the Emperor once so power-
ful. He was going to lay his sword at the
feet of a rival king, and yield himself up a
prisoner.
Again the mirror was obscured, and the
children saw another picture.
The Empress, onceso magnificentand power-
ful, was standing at a window of her splendid
palace. Her face expressed the utmost grief
and terror. Through the trees of the beauti-
ful garden, crowds of men were coming, not
as before, in holiday attire, to exclaim, “ Long
live the Empress!†but with arms in their
hands, and an expression of ferocity in their
faces. They broke through the fences, trampled
down the flower-borders, smashed the windows
of the palace, and broke open the doors.
The Empress fled.
The scene on the mirror vanished.
Thomas and Anna stood surprised and be-
wildered, At length Anna said—“I am
a
54 GEASP ALL, LOSE ALL.
sorry for the Emperor and the beautiful
Empress, but I wonder how they lost their
power and grandeur ; and one had to become
a prisoner, the other an exile !â€
A voice like that of the dwarf, which they
fancied came from behind the mirror, said—
“The emperor was not contented with all
the power and magnificence that he had. He
wanted more, and so he lost all.â€
“Why was he not contented?†said
Thomas. “It seems to me that he had
everything he could wish for.â€
The voice answered, “ He was not con-
tented with ruling his own empire, he wanted
to meddle with other countries, and to pre-
vent a neighbouring people from choosing
their own king.â€
“What right had he to do that?†asked
Thomas.
_ “Noright at all,†was the answer ; “neither
had he any right to make war on his neigh-
bour; and you saw what came of it.â€
* Great princes have great playthings. Some have play’d
At hewing mountains into men, and some
At building human wonders mountain high.
CONTENTMENT IS GREAT GAIN. 55
Some seek diversion in the tented field
And make the sorrows of mankind their sport.
But war’s a game which, were their subjects wise,
Kings would not play at.â€
Their grandmother's voice was heard call-
ing them, and they went downstairs.
“T see,†said Thomas, “that the Emperor
should have been contented when he was
well off, and that he should have left other
people in peace.â€
“Yes,†said Anna, “and he has lost his
crown by it, but that is the least thing to be
thought of. I see that when a king is discon-
tented, it hurts not only himself, but causes
the slaughter of thousands of people.â€
“Tt is well, then,†said Thomas, “that all
who have power over others should learn this
good commandment, ‘Be content with such
things as ye have.’â€
“Well,†said Anna, “after all, perhaps a
humble place is the best and happiest, if
people would only be contented with it.â€
CHAPTER XT.
STARVED IN THE MIDST OF PLENTY.
‘* Mother, why give into a stranger’s hand,
A task so much within your own command,
That God, and nature, and your interest too,
Seem with one voice to delegate to you?â€
WILL think no more of emperors
or princes,†said Thomas. “I
should not like to fall so quickly
from grandeur to a prison and exile. But I
do want to see now, a quiet, comfortable
home, where children would have plenty
without having too much, and then we may
hope they would be contented.â€
“ Let us look again into the glass to-night,â€
said Anna.
When the evening came, the children
looked again into the cupboard. They saw
in the glass a very comfortable room, well
THE NURSERY. 57
warmed and well lighted. There were in it
a father and mother and several children, all
enjoying themselves. The father seemed
very fond of his little children. He asked
them to sing him a song, and their sweet
voices were heard singing in chorus such
pleasant, merry words, that Thomas and
Anna were delighted.
“Well, we have at last seen a happy
family,†said Thomas.
“Wait a little,†said Anna; “we have
seen the bright side, but we have not yet
seen the dark side.â€
A haze as before came over the glass, and
the next scene showed the nursery in the
same house where they had seen the happy
family.
It was a comfortable room—well supplied
with everything that children could ‘want,
and there were toys in abundance. A baby
was crying as the mother of the family looked
into the room.
“ Please, ma’am, will you come to baby ?â€
58 A HIRELING
said a nurse; “he is crying so much for
you.â€
“Let him cry, it will do good to his lungs,â€
was the mother’s cool answer. “I have no
time to attend to him just now,†and she
went on downstairs, to talk to a gossiping
acquaintance who had just come to call.
Meantime, the poor baby was hungry—
starved when there was plenty for him.
The children’s dinner, consisting of good
soup, meat, and nice pudding, was placed on
the nursery table; two nurses were waiting -
to serve them, and the little people sat down
to eat the wholesome fare with good appetites.
A very small portion was served out to
each by the upper nurse, and then, like
Oliver Twist in the story, the hungry, eldest
boy ventured to ask for more.
“May Master Frank have more?†asked
the under nurse.
“On no account,†replied the head nurse ;
“little boys must not be greedy, he has had
quite enough.â€
‘ Don’t you know,†added the head nurse,
aside to her subordinate, “that we expect a
supper party to-night, after the children have
AND A DESPOT. 59
gone to bed. Cook is cross to-day, and won’t
give us anything, and we must put aside
that meat and pudding for our friends. If
Master Frank wants any more, he may have
a slice of bread, and he may think himself
well off to get that.
When Frank, the eldest and most favoured,
could get no more, the other children saw it
was vain for them to ask for any, and they rose
from the plentiful table, very hungry, while
their dinner was put carefully away for the
servant's supper party.
They were starved in the midst of plenty.
“T won’t stand this,†said Frank, the elder
boy, to Herbert, the next in age; “I am de-
termined to tell papa, and he won’t let us be
starved.â€
“ What is that you are saying?†said the
despotic nursé, giving Frank a terrible box
on the ear. “Don’t you know that this
nursery is just over the dining-room, and that
I can hear every word you say through the
floor? If you dare to say one word to your
papa about what is done here, I shall hear
you, and when you come up to bed, I will
beat you till you are half-dead.â€
60 NEGLECT OF DUTY.
The poor, pale, half-starved boy, rendered
frightened by frequent beatings—which were
often given him in a wood, in which the
children were sent to walk—was too terrified
to tell of his nurse’s misdeeds, and so the
\. mismanagement went on. The children, for
whom every comfort had been provided by a
kind, liberal, and affectionate father, were
beaten, ill-used, and halsianed and they
durst not tell.
Where, during all this time, was the
mother, whose dearest and highest duty it
ought to have been to look after her little
ones, instead of leaving them to hirelings.
She was dressing to go out; she was making
morning calls; she was gossiping with idle
acquaintances ; she was busy with her neigh-
bour’s affairs, while her little children were
being beaten or starved. And when she was
in the house, she was generally so absorbed
in novel reading, that she had no time for
her own children, though her feelings were
deeply interested for the imaginary woes of
others.
The result of the starvation was, that one
child had weak crooked legs, another was ex-
A CONTRAST. 61
tremely false and deceitful, and a third was so
nervous, as to be afraid to stay in a room alone.
They were removed from the mother, and
placed under other care, but the ill effects
were difficult to remedy.
“What a wicked woman that mother is,â€
said Thomas. “ It isa disgraceful thing that
she should think only of amusing herself, and
leave her poor little children to be starved.â€
“Perhaps she is not so wicked, as foolish
and thoughtless,†said gentle Anna.
“ At all events, she is selfish, and a selfish
person is wicked,†said Thomas. <“Tlow
different she is from the lonely lady !â€
“Well,†replied Anna, “these children,
though they ought to have every comfort, are
much more to be pitied than we are. I dare
say they would be glad to come here to live
with us, and our kind old grandmother, who
neither beats nor starves us.â€
CHAPTER XII.
SIMPLE PLEASURES.
‘* Not the rich nursery’ s costly toys
Such wealth of bliss can yield,
As childhood’s simple, priceless joys
Of tree, and rock, and field,
*“‘ The music of the singing birds,
‘i The fragrance of the flowers ;
The valley streams, the mountain herdg
The woodland’s leafy bowers.
‘* The sweet hoards of the honey bee,
The fruits that fenceless grow;
Wild winter’ s magic tracery
Of frost and fleecy snow.
‘*God’s beauteous earth is surely rife
With good in every part ;
With blessings for the outer life,
With lessons for the heart.â€
JHE next evening, the grandmother |
went early to bed. The children
felt half disinclined to look into the
glass; because they had been so often dis-
appointed, in their hope of seeing really happy
HUMBLE BUT HAPPY. 63
faces. Yet they thought they would try it
once again.
“That is our own house, and we ourselves!â€
exclaimed they, with one accord.
It was indeed so; but the room looked much
more comfortable and cheerful than it had
ever done since they remembered it. It was
much cleaner, the furniture better arranged,
the windows bright, and on the window sill
there were pretty evergreen plants in pots,
that contrasted pleasantly with the snow
without. In a wicker cage, such as Thomas
had often seen made by the country boys,
a little bird was hopping, which seemed to
think itself much better off in the warm
room than out in the snow, for it sang so
sweetly that it was a pleasure to hear it.
There sat the old grandmother at her wheel
with Anna and Thomas near her, no longer
tired and fretful as before. It amused the
children not a little to see their own shadows
in the glass, and to hear the merry sound of
a pleasant song which they had learned at
school; but which they had never felt cheer-
ful enough to sing at home. Even the grand-
mother seemed to hear some of the merry
F
64 FATHER COMING.
notes, for she looked up with a pleasant smile
and an approving nod.
When the song .was finished, the Thomas
in the glass brought out an old book which
the children knew well, for one like it had
been long lying covered with dust on a shelf
near their grandmother's bed. They remem-
bered a time when she used to read it, but
she could not do so now, even with the help
of her spectacles. The children looked much
astonished. They had learned to read it at
school, but they had always regarded it as a
lesson which they were compelled to do,
but had never thought of reading as a
pleasure. The Thomas in the glass began to
read loud enough for the grandmother to hear
him; at first he read no better than the real
Thomas could have done, but he improved
much as he went on, till at length he read
distinctly and well. He was reading the his-
tory of Joseph in the Bible, which the child-
ren had indeed heard before at school; but
not for along time. They heard it with new
and fresh interest, and then listened eagerly
to the Thomas in the glass, till the bark of a
dog was heard, exactly like the bark of their
A HAPPY FIRESIDE. 65
father’s dog “Watch.†“Then the Anna in
the glass sprang up quickly, placed a pair of
slippers before the fire, and hung up her
father’s coat on a chair ready for him.
When the father and Watch came in,
Thomas took the gun and put it away ina
corner, and helped him to take off his wet
coat, while Anna held the dry coat, and
brought him his warm slippers. The children
were rather ashamed when they looked at
their busy shadows, for they had allowed their
father to come in wet and weary many a time,
and had never thought of doing anything for
his comfort. The father in the picture looked
quite pleased with his active children, and
spoke to them, much more kindly than the
real father had been accustomed to do. He
sat down at the table, and the Anna in the
glass placed upon it some warm soup, and a
well cooked supper. The children knew that
their father when he came in, very often
found the fire out, and scarcely anything to
eat, for their grandmother had lost her memory
very much, and sometimes forgot to prepare
anything for him.
They all sat down together to supper, and
66 OF ONE MIND.
the father praised Anna’s cooking, and said’
she was becoming very like her dear mother.
who had cared for him so kindly when she
was alive. The whole party in the glass
looked so happy, and the scene so pleasant,
that the children were very sorry when their
grandmother called them downstairs.
That night, when they were talking to each
other of what they had seen, they both agreed
that it was pleasanter to work than to be idle,
and that the cottage would be more cheerful
if they tried to do their little daily duties
with contented hearts,
CHAPTER XIil.
A HAPPY HOME.
‘** Happy the home when God is there,
And love fills every breast ;
Where one their wish, and one their prayer,
And one their heavenly rest.
** Happy the home where prayer is heard,
And praise is wont to rise ;
Where parents love the sacred word,
And live but for the skies.†Mrs W.
%/HE next morning the children seemed
animated by a new spirit, Anna
set to work to clean the cottage ;
she arranged the furniture and rubbed it
well; cleaned the shelves and brightened the
windows, till her astonished grandmother
asked her, in a tone of surprise, “Is it a great
festival to-day?†It was not the season for
transplanting flowers; but Thomas brought
68 PUTTING IN PRACTICE.
a few green fir branches from the wood, with
which he decorated the room. Then, of their
own accord, the children offered to assist
their grandmother in preparing breakfast.
The poor old woman had been accustomed
to do all the work herself, and as she was
very feeble and forgetful, their meals were
often not particularly comfortable. This
morning, however, with Anna’s help, their
breakfast was nicely prepared, and they
enjoyed it more because they had been work-
ing, as hunger is always the best sauce.
Anna and her grandmother then began to
spin. Thomas climbed up to the shelf near
his grandmother’s bed and brought down the
old Bible, which was really as dusty as it
had appeared in the picture. After he had
wiped it carefully he began to read as well
as he could, and loud enough for his grand-
mother to hear him. The grandmother
ceased her spinning to listen. It was many
years since she had been able to go to church,
or to read even with her spectacles; and
now when she heard—for the first time from
her grandson’s lips—the precious word of God,
her heart melted, she folded her hands and
DELIGHTED SURPRISE. 69
looked kindly at Thomas with tears of joy in.
her eyes.
The boy was quite delighted when he saw
the effect of his reading—he was encouraged
to go on, and Anna listened as she went on
with her work; and they scarcely noticed
how quickly the morning was passing away,
till their grandmother rose as usual to pre-
pare the potatoes for their mid-day meal.
Then Thomas sprang up, saying, “Wait,
grandmother, I will help you.†He hastened
to bring water from the spring, and to stir
up the fire while Anna washed the potatoes
put them on to boil, and warmed the soup ;
so that their grandmother had nothing to do,
and she sat with her hands folded, looking at
the active children with delighted surprise.
Thomas and Anna thought this dinner the
best they had ever tasted. In the afternoon
they began to sing, while Anna cleared the
table and washed the dishes. They began
in low and hesitating voices, which soon —
became louder and clearer, and their grand-
mother listened at first as in a dream, and
smiled as she had not done for years.
How glad Thomas and Anna were when
70 A GLAD FATHER.
their father came home! How surprised the
father was to see the room look so clean and
cheerful, and to be carefully waited upon as
he had never been before since his wite
died.
Everything happened as it had appeared
in the glass; the father-put on the coat and
slippers which his children had aired and
warmed for him, enjoyed the supper which
Anna had cooked, thanked the children
kindly, and then began to tell them stories
about the mother they had lost. The grand-
mother looked pleased, and now--and then
joined in the conversation. Before it was
time to go to bed she said to the father,
“You should hear how well Thomas can
read,†and she brought out an old book
arranged for family worship. Thomas read
a short passage clearly and well. The father,
who for many a year had neglected family
prayer, listened with pride and joy to his
boy’s reading—his heart was touched by the
pious words spoken in his child’s voice, so
when Thomas came to the prayer, they all
knelt down, and when it was finished, the
father himself said the Lord’s Prayer.
NO PLACE LIKE HOME. 1
The children had never gone to sleep so
happy as on this night.
From the time when the children had
first enjoyed the pleasure of caring for others,
they felt that the secret of contentment is
honest work and loving service—to do our
duty in the. state of life in which it has
pleased God to place us. The holy words of
the Bible brought gladness into their hearts,
and the lonely cottage in the wood became a
home of joy and peace.
The children cared less: now about the
magic glass ;-they had too much to do to have
time to spend upon it, and they thought it
could show them no pleasanter picture than |
their own dear home.
When the pleasant spring time came, the
cottage was often decked with beautiful wild
flowers. The children saved the crumbs to
throw to the birds who soon knew them, and
warbled merrily among the trees round the
cottage. In summer and autumn they
gathered wild fruits and berries, some of
which Anna preserved for their winter store.
Thomas gathered large baskets of beech nuts,
and learned how to extract the oil from them,
72 ACTIVITY AND INDUSTRY.
so that they had a good supply for their
winter lamp.
Their kind godmother, who observed their
activity and industry, gave Thomas a present
of a hive of bees, and she also gave a few
fowls to Anna, and sent one of her servants
to teach the children how to manage them.
In the next season they had honey and a few
eggs and chickens to sell in the village, and
in this way they procured many little com-
forts for their old grandmother. The forester
allowed Thomas to cultivate a little bit of
waste ground near the cottage, and here he
was soon able to raise, not only vegetables
for their own use, but in time he had also
some for sale.
In after years, when both his father and
orandmother were dead, Thomas went out
into the world, bound himself apprentice to
a carpenter, and became a clever and in-
dustrious workman. He was able in time
to start on his own account; he built many
a good house for others, and at length a
pleasant cottage for himself.
Anna was taken home by her godmother
when her grandmother died, and she became
SECRET OF HAPPINESS. 73
a skilful and valuable servant. Some years
afterwards she married a young farmer, and
was the mother of well brought up children.
They were all their lives contented with
what it had pleased God to give them.
Anna told her children the story of the
magic glass, and when they saw magnificent
houses, splendid rooms, rich dresses, and
costly delicacies, they coveted them not.
They remembered that these things could
not in themselves give pleasure, and they
thought that perhaps their owners were
discontented like the prince, or quarrelsome
and sickly like the other children they had
geen.
Do all our young readers try to make their
home a happy one as Thomas and. Anna did?
There is much pleasure to be found in the
right performance of daily duty in the fear
of God. Willing work and loving service
bring happiness. The moral of this little
story, is that,
‘Godliness with contentment is great gain.â€
A
DAY IN THE LIFE OF A CHILD KING.
“*No sooner was I crept out of my cradle,
But I was made a king, at nine months old:
Was never subject long’d to be a king,
As I do long and wish to be a subject.â€
SHAKESPEARE,
ESNANE day towards the end of the year
@ 1715, early in the morning, a
wseA!} child five years old, who had
been asleep in a magnificent room in the
castle of Vincennes, awoke suddenly and
looked towards a man who was reclining in
a large easy chair near the bed. By the
light of a bronze lamp suspended from the
ceiling, the child saw that the man was
asleep; and after having coughed several
times, as if hesitating whether he would
disturb the sleeper, he called out:
.
THE KING AWAKES. 75
“ Comtois! Comtois!â€
“Sire,†replied Comtois, rising quickly, and
going to the side of the bed.
“Will you look if much snow has fallen
last night.â€
Without making any observation, Comtois
went to the window, opened the heavy silken
curtains, and replied:
“A great deal of snow has fallen, sire.â€
The young king, who, from his bed when
the curtain was drawn back, could see the
ercund, and*the trees in the park of Vin-
cennes, completely white, exclaimed :
“How delightful! Oh! let me rise
quickly, Comtois; quick, quick, dress me:
make haste, Comtois !â€
“Why does your majesty wish to rise so
early?†said Comtois, seating himself again
in his arm-chair.
“Do you not know that I have a great
battle to fight this morning, Comtois? I am
sure that the enemy is already under arms!
I do not wish him to get before me.â€
“The enemy sleeps, sire ; if your majesty
will take my advice, you will try to do the
same.†G
76 AN ARDENT COMMANDE?.
“Sleep, on a day of battle! Such a thing
was never heard of, as my cousin Orleans
says. Let me get up, Comtois,†replied the
child, impatiently.
“Will it please your majesty to compose
yourself and be good; Madame de Ventadour
has forbidden me to allow you to rise so early.â€
“But I, Louis XV., king of France, I com-
mand you.â€
“But your majesty must understand—â€
“T understand nothing, I wild get up,†said
Louis XV. angrily; “the young Duke of
Chartres challenged me yesterday; he is at
the head of one party, I am at the head of
another; he must be at his post. You are too
reasonable, Comtois, to wish that your king
should appear lazy or cowardly in the eyes of
his subjects.â€
“There is no fear of that, sire; it is well-
known that the kings of your family have
never been lazy nor cowardly.â€
“Then let me get up before the sun rises,
for it will melt my arms.â€
“What arms have you then chosen, sire,
which melt in the sun? They are certainly
SNOWBALLS. 17
not the same which were used by your grand-
. father Louis XIV., nor those used by his
grandfather, Henry IV.â€
“Certainly not,†said Louis XV. laughing,
“my arms are merely snowballs.
You must not laugh, Comtois, for a good snow-
ball well thrown gives a black eye, or makes
a large lump on the forehead.â€
“T do not doubt it, sire,’ said Comtois,
smiling.
“You shall be present at the battle, Com-
tois; I will allow you to go, and you shall see
how grand it will be. We shall be divided
into two camps, the Duke de Chartres is to
command one, and I am to command the
other; I have the best gentlemen under my
orders, the Comte de Ferandy, the Duke de
Harcourt, the Comte de Clermont, the Mar-
quises de Nesle and de Nangis. Oh! I could
scarcely sleep for the pleasure of thinking of
it, and I dreamed of snowballs, attacks,
ambuscades. . . . . I have thought of
such skilful manceuvres. . . . . But
come and dress me, Comtois; the sun wil]
melt the snow, and I shall have no arms, and
those who fight under my banner must be
78 AN UNWELCOME VISITOR.
waiting for me on the field of battle. I have
promised them the victory, and how can I
keep my promise if you will not dress me?
How unhappy kings are when they cannot
make themselves be obeyed!â€
A gentle knock at the door of the room
was heard; Comtois opened it, and saw with |
astonishment the Duke of Villeroy enter, who
was the governor of the young king.
“Ts the king awake?†asked the Maréchal.
“He has been most anxious to rise for
more than an hour, my Lord,†replied the
valet de chambre.
The Maréchal de Villeroy then advanced
to the side of the child’s bed.
“Sire,†said he to. him, “it is to-day that
the Duke of Orleans is to be appointed regent
of the kingdom; it is necessary that your
majesty should make a short speech on the
occasion; do me the honour to listen to me,
I entreat you, for this speech must be learned
by heart to be repeated before all the Court.â€
“J will do it, my governor,†replied Louis,
whose timidity was extreme, and who did
not venture to siow the displeasure that he
felt at this dela:
A SPEECH BY ROTE. 79
“Listen to me attentively, sire; repeat
after me: ‘ We declare,
“ My governor, do you think that when the
sun rises the snow will melt?†interrupted
Louis, so intent on the view of the park,
sparkling in the rays of the early morning
sun, that he had not even heard the words of
Villeroy.
“It is very possible, sire,†replied he, with
an impatient gesture ; “but please to repeat
what I pane ‘We declare the Duke of
Orleans’ :
“We declare the ee of Orleans,†said
Louis. Then, in the same tone, he added,
* Comtois, look if the snow is very hard.â€
“That is of no consequence, sire,†inter-
rupted the governor, without disguising the
displeasure that he felt at the inattention of
the child king; “let us go on.†‘ We declare
the Duke of Orleans regent of the kingdom’†. .
“TI am sure that the Duke de Chartres
has a whole pile of snowballs made by this
time.â€
“Tf you do not attend to me, sire,†said
M. de Villeroy in a severe tone, “you will
“never know your speech.â€
80 NOT AN AMUSING PART.
“T should like better to go into the
park with the other children, than to learn
a speech,†murmured Louis, in a petulant
tone.
“You shall go after the ceremony, sire.â€
“But the snow will be melted, and I shall
not be oe to make snowballs, my dear
governor.â€
“Well! you will not make them, sire.â€
“And my battle; and my warriors; and
only to think that the other children are
amusing themselves while I am shut up here
in my room.â€
“Kines are not like other children, sire;
they cannot always run about and amuse
themselves.â€
“Then it is not at all amusing to be a
king, my dear governor.â€
“Come, sire! do learn your speech, you
ought to have known it an hour ago.â€
“Tf you will at least assure me that the
snow will not melt.â€
“Do you wish that I should assure you
of that? Well, let it be so, sire; but now
do listen to me,†said M. de Villeroy, no
longer able to control his impatience.
OTHER VISITORS. 81
“JT will attend to you now,†said Louis in
a subdued tone.
Pleased at this proof of docility, the Maré-
chal sat down near the bed of Louis, and
repeated to him phrase by phrase a very
short speech, which his pupil said correctly
after him; he then retired, certain that
Louis XV. would play his part well in the
ceremonial of the day.
When Louis saw the door closed behind
his governor he jumped for joy.
“ Now for the park !†exclaimed he.
“Here are Madame de Ventadour and your
tutor,†said Comtois, introducing these per-
sonages into the room, followed by several
servants carrying the full dress of a éhild. All
the articles of dress were pompously displayed
upon the chairs in the room, and attracted
the attention of the young king; he thought
that with the new dress he would be more like
the commander-in-chief in the battle.
“How beautiful it is! Are you going to
put all this on me, my dear mamma ?†said
he to his governess, whom he loved much,
and to whom he had given the sweet name
of mother.
82 LEADING STRINGS.
“Certainly my dear king,†said she; “is
it not a magnificent dress ?â€
“How pleased my companions will be to
serve under my orders,†said Louis, looking
at it with satisfaction.
It was a short robe made in folds with
falling sleeves of purple cloth, for Louis XV.
was in mourning for his grandfather, Louis
XIV., and purple was the colour worn in
mourning by kings. Then they put on his
head a cap of purple crape lined and trimmed
with cloth of gold; they passed over his
shoulder a blue ribbon, to which was sus-
pended the cross of the order of St Louis.
Till then all was going on well, the child
forgot when looking at his splendid dress the
annoyance he had suffered; he was longing
to be ready to escape from the hands of his
governess, and he asked Comtois to get his
little sword that he might go to fight, when
to his great surprise Madame de Ventadour —
presented to him superb leading strings of
cloth of gold.
“What have you there, mamma ?†said he.
“They are leading strings,†replied she.
“And what are you going to do with them?â€
AN INDIGNANT PROTEST, 83
“To put them on you, sire.â€
“Leading strings on me! Impossible; it
is a jest, mamma I ey shall not
allow them to be put on.â€
“T am sorry you dislike them, my dear
king; but it has been decided that, to mark
your age, they must be worn.â€
“T will not put them on, my dear mamma,
why should I? Are not my limbs strong
enough to support me? See how firmly I
can walk; are you afraid I shall fall? You
do not put leading strings on me when I run
about in the wood, or when I go up and
down stairs; and you wish to put them on
when I am to go in a carriage, and then be
seated safely in an arm-chair. No, thank
you, mamma; it is not reasonable; leading
strings are put only on little infants.â€
“They know well that you are not an
infant, sire. Certainly, when you are five
years and seven months old you are no
longer an infant; but what is to be done?
It is an old custom; etiquette requires that
when you are in full dress you should wear
leading strings, until your education is en-
tirely intrusted to men.â€
84 KINGS ARE DIFFERENT.
“Custom! etiquette! you are always say-
ing these words, dear mamma. The custom
ought to be to put leading strings only on
little children who cannot walk; and I
flatter myself that I walk as well as you do,
mamma. If you wish to put leading strings
on any one, put them on some of the old
lords of the court; on the Duke de Bouillon
who can scarcely stand upon his legs; on
the old bishop of Troyes who stumbles at
each step; or on the Maréchal d’Uxelles
who goes crooked; they require them, but
certainly Z will not put them on.â€
“T entreat you, sire!â€
“Speak no more of it, my dear mamma,
the sun has risen; do not detain me longer;
I have a battle to fight this morning, and
my snowballs are not yet made.â€
“Your leading strings will not spoil the
battle, sire; please to put them on.â€
“But none of the other children have any,
mammia.â€
“They are not kings as you are, sire.â€
“It is a most wearisome thing to be a
king. My kingdom has caused me three
troubles this morning; the delay of the
FLEURY INTERFERES. 85
battle, a long speech to learn by heart, and
these ugly leading strings that you wish to
tie on my arms; but I am determined not
to wear them.â€
“™M. de Fleury,†said Madame de Ventadour
to the King’s tutor, who was reading near
the window, “will you come and make the
King listen to reason.â€
“M. de Fleury,†said the child in his turn,
“since you are standing there near the
window, tell me if the snow has begun to
melt.â€
“Not yet,†said M. de Fleury, approaching
the fire, before which Madame de Ventadour
was in vain attempting to put the leading
strings on the young King. “Why do you
resist your governess? Come, give me your
hand, sire; do so with good grace, and try to
give pleasure to Madame de Ventadour, by
doing what you must do at last, willingly or
unwillingly.
“But, my tutor, remember that I wish to
go to the park,†said Louis, with his heart
full, and tears in his eyes; “I have snowballs
to make.†:
“You have duties first to fulfil, sire, more
86 SETTING OUT.
than any other child. As the son of a prince,
and yourself a king, you ought to show a
good example to others. Begin to-day to
do so, by yielding to the wish of your gover-
ness; raise your arms, sire, I entreat you .
well; now the other . . . . now it is
done; I thank you very much.â€
“Tf kings are happy, it is not always when
they are children,†said Louis XV., weeping,
as he looked at the: golden girdle of the
leading strings which was round his waist.
“You are right, sire,’ replied M. de Fleury ;
“they are happier at a later period, especially
when they make their people happy.â€
“The carriage of the King is ready,†said
a gentleman-in-waiting, after the King had
breakfasted.
Then Madame de Ventadour rose, took the
king by the hand, and walked with him to
the great staircase of the castle. M. de
Fleury and the pages followed, and thus in
procession they descended the staircase. The
carriage of the King, with eight horses, was
waiting at the door.
The cold was keen and piercing; and Louis
XV., far from complaining of it, was de-
A POINT OF PRECEDENCE. 87
lighted. He thought he could have his battle
when he returned. With this hope, he gaily
mounted the steps of the carriage, and pa-
tiently waited for M. de Villeroy and the
Duke de Maine, who were both to go in the
carriage with the King.
They presented themselves at the steps at
the same time, and the foot of the one having
knocked against the foot of the other, they
looked at each other fiercely.
“T have the honour to point out to the
Maréchal de Villeroy,†said the Duke de
Maine, “that, as a prince of the blood, I
have a right to the place of honour in the
carriage of his majesty.â€
“T have the honour to point out to the
Duke de Maine,†said the Maréchal de Vil-
leroy, without drawing back a step, “that as
governor of the king, I have a right to the
place by his side, and will yield it only to a
legitimate prince of the blood, and not to the
Duke de Maine.â€
“We shall see!†exclaimed the Duke, at-
tempting to get into the carriage, but he was
held back by the Maréchal.
During this discussion, thea King was
H
88 SEEING THE BATTLE.
shivering with cold, and anxious that the
carriage door should be shut. “ Gentlemen,â€
said he, “you may both sit on the back seat;
I will go myself on the front seat.â€
“ That cannot be, sire,†replied his governor.
“Well, then,†said the young King, im-
patiently, “either draw lots as to who shall
sit by my side, or place yourselves both in
the front seat.â€
The last advice of the King was followed,
and the carriage started off at a rapid pace
The Maréchal de Villeroy then asked the
young King if he had not forgotten his speech.
Louis was too much absorbed to answer
him. They were passing near the spot that
had been fixed for the great battle, in which
the poor child had hoped to take an active
part. He looked sorrowfully at the dazzling
white snow, which would make such beau-
tiful snowballs; then he perceived at a dis-
stance, through the trees, his little com-
panions running here and there, fighting the
battle of which he had dreamed all night.
He saw them attacking, defending, rolling
on the ground, and throwing large snow-balls
at each other. He heard their cries of joy,
“TT CANNOT BE HELPED.†89
their noisy laughter, and their shouts of
victory. Ata turn in the avenue, the field
of battle appeared, with its fortifications of
nll kinds, the sentinels at their posts, the
wnunitions of war—that is to say, piles of
snow-balls. The poor little heart of Louis
swelled, and tears rolled down his cheeks,
at the idea of all he would have enjoyed if
he had not been kept a prisoner since the
morning. He thought that he had now pro-
bably lost it altogether; for the sun was now
high and would doubtless melt the snow be-
fore the end of the ceremony would set him
it liberty. +
“What are you thinking of, sire?†asked
the Maréchal de Villeroy.
Without replying, Louis pointed with his
finger to the field of battle, and his large
black eyes, filled with tears, expressed such
deep regret at not being there, mingled with
reproach for the constraint’ which was ex-
ercised over him, that the Maréchal was
touched by it. _
“Tt cannot be helped, sire,†said he, re-
peating what M. de Fleury had said before :
“The children of kings are not like other
90 IN THE TUILERIES.
children; they have duties to fulfil; and as
they ought to give an example to. others,
they cannot be permitted to neglect any
duty.â€
When they reached the suburb of St
Antoine, crowds of people were assembled
at the windows and in the streets to see the
king pass. They let down the windows of
the carriage; and at his governor’s request,
Louis bowed to the people, and was received
with acclamations of joy. The poor little
boy was pale and sad, shivering with cold,
and unable to forget his lost battle.
Thus he arrived at the palace of the
Tuileries. At the steps of.the carriage the
chief equerry took the king in his arms and
carried him to the door of the great chamber
of the parliament; then the Duke de Tresme,
holding the office of high chamberlain, took
him up in his turn, and placed him upon his
throne, at the foot of which Madame de
Ventadour was already seated.
“Mamma de Ventadour!†said he, when
he saw her; and for the first time that day
he smiled.
“Hush!†said his governess, reminding
A PRINCELY BOY. 91
him by an expressive glance of the assembly
in which he was.
As if he had understood the solemnity of
the occasion, Louis XV. put on a serious air,
which was natural to him, and suited the
regularity of his features; then he began to
look around upon the imposing spectacle
presented by the court of France assembled
in full court-dress,
He was the centre on which every eye
was fixed, and a more beautiful boy could
not have been seen than this royal child.
His complexion was fresh and fair, his large
black eyes were shaded with long brown
eyelashes, his ‘nose was well formed, his
pretty little mouth had a haughty and wilful
expression, his long brown hair fell in curls
on his shoulders, and his upright, well-
formed figure gave him an air of royalty,
mingled with the grace of childhood. Stand-
ing upon his throne, waiting with patience
and dignity for the beginning of the cere-
mony, it raight have been said that he felt
perfectly the importance of his position.
The King having been the last to arrive, he
was no sooner in his place than all the train
92 THE COURT.
of courtiers began to move on, the ministers
af state followed; and each one, as he passed
before the King, stopped and made a speech
to him. These speeches had all one striking
point of resemblance—that was, their inter-
minable length, a most annoying circum-
stance to the poor young King. Notwith-
standing, he behaved well, and listened with
a degree of quietness that might have been
taken for attention. Nevertheless, the atten-
tion of the child King was really fixed upon
a window opposite, through which he could
see the branches of a few trees covered with
snow. He was thinking much more of the
games of his little comrades, than of the grave
harangues which were addressed to him.
When the time came when he was to
make his speech, the Maréchal de Villeroy,
who stood near him, whispered in his ear,
and asked if he remembered what he had
learned by heart in the morning.
“Perfectly,†replied he.
“This is the time to say it aloud, sire,â€
said the Maréchal; “do not be afraid, raise
your voice well, I am beside you.â€
Then, with perfect grace, but with a de-
SPEECH FROM THE THRONE. 93
gree of timidity which he could not quite
overcome, Louis XV. pronounced slowly and
correctly the following words:
“ We, King of France and of Navarre, de-
clare the Duke of Orleans Regent of the king-
dom, to administer the affairs of our States
during our minority, conformably to the Act
of Parliament of the 2d of September.â€
As a sign of his gratitude, the Duke of
Orleans came forward to thank the King, and
to kiss his hand; then the council of the
tegency was named, consisting of the follow-
ing noblemen:
The Duke of Orleans,
The Duke de Maine.
The Maréchal de Villeroy.
_ The Duke de Bourbon.
The Count de Toulouse.
The Chancellor of France,
The Maréchal d’Uxelles.
_ The Maréchal d'Harcourt.
The Maréchal de Besons.
The Duke de Saint Simon.
The Bishop de Troyes.
Each member of the Council in turn
thanked the King, and kissed his hand.
Then followed the taking of the oaths of
94. AN OBJECT OF INTEREST.
allegiance, and every one had a speech to
make to the young King. The ceremony
seemed endless, every one was fatigued, and
it was altogether insupportable to the child.
He listened to nothing they said, and weari-
ness made him cross. His eyes were fixed
on the door, as if he were meditating how he
could escape. He rose up, sat down again,
yawned, played with the cross which was
hanging to his blue riband; then throwing it
down, he did not disguise his bad temper and
restlessness, Suddenly an object seemed to
attract his attention; his eyes were fixed on a
corner of the hall, with a comical and amused
expression. The Maréchal, who was watching
every movement of his pupil, saw that what
had attracted his attention was the Cardinal
de Noailles, a prelate who was extremely ugly,
and who looked more ugly still in his red
dress. Louis did not know him, as the
Cardinal had been forbidden to appear at the
court by the old King, Louis XIV.
Fearing that the fixed stare of the young
King might displease the old courtier, the
Maréchal whispered to him, “Do not keep
your eyes fixed in one direction sire.â€
BREAKING DOWN. 95
“Yes, I choose to do it,†returned the
King.
“It is not polite,†replied the governor.
“So much the worse,†said the King.
“But it is very naughty, sire.â€
“Tam very sorry, but it amuses me, my
povernor.â€
“Listen to the gentleman who is speaking
to you.â€
It was the Prevét of the merchants of
Paris, a little fat man who had been speaking
for an hour, and whose strong voice gave
evidence that he could still speak for a long
time without fatigue.
‘‘He wearies me,†replied Louis crossly,
“leave me alone.â€
“But sire, I cannot leave you alone,
replied the Maréchal; “you are not here to
amuse yourself.â€
“Oh! my beautiful snow,†said the young
King, whose disappointment was recalled by
the word “amuse.â€
“You must not think of that, sire, but
attend to what is passing here. Keep your-
self upright, sire, and do not look so cross.â€
The Previt of the merchants having finished
96 FAIRLY GIVING WAY.
his speech, another succeeded. At the first
word that he uttered, Louis, not being able to
restrain himself longer, burst into tears,
exclaiming, “leave me, leave me, let me
alone!â€
But notwithstanding his tears and his cries,
the ceremony continued. It was not finished
till late in the day, and Louis when he got
into his carriage, and drove again across the
park, experienced a new disappointment.
The snow was melting !
“Oh! my battle, my snowballs!†cried he,
weeping bitterly, while his attendants in vain
attempted to console him.
Then, as if to increase his annoyance, he
met on the staircase of the castle of Vin-
cennes many of his little companions laugh-
ing and talking, and relating to each other
the adventures of the day; they were ruddy
and merry, and when Louis passed near them
with his pale sad face, not one of them envied
the lot of the young King of France.
“Who gained the battle?†asked Louis,
still weeping.
“The Duke de Chartres, replied they ; “but
the Marquis de Nesle fought very well too.â€
UNHAPPY. 97
“Come and tell me all about it,†said the
King.
“ Sire, after you have dined, it will be time
for you to retire,†replied Madame de Ven-
tadour.
“Well, let me sit up later,†said Louis, in
a cross tone.
“That el be; sire; your gentlemen are
waiting for you.â€
“How wearisome it is ws be a king!†said
Louis XV. in tears, but Aeverne leas follow-
ing his governess, who conducted him to his
apartment.
“Am [not unhappy? In the summer, when
it is fine weather, and it would be so pleasant
to walk about, they make me remain in the
castle.â€
“Ah! sire,†replied his governess, when he
was retiring for the night, “do you not go out
when you like?â€
“Yes, indeed, I have not forgotten the day
of the féte at St Germain. I was standing
at the window, and I saw a number of child-
ren passing and looking so happy. I asked
you where they were going; you told me, to-
the fair. I asked you what the fair was:
"92
98 VERY DREARY.
you told me that people were amusing them-
selves under the trees—that they were selling
playthings, and plenty to eat and drink ; then
in the evening, I saw the children coming
back with toys, and cakes in their hands. I
was extremely anxious to go to the fair, but
you were ill, and I was obliged to stay at
home.
“You shall go next year, sire.â€
“Then in winter,†continued the king,
“there is no better amusement than running
on the snow and making snowballs, and to-day
they have made me lose the finest battle in
world. When will any more snow fall ?â€
“Come, sire, do not think of it any more,
but go to sleep.â€
“Tam not sleepy, but like everything else
you tell ine, it is the hour, I must go to sleep,
because I am a king.â€
“Be comforted, sire,†replied his governess ;
“when you are older you will be happier.â€
Alas! as she said this, Madame de Ven-
tadour could not help sighing, for she did not
believe what she said.
She knew very well that the King was cer-
tainly not the happiest man in France, and
WHERE TO SEEK HAPPINESS. 99
notwithstanding the common saying, “as
happy as a king,†we have but to read the
history of kings to know that their lot is not
always an enviable one.
A good king is happy, not because he is a
king, but because he is a good man. True
happiness does not consist in any earthly
thing, and can only be found by seeking it
in the way the Bible directs us. “Whoso
trusteth in the Lord, happy is he,†Prov.
xvi. 20. “Happy is the man that findeth
wisdom,†that is, the true wisdom taught of
God. “Happy is he that hath mercy on
the poor,†Prov. xvi. 21. The secret of
happiness is summed up by our Lord, in
the beginning of His Sermon on the Mount;
and those who wish for true and lasting
happiness, should study and pray to be
enabled to practise these beatitudes.
FRANK'S CASTLE IN THE AIR.
a village in Germany, there once
lived a shoemaker, named Frank
ited} Muller. His cottage was situ-
ated on the slope of a hill which commanded
a magnificent view. In the foreground
was a little garden, beyond which rose a steep
rocky hill on which were the ruins of an old
castle.
The cottage in which Frank lived had
been, the dowry of his wife Margaret. These
fields produced enough for their support, and
their cottage was a charming dwelling. It
was covered with roses and jasmine, and the
little garden was filled with the choicest
flowers.
Frank and Margaret were perfectly con-
A NOBLE PATRON. 101
tented. Every day they thanked the Tord
for their daily bread, and for all the blessings
He gave them. But the gladness and quiet
happiness in the house of Frank Muller sud-
denly passed away. The joyous songs ceased ;
there was a mournful silence instead.
How did it happen that Frank had all at
once become discontented ?
A nobleman came every year to pass the
summer in his country-house near the village.
One morning he sent for Frank Muller, and
said.to him: “I have heard that you are a
good shoemaker. I want you to make me
a pair of slippers, and if they are well made,
I will give you my custom.â€
Then, turning to a footman, the nobleman
added: “Give Muller one of my old slippers
for a pattern.†The servant gave Muller a
good dinner, and also gave him an old slipper
for a pattern, wrapped up in a newspaper.
When Frank quitted the nobleman’s house,
he was so elated at the prospect of having
the nobleman’s custom that he already fan-
cied himself the proprietor of a splendid
shop, with a flourishing business, in some
great town.
102 DAY-DREAMING.
When he entered his cottage, there was an ~
air of so much importance in his countenance
that Margaret could not help laughing.
“Do not laugh, Margaret. This is no joke.
There will be a great change in our circum-
stances, Iam to get this nobleman’s custom,
if the slippers I have to make please him,
and then I may become rich.â€
Margaret interrupted him. She guessed
what he was going to say, and asked:
“Why do you wish to be rich? Are we
not now as happy as we can be?â€
Frank shrugged his shoulders, slowly un-
folded the parcel which he held, took out the
old slipper, put it upon the table, and then
sat down near the window to read the news-
paper in which it had been wrapped. Mar-
garet took up the slipper, which was an
embroidered one. She admired†the beauty
‘ of the pattern, and the brilliancy of the
colours. “It is very elegant,†said she. “I
have never seen more beautiful work in my
life.â€
Frank made no answer, he was so absorbed
in what he was reading in the newspaper.
He suddenly rose from his seat, uttering an
A NEW GOLD MINE. 103
exclamation of delight. “Oh, Margaret,
Margaret!†said he, “I see now how we
can get rich at once.â€
This time Margaret did not laugh; she
looked anxiously at Frank, and thought he
had lost his senses.
“Yes, Margaret,†continued he, “we may
get rich at once without all this toiling. A
new gold mine has been discovered in New
Zealand. A company has been formed to
work it, and those who purchase shares will
soon become rich by the large profits.
Frank then read as follows:
“The entrance to the gold mine looked like
a deep hole on the side of a barren mountain,
a home for sea-birds and nothing else.
Through this doorway of dirt Eldorado lay. |
Through this entrance there came two tons
weight of melted gold in two months, and
the rich yield still continues. Daily, month
after month, £10,000 were brought up out of
this hole.â€
“TI don’t believe all this to be possible.
They only put these things in the newspapers
for the purpose of deceiving people,†said
Margaret.
104 ANGER AND DISCONTENT.
“But the man who wrote this really visited
the mine,†answered Frank.. “So what he
says must be true.â€
“You hear, Margaret, how rich any one will
be who has a share in this mine,†said Frank.
“How can you get a share in this? What
do you mean to do?†answered Margaret.
“T mean to sell all that we possess,†said
Frank, “J shall not only be able to pur-
chase shares in this rich mine, but, perhaps,
I may find a new mine also.â€
“Oh! Frank, you cannot think of doing
such a thing,†exclaimed Margaret.
“IT have made up my mind to do it,â€
answered he. “I am determined to go.â€
“T will never consent to it; the property
is mine, and you have no right to sell it,â€
replied Margaret. Frank knew that this
was true; and with an angry glance at his
wife, he went sullenly to his work; but from
this moment there was neither pleasure nor
contentment in their once happy home. One
evening Frank sat alone by the window of
their pleasant parlour. He was, as usual,
discontented, restless, and feverish. He
opened the window and looked out, hoping
DREAM OF THE NIGHT. 105
that the cool breeze would refresh him. A
beautiful prospect met his eyes: the stars
were shining brilliantly in the sky, the
moon had just risen from behind the ruins
of the castle, and her silver beams were
lighting up the landscape, and making the
lovely prospect still more beautiful. The
little stream was babbling merrily, and the
song of the nightingale amongst the trees
sounded even more sweetly than usual.
“Oh !†exclaimed Frank, “everything looks
beautiful, the birds are singing sweetly, all
looks joyous around me—I alone am sad.
There is no hope for me but work, work,
work i with poverty and misery at the end.
How I should like to be rich!â€
He threw himself into a chair, and in the
course of a short time fellasleep. He fancied
that he saw the coor slowly open, and the
ficure of a dwarf appear on the threshold.
“ Frank,†said he, “ I have heard your com-
plaints. If you wish to be rich, follow me.â€
Frank followed the dwarf without fear,
scarcely conscious of what he was doing. He
passed over the meadows, crossed the mur-
auring brook, and entered the dark wood
106 CASTLE IN THE AIR.
It seemed as if the thick brushwood opened
of its own accord to make way for them,
and they at last came to a green spot before
the steep rock on which stood the ruins of
the old castle which has been mentioned.
The dwarf touched the rock, and, to the
astonishment of Frank, a staircase appeared
cut out of the solid stone. They ascended
the steps as quickly as if they were borne on
the wings of the wind, and soon reached the
summit of the rock. The castle no longer
appeared a ruin. They passed through a
magnificent vestibule, and entered a large
hall, brilliantly lighted up and adorned with
marble statues and magnificent furniture.
The walls were covered with rich tapestry.
There was a large party of guests assembled,
all gaily dressed. In the middle of the hall
there was a table covered with papers, and
several large boxes. Near it stood a man
dressed in black. He bowed to Frank, and
beckoned to him to approach the table ; then
opening the boxes, and showing Frank that
they were filled with gold, the man in black,
who was a lawyer, said—
“ Frank Muller, it has just been discovered
MASTERED BY AVARICE. 107
that this castle and all the extensive lands
around it, together with this gold, belong to
you. You are the lawful heir of the late
Count
Before Frank could hear the name of the
noble family to which it was said he belonged,
the speech of the lawyer was interrupted by
the voices of the ladies and gentlemen who
crowded round Frank to congratulate him.
“T feel already,†thought Frank, “how
pleasant it is to be rich. When I was poor,
none of these grand people would have taken
the least notice of me, and now they all flatter
me because I am wealthy. The evening
passed so pleasantly that hours seemed as
minutes to Frank, At length the gay com-
pany took their leave, and left Frank alone
with his servants in his grand castle. How
lie gloated over his riches! He spent his
time in counting his gold. The clergyman
called on him, but was refused admittance
—the poor came to ask alms, and were sent
away.
Alone with his gold, Frank was neither
happy nor contented. He missed Margaret’s
pleasant smile and kindly words. He lived
108 DECEITFULNESS OF RICHES.
in constant terror of thieves. He was quite
miserable.
“T have discovered,†thought he, “that
riches do not always make one happy. They
dazzle the eyes, and those who have them not
long for them, but often they fill the heart
with bitterness. I was happier when I was
in my old cottage. I wish. that the dwarf
would take me back to my old home!â€
He had scarcely said these words, when he
found himself suddenly standing on the edge
of the rock on which the castle was built.
There was a dark mist over the landscape,
which cleared away in small patches here and
there, and let him see something of the scenes
below. He saw the church and parsonage in
bad repair; he saw the cottages of the poor
scarcely habitable; he marked the half-
starved appearance of their inhabitants ; he
saw all that he could have done and ought
to have done with his gold, but which he had
left undone.
He looked eagerly, as each change in the
mist showed him a different picture, to descry
if he could see his own old home. He saw
it at last. His faithful Margaret was there
A WAKING. 109
as of old, but the wrinkles of sorrow ‘were on
her brow, her face was sad, her eyes dim with
tears. She was sewing busily, and her Bible
lay beside her, into which she looked from
time to time. It was her only comfort.
“ Margaret, Margaret!†exclaimed Frank,
almost in despair, “ would that I were with
you again, even were I to be thrown from the
top of this rock!â€
Scarcely had he spoken when he thought
that he was seized, as it were, by an invisible
hand. He felt himself falling, falling, as one
often does in a dream, and then he awoke.
Margaret stood by his side. “Why, Frank,â€
said she, “you have slept all night in your
chair !â€
“ Am I awake yet, or dreaming still?†said
Frank.
“My dear husband, you are awake,†said
Margaret, with a pleasant smile. “ Don’t you
see the sun shining brightly into the room ?
Don’t you hear the birds singing? It is a
lovely morning.â€
Frank sat up, rubbing his eyes, as if to con-
vince himself that the scene was real, and
then he told his dream to Margaret.
110 MASTERING AVARICE.
She listened attestively, and her face
brightened with joy axd gratitude as she said:
“We are not superstitious, dear Frank ;
we do not believe indreams. They are often
caused by the conversations we have had, or
by the thoughts in which we have been ab-
sorbed on the evening before. But we must
confess that sometimes a good lesson is given
to us in our dreams, and yours is an instance
of this. Frank! my dear Frank! receive it
as such, and think no more of becoming sud-
denly rich.â€
“JT am cured of wishing for that,†said
Frank, cheerfully. “If sudden riches make
a man so unhappy, even in a dream, what
must be the reality ? I will think no more
of gold mines and treasures. We have enough,
dear wife, for all our wants. Let us live in
quiet comfort, as we did before, and be con-
tent with such things as we have.â€
Frank Muller kept his word—he thought
no more of gold mines. ‘ie worked merrily
as he had done before, anc his fine voice was
often heard mingling with Margaret’s in
cheerful songs.
M'‘Farlane & Erskine, Printers, Edinburgh.
Ly
ss
SRR
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