THE SPOILED CHILD.
Willy and his parents had had no one in their carriage but an old lady, who wore a very old-fashioned black bonnet; but now the door was opened, and there came in a lady with a pretty looking little girl, and immediately afterwards the ting-a-ring bell gave the signal of departure. "Here we are off again," cried Willy, "whiz, whiz, whiz: and look at the pretty curling smoke, oh no, the steam I mean, which is going all the way with us. Well, I think a railroad is very funny after all, though it does frighten you a little sometimes." Willy now looked at the little girl, and thought she would make a nice little companion for him; but though he tried all he could to get acquainted with her, she would not say a word. He asked her what her name was, but her Mamma was obliged to answer for her that it was Harriet; then how old she was, still she was dumb; and her mother said five last birthday. At last Willy thought of another way of getting the better of her shyness. A school-fellow of his had given him a very pretty ball as a keepsake just before he set out on his journey; this ball was in his pocket, and he took it partly out, so as to tempt the little girl to look at it, and wish to see more. She wondered what that pretty looking red and yellow round thing could be; it could not be an orange, because it was half red, and it could not be an apple; so then she smiled, as much as to say, Show me the whole of it. Willy, seeing she was pleased, took the ball quite out of his pocket, and asked her to catch it. She immediately held out a pretty little apron she wore to catch it, and then she threw it back again, and so they got quite well acquainted, and went on playing at ball for some time, till unfortunately Harriet, who was a little awkward in taking aim, threw the ball so that it fell into the old lady's lap; this made her grumble at troublesome children, and throwing the ball back to them, she declared that if it came in her way again she would throw it out of the window. The children took more care, but their spirits rose as the game went on, the ball was tossed higher and higher, with less attention, till in an unlucky moment it fell plump on the old lady's high-crowned bonnet, and as it was only made of silk, pushed it down, so that the bonnet was in an instant changed from a bonnet with a remarkably high crown, into a bonnet which looked as if it had no crown at all. This struck the children as so funny, that they both burst out laughing; it certainly was wrong, because it was very rude, but the laughing burst out before they had time to think of that. However, their gaiety was soon at an end, for the old lady, after having had some trouble to find the ball, which had, as it were, hidden itself in the crown of her bonnet, kept her promise, and threw it out of the window. Upon this the little girl began to cry, and screamed out to her Mamma, to stop the carriage in order to pick up the ball; but her Mamma told her that was impossible, but promised to buy her a ball when they came to the end of the journey; but this was far from pacifying little Miss, she almost screamed herself hoarse, because her Mamma would not stop the carriage; and then frowned rudely at the old lady for spoiling her game at play. Willy looked at her with astonishment; the very pretty little girl was become ugly from her passion. Her Mamma, half scolding, half coaxing, took her on her lap and gave her a piece of barley sugar to stop her crying, but she sobbed so violently, that it almost choked her when it was first put into her mouth; at length, quite worn out, she sunk on her Mamma's bosom, and sobbed herself to sleep.
The mother made the best apologies she could to the old lady, but could not help observing that it was very hard to throw away the children's ball. The old lady replied, "she had given them warning, so it was their own fault." The child's mother declared that she was the best child in the world when not put in a passion, but then she really could not manage her; she hoped she would outgrow it.
"Her passions will grow stronger as she grows older," replied the lady, "if she is not corrected in time. I believe if you punished her instead of giving her barley sugar, when she is in such a rage, it would do her more good. And you, my little fellow," added she, speaking to Willy, "you did not cry, though it was your ball that I threw out of window. Come here, and I will try to make you some amends." If the truth must be told, Willy had felt the tears start to his eyes when he saw the ball fly out at the window; it not only broke up the game, but it was his dear Harry's parting present: however, he had learnt how to command himself, and made no complaint. He crossed the carriage and went up to the old lady, though not without showing some signs of reluctance: she said, "I treated you as you deserved by throwing away your ball, because it is proper that children should be taught how to behave in a public carriage towards strangers. But you behaved very well in not crying, or saying anything saucy about it. Now," continued she, "I have a pretty picture-book in this bag, and I will lend it you to look at." The book was full of beautifully coloured prints, with a few lines in verse at the bottom of each, so easy, that Willy could both read and understand them. He amused himself with this book extremely, and thanked the lady; indeed, he was nearly saying that it amused him better than the ball; but he did not, because he thought that would not be fair towards Harry.
The mother of the sleeping child, seeing Willy so much pleased, observed, it was a pity that the lady had not thought of this book of pictures before; for it was the very thing that would have amused and pacified her little girl.
"I should not have shown the book," said the old lady, "had the little girl been awake. I like to amuse children when they are good, but it is right they should be punished when they are naughty. I have had a great many children," continued she, "and a great many grandchildren, and I never once rewarded them for crying, and when they found crying was of no use, they left it off. A child would much rather laugh than cry, when he can get nothing by crying. But when a child knows that it will get either the thing it cries for, or something else to pacify it, like the piece of barley sugar, it will cry if it has any sense."
Willy thought the old lady was rather severe; he did not recollect his own Mamma having ever punished him for crying; but then he could not recollect having cried for any thing: when he cried, it was from a fall; and then his Mamma laughed at him, if it was a fall which only frightened him; or, if he was hurt, she applied something to ease the pain, and then bade him bear it like a man, and not like a baby. Willy thought he should like to know the grandchildren of the old lady, they must all be so good; but he wondered whether they were fond of their grandmamma, and he ventured to ask her how many she had. "Why, I can hardly tell you," replied she, "I have so many; and my memory is very bad, now I am so old, that I cannot well reckon them up. But look at this pretty bag," said she, "it was worked by three of my granddaughters." This was the bag from which the picture-book had been taken; it was very pretty, there were three broad white velvet stripes on each side of it, and these were separated by stripes of green velvet; the green stripes were plain, but on the white ones beautiful flowers were embroidered; there were roses, and jessamine, and jonquils, and violets, and I know not how many other pretty blossoms, with their bright green leaves, and they looked so fresh and so gay that they almost seemed to be alive and growing.
"Well, now," said the old lady, "each of my three granddaughters worked one of these stripes, and their Mamma had the bag made up, with a nice handle, as you see, and a pretty lock and key, and then they sent it to me on my birthday. You may suppose how much I was pleased, and what a nice letter I wrote to thank them for the present; and now I am going to see them in the country, so I thought this was the time to use my travelling bag, for it is meant for a travelling bag, to keep all I want on the road safe and snug; so I put my purse and my spectacles, and my pocket-book and handkerchief, and two or three books I was reading, into it, and yet the bag was not half full; then I thought of a nice way of filling it. I took it to the bazaar, and there I bought a number of toys, and all sorts of things I knew the children would like, which filled it to the brim."
Willy stared and thought the cross old lady was becoming quite good-natured, and he longed much to see all the things in the bag.
The lady guessed his wishes, and said, "As you seem to be a careful child, I will trust the bag to your hands; take it to yonder corner of the carriage, where there is an empty seat, and you may look over the things."
This was a treat, indeed; and I never should have finished, if I told you all the bag contained. The first thing that Willy saw was a dissecting puzzle, but he was too impatient to look at the other things to stop to put it together; besides, he was afraid he might drop some of the pieces, and that the old lady might grow cross again. The next was a box of paints. The different colours were so beautifully arranged that they looked very pretty, though they were only colours to paint with. Then there was a little palette to spread them on, and a number of brushes, of different sorts and sizes, to paint with. Next came a work-box, which did not please Willy so much as the painting-box, because he knew nothing about needlework; and if the truth must be told, he did not know much more about painting; but, as he sometimes daubed over with colours a drawing his Mamma made for him, he fancied he understood something about painting.
Then there was a large doll carefully wrapped up in silver paper, so nicely dressed and so pretty, that he thought he should like to play with it, as well as a little girl could do; but he was afraid of crumpling its dress, so he only turned it round, and looked at it all over. Then there was a portfolio for writing, fitted up with pens, ink, and paper, sealing wax, and in short every thing that could be wanted for writing. This, he guessed, was for a little boy, for though a little girl can write as well as a little boy, she does not write so much, having needlework and other things to do, that do not belong to little boys.
When Willy had finished the examination of the bag, and put all the things back in their places, he returned it to the lady, and thanked her.