<£ooa an* 23a* temper- 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 JAMES BURNS, 17 PORTMAN STREET, 
 
 I'ORTMAN SQUARE. 
 
 1843. 
 
<J5ootl an* 33 at* Cemper. 
 
 There were two little girls, named 
 Sally and Ann Smith. They had 
 some younger brothers and sisters, 
 and they had some nearly grown up, 
 who went out to work. Their father 
 and mother w r orked hard, that they 
 might feed and clothe all their chil- 
 
4 
 
 GOOD AND BAD 
 
 dren. They were steady, quiet peo- 
 pie, and always tried to do their 
 duty towards God and towards their 
 neighbour. 
 
 While the elder ones went out to 
 work, Sally and Ann were very use- 
 ful at home. Five days in the week 
 they went to school, and on Sundays. 
 On Saturday they were very busy 
 helping their mother to clean the 
 house and mend the clothes, and 
 make all tight and nice against Sun- 
 day. Sometimes they had leave 
 from school for a day, when their 
 mother was obliged to go out, and 
 wanted one of them to watch the 
 children. Helping their mother at 
 home was as good to them as play, 
 though they liked play as well as 
 other girls ; and their mother liked 
 them to have it when there was 
 time. 
 
 These two little girls were very 
 much alike in their looks. Sally 
 was only a year older than Ann, but 
 she was much taller. They had both 
 
light hair and blue eyes, and were 
 sunburnt with being a great deal out 
 in the air with the younger children. 
 And they were both reckoned good 
 girls at their books, and got praise 
 for being useful at home. They 
 never told lies, or took what did not 
 belong to them. I never heard of 
 their behaving ill at church, or being 
 rude and bold, or using bad words 
 And yet every body knew them apart 
 at once ; and if you had lived a day 
 with them, you would have said no 
 two girls could be so unlike each 
 other. The difference was in their 
 tempers. You could not look at 
 them without seeing it. 
 
 Sally was cheerful-looking, and 
 always seemed pleased with every 
 thing. If you spoke to her, she 
 always answered with a smile. Ann 
 most commonly looked as if she was 
 out ofsorts. You wouldhave thought 
 she had all the trouble of maintain- 
 ing the family, if you had seen her 
 going about with a discontented look, 
 
6 
 
 GOOD AND BAD 
 
 as if every thing went against her. 
 This was not always the case ; but 
 a day never passed without Ann's 
 finding something to be cross about, 
 At school she could keep from cross 
 words and looks — she knew her 
 teachers would notice them. What 
 a pity she did not take the same 
 pains to watch her temper at home ! 
 
 The little ones were not near so 
 fond of Ann as of Sally ; because 
 when Ann was out of humour, she 
 would give a push or a sharp word 
 to any of them who came near her, 
 But Sally always found fault with 
 them kindly ; and if she had to 
 punish them, she did it gently. So 
 they liked her best, though Ann used 
 to spend a halfpenny quite as often 
 as Sally did in buying gingerbread 
 for them, and she would take them 
 about the garden and the lane, just 
 as Sally did. 
 
 I will tell you a few things about 
 these two girls, which will shew you 
 how much happier Sally was, owing 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 7 
 
 to her good temper, than Ann could 
 be. 
 
 They had a little money of their 
 own, which they had got together in 
 different ways. Some halfpence their 
 father had given them ; and their 
 eldest brother, who went to work, 
 had given them sixpence a-piece out 
 of his wages ; and some they had 
 earned by going on errands, or tak- 
 ing care of their neighbours' child- 
 ren, as well as of their own little 
 brothers and sisters. They had each 
 a little tin box to keep their money 
 in. Their mother had told them 
 they should keep some of it towards 
 buying clothes at the end of the 
 year ; and their sixpence, she said, 
 they might spend as they liked. 
 
 So they considered some time; and 
 at last they settled they would each 
 buy a drinking-cup, such as they 
 had seen at the fine china-shop at 
 Stockton, when they went in turn 
 with their mother to market, and to 
 help carry home her basket. They 
 
8 
 
 GOOD AND BAD. 
 
 were cups with a pretty border round 
 them, and each had a name upon it. 
 All the common names were there, 
 so that any boy or girl might choose 
 their own. Their mother said they 
 might go the next Saturday and buy 
 their cups. 
 
 So they talked a great deal about 
 them ; and Ann said she was sure 
 she had seen one with " A present 
 for Ann" in fine gold letters on it; 
 and Sally said hers was a common 
 name, and she hoped she might find 
 that too. Billy said, " It will not 
 be a present, though, if you buy it 
 yourselves." And Sally answered, 
 " But it will be John's present, for 
 he gave us the sixpences." 
 
 They then put on their tidy frocks, 
 and set off to the town, — Sally, as 
 usual, in good humour, and Ann at 
 that time as good-humoured as Sally. 
 
 I have not time to tell you how 
 they got to the fine shop, and were 
 almost too shy to go in ; and how 
 they were half- frightened when the 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 9 
 
 man in the shop said, " Mind how 
 you come in : take care of my china 
 with your umbrella there ;" and how 
 the cups were taken down, and each 
 name found. Then they had no- 
 thing to wish for, but walked home 
 with their treasures in their hands, 
 looking at the gold letters, and at 
 the border, and wondering how such 
 beautiful things were made. 
 
 They walked along the footpath 
 by the side of the high road, and 
 then turned into the shady lane, 
 where the tall elms grew quite close 
 together, and then into the corn- 
 fields, through which was their way 
 home. Ann took the two cups care- 
 fully in her hand, and Sally carried 
 the basket, in which she had got 
 soap and candles for her mother. 
 
 All the time they were gone, the 
 children at home had been thinking 
 of the cups. They wondered when 
 their sisters would come home. At 
 last Billy said, " I see them coming 
 through the barley-field ; the barley 
 
is so high I can only see their heads. 
 Harriet, let us run and meet them, 
 and see if they have got 'Sally' and 
 ' Ann' both." 
 
 So the two children got up, and 
 clambered over the gate into the 
 barley-field, at the end of which 
 they now saw their sisters sitting to 
 rest on the stile, — Sally with the 
 basket in her hand, and the cups, 
 which Ann had given her to hold, 
 while she untied her bonnet, and 
 fanned herself with her handkerchief, 
 for it was very hot. 
 
 The children set off along the 
 dusty path as fast as they could go, 
 pushing and tumbling after each 
 other, and trying which could reach 
 Sally soonest. Billy called out, " I 
 shall touch her first." And so he 
 did ; but it was a pity he tried to 
 do it, for in his haste he fell against 
 her. Poor Sally went backwards 
 over the stile, and her cups with her, 
 and the basket upon them. She was 
 not hurt; but she heard a crash, and 
 
guessed what had happened. As 
 soon as she got up, she saw the cups 
 both broken in pieces. She only 
 said, " Oh, what a pity !" and looked 
 as if she could hardly keep from 
 crying ; but Ann gave Billy a push, 
 or rather, I am afraid, a blow, and 
 called him a naughty, good-for-no- 
 thing boy. 
 
 Billy and Harriet went home cry- 
 ing. Sally said nothing more, but 
 took up her basket and walked home; 
 and Ann followed, complaining of 
 her ill luck, and scolding at every 
 body. She could not bear this trial 
 at all. 
 
 Her only comfort seemed to be 
 telling the whole story to her mother, 
 with a great deal of complaining and 
 grieving,— how she had had the hot 
 walk for nothing — how she wished 
 she had done something else with 
 her money, and so on. Her mother 
 said, " I am very sorry, my dear — 
 I hate to have money wasted — I wish 
 the children would not be so rude ; 
 
12 
 
 GOOD AND BAD 
 
 but when you have lived as long as 
 I have in the world, and known real 
 troubles, you will not fret long about 
 such a thing as this." 
 
 This was all her mother said about 
 it ; and Ann could only spend her 
 ill -humour in complaining of the 
 heat, and telling the children not to 
 plague her, and that she did not see 
 what they were fit for but to do 
 mischief and give trouble. 
 
 The little ones were really sorry 
 for the accident. Billy said, " As 
 soon as I have sixpence, I will buy 
 another cup." This he said to Sally, 
 who had recovered her disappoint- 
 ment, and was standing at the door 
 mending her father's stockings, and 
 looking almost as cheerful as she 
 had done in the morning. Harriet 
 said, t( Can't they be mended ? we 
 will go and pick up the pieces." So 
 they did, but there were too many 
 bits to be put together — they could 
 only put those with the letters on 
 them side by side. 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 " They arc of no use now," Billy 
 said; 11 they will do for playthings.'' 
 
 Sally answered, " Look, you may 
 have all mine with the gold letters, 
 and use them for your feasts. The 
 next time you play together, you can 
 pretend these are fine china dishes, 
 such as I saw at the shop to-day. 
 You can put your little bits of gin- 
 gerbread in them." 
 
 The children were very much 
 pleased; and I really believe Sally 
 was as happy afterwards, whenever 
 they were making their little feasts, 
 as she could have been with her cup, 
 and with the pleasure of seeing peo- 
 ple look at it and admire it. 
 
 Soon after this, on a fine Sunday 
 in the autumn, Sally and Ann were 
 walking together to church, along 
 with the school-girls. They passed 
 by a pool of water, where some idle 
 boys were loitering. They had sticks, 
 and were amusing themselves with 
 splashing in the water. As the two 
 girls walked by, one of the boys 
 
threw his stick suddenly into the 
 water, and splashed them with the 
 mud. Their clean white tippets and 
 their Sunday frocks, and even their 
 bonnets, were spotted with it. Ann 
 stopped and began to tell the boys 
 they ought to be ashamed of them- 
 selves ; she would speak to their 
 fathers, and get them punished. She 
 was very angry, and could hardly 
 be persuaded by Sally to walk on, 
 Sally was vexed too, but it could do 
 no good to scold; it would not mend 
 the mischief. She said, ' ; We must 
 let the mud dry, and then try to get 
 it off. Make haste, or we shall be 
 late for church." 
 
 As they went through the church- 
 yard the people noticed their splash- 
 ed frocks ; this kept up Ann's anger, 
 but Sally only smiled. She went to 
 her place, and took out her book, 
 and attended to the service as usual. 
 But Ann went into church angry, 
 and so she came out ; therefore you 
 may be sure she did not attend to 
 
her prayers, nor to what she heard. 
 She came home discontented with 
 herself, and could find no pleasure 
 in any thing. But Sally spent her 
 Sunday evening cheerfully and hap- 
 pily with her father and mother and 
 brothers and sisters, and was only 
 sorry because Ann was out of hu- 
 I mour. 
 
 Now the winter after this was a 
 I hard one, and their father could not 
 } always get work. He said he hardly 
 I knew how to find bread for so many 
 I mouths ; and he and his wife often 
 [ said they must try to get places for 
 [ Sally and Ann — any thing to begin 
 with — where they might earn a little, 
 and learn to be servants. Their 
 mother spoke to the grocer's wife at 
 Stockton with whom she used to 
 deal, who promised to look out for 
 her. The girls thought a great deal 
 about going to service ; they really 
 wished to do something to help their 
 parents, and they thought, as girls 
 
16 
 
 GOOD AND BAD 
 
 are very apt to do, that they should 
 like to live in a town. 
 
 One day, when they had just 
 finished their dinner, a light cart 
 stopped at the door, and Sally said, 
 " Mother, here is a lady coming in." 
 And Ann whispered, " Don't you 
 remember her ? it is Mrs. Andrews, 
 who keeps the china-shop." And 
 she turned red at the remembrance 
 of her ill temper about the misfor- 
 tune of the cups. 
 
 Mrs. Andrews came in and sat 
 down. She told their mother that 
 she had heard how she had two girls 
 who wanted places, and that she was 
 willing to try one. Their mother 
 called them both to come, while Mrs. 
 Andrews talked about her maids, 
 and the trouble she had with them, 
 and how she was determined to have 
 one out of the country. Their mo- 
 ther said they had always had a 
 good character at school, and had 
 been handy at home. 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 17 
 
 All this time Mrs. Andrews was 
 looking at them. 
 
 " Now, I must tell you, Mrs. 
 Smith," she said, " that there is one 
 thing I am particular about, and 
 that is temper. The last girl I had 
 was cross, and ill-used my little girl 
 when my back was turned. Now 
 this — Ann, you call her, I think — 
 is a good, strong, tidy-looking girl, 
 but is she good-tempered ?" 
 
 Mrs. Smith was silent a moment, 
 and at last said, " I will tell no lies, 
 ma'am ; it is not my way. I must 
 speak out. I cannot say Ann is 
 good-tempered; she is easily put 
 out of sorts, and then she may be 
 hasty, and give a child a cuff" or a 
 cross word. I am sure, I hope she 
 will mend." 
 
 " I thought so — I saw something 
 of it in her looks. Now is Sally 
 like her?" 
 
 " Nobody ever found fault with 
 Sally's temper, that I will say for 
 
18 
 
 GOOD AND BAD 
 
 her. / never knew her cross, nor 
 any body else." 
 
 So it was settled that Sally was to 
 go ; and if she suited Mrs. Andrews, 
 she was to have a few clothes given 
 her after a month, and something 
 more at the end of the half year. 
 Ann could not complain, though she 
 was unhappy. She could not but 
 own that her temper was bad. She 
 had more cause to grieve when the 
 time passed on and Sally was settled 
 in her place ; but nothing was heard 
 of for Ann ; and her mother, when 
 money and bread ran short, could 
 not help saying, " Ah, if Ann had 
 been better tempered ! People do 
 not like to take her because of that 
 Every body finds out what a girl's 
 temper is." 
 
 At last her mother came home 
 from market one evening, and said 
 to her, " I have heard of a place for 
 you." 
 
 Ann looked pleased, and asked, 
 " Where ?" 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 19 
 
 " You will not like it, child ; but 
 1 1 cannot help it. Your father says 
 we must all do what we can ; the 
 I little ones cannot help us, but you 
 / must make up your mind to what is 
 disagreeable at first, and hope to do 
 better afterwards. In short, it is at 
 I Mrs. Edwards's. 
 
 I Ann was silent. Every body knew 
 what Mis. Edwards was. She was 
 ; a farmer's wife, who lived in the 
 same parish as the Smiths, an active, 
 I bustling, tidy woman, but with a 
 I terrible temper and tongue. People 
 were more afraid of Mrs. Edwards 
 I than of her husband ; for it was said 
 I she managed every thing. One or 
 || two of the girls she had for servants 
 I had run away home, and others had 
 been struck by her ; she made them 
 work very hard, and allowed them no 
 amusement. However, she clothed 
 them the first year, and if they pleas- 
 ed her, she took pains to get better 
 places for them. This the grocer's 
 wife, who was a distant relation of 
 
20 
 
 GOOD AND BAD 
 
 hers, told Mrs. Smith ; and she said, 
 " It will be a good place for Ann, 
 after all : Mrs. Edwards will brintr 
 her queer temper into order, and 
 that is all she wants." 
 
 Ann knew she must go. As she 
 was a dutiful daughter, she could 
 not bear to burden her parents any 
 longer ; but it was with a heavy 
 heart she set out for the lonely farm- 
 house, carrying her little bundle, 
 and thinking of Sally, who was so 
 comfortable at Mrs. Andrews's, and 
 so fond of the little girl she took 
 care of, and getting to be a favourite 
 with her mistress on that account. 
 
 When she got to the farm-house, 
 Mrs. Edwards was not yet come in, 
 so she sat down by the kitchen-door 
 with her bundle in her hand. Pre- 
 sently she started ; for she heard Mrs. 
 Edwards come in, scolding the man, 
 who had been late in milking the 
 cows, and complaining that every 
 thing went wrong the moment she 
 was out of the way. 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 21 
 
 " And here's the new girl, sitting 
 idle like a lady. You'll have no 
 sitting still here, child, I can tell 
 you. Take off your bonnet, and 
 come along with me. Fetch Tommy 
 in out of the garden. You must 
 coax him, though ; for Tommy is not 
 used to be contradicted. Make 
 haste." 
 
 Ann went towards Tommy, a child 
 between two and three years old, 
 who was running up and down the 
 grass walk, between the gooseberry- 
 trees. Ann said, " Won't you come 
 in out of the cold ?" but the boy 
 looked at her a moment, and said, 
 <; I won't." " But mother wants you/' 
 said Ann, trying to catch him up 
 in her arms. He began kicking and 
 screaming, and scratching ; and Ann 
 was obliged to let him go. When 
 he was tired of this, he ran in by 
 himself, and began crying for his 
 supper; and Ann got scolded because 
 she could not tell where to > find it. 
 She was not used to such trouble- 
 
22 
 
 GOOD AND BAD 
 
 some children, and she foresaw that 
 she should not have much comfort 
 with Tommy. 
 
 She had to coax him to go to bed, 
 and then to come down stairs and 
 help to get the men's supper. She 
 had scarcely time to eat any thing 
 herself, and was heartily tired, when 
 Mrs. Edwards told her she might go 
 to bed, and shewed her where she 
 was to sleep, in a little garret at the 
 end of the house, where a bed was 
 made up for her. But she could 
 not get to sleep. After she had said 
 her prayers, and was in bed, she 
 began thinking of home, and of her 
 new place, and of the difference be- 
 tween hers and Sally's. She knew 
 well enough that her own ill temper 
 was in fault. She was really anxious 
 to improve ; she knew it was sinful 
 not to take pains to mend this fault, 
 and she resolved she would submit 
 to Mrs. Edwards. 
 
 She went on tolerably for two or 
 three days, though many things hap- 
 
TEMPER 
 
 23 
 
 pened that were disagreeable enough 
 to her, and she had plenty of trouble 
 with a spoiled child like Tommy. 
 On the morning of the third day 
 she was minding him in the garden. 
 Tommy chose to climb on the gar- 
 den-gate, and Ann held his frock 
 that he might not fall. However, 
 Tommy did not choose to be held ; 
 he kicked and scratched till Ann let 
 him go. Presently, as he leaned 
 forward, he came down, head over 
 heels, upon the stony path. Ann 
 ran to pick him up, and found his 
 nose and face bleeding. He screamed 
 frightfully, and the noise brought 
 his mother out of the house. 
 
 " You idle girl," she called out, 
 " you have been gaping about, and 
 have let the poor child hurt him- 
 self in this manner. Get along into 
 the house," and she pushed her in 
 roughly. " You deserve to go with- 
 out your dinner, and you shall." 
 
 Ann, who had been tried and wor- 
 ried by Tommy's ill behaviour all the 
 
24 
 
 GOOD AND BAD 
 
 morning, felt as if she could not bear 
 this. She looked out into the fields, 
 she saw the path leading to her quiet 
 happy home : she could see the 
 smoke of the chimney, she thought. 
 Without considering a moment, she 
 snatched up her bonnet, and set off 
 across the fields as hard as she could 
 go. She reached home quite hot 
 and out of breath, and could not 
 speak to her mother, who asked her 
 half-a-dozen questions at once ; for 
 she was not a little surprised to see 
 her there. 
 
 Ann began to tell of all her wrongs, 
 crying very bitterly. Her mother 
 bade her sit down, and finished the 
 shirt she was ironing. Then she 
 said, M I see how it is, child — I am 
 sorry for it, but there is no help for 
 it. You must do something to sup- 
 port yourself — you must try to keep 
 this place for a year. If Mrs. Ed- 
 wards beat you so as to hurt you, or 
 starved you, I would not keep you 
 there. But she is only cross and 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 25 
 
 ill-tempered — that is what you have 
 been ; and living under her will shew 
 you what that is„ Come, I will go 
 back with you, and beg pardon." 
 
 She put on her bonnet and shawl, 
 begged a neighbour to mind her 
 children, locked her cottage- door, 
 and set out for the farm, followed 
 by poor Ann, who sobbed still, but 
 said nothing against it. 
 
 When they reached the farm, there 
 was Mrs. Edwards looking red and 
 angry, and leaning against the door. 
 She began about runaway girls im- 
 mediately, but Ann's sorrowful face 
 softened her a little ; and when her 
 mother began to say " she was very 
 sorry, and would not do so again, 
 she was sure — she herself should 
 never encourage a girl in such 
 things," — Mrs. Edwards seemed 
 quieted, and told Mrs. Smith to sit 
 down. " She was a civil, quiet 
 body," she said ; " she had nothing 
 to say against her; but really Ann 
 was so careless and thoughtless." 
 
26 
 
 GOOD AND BAD 
 
 Now Ann was really neither care- 
 less nor thoughtless, as her mother 
 knew, and herself too. But they 
 knew she had another fault, and was 
 now suffering for it ; and silence, 
 and Mrs. Smith's " soft answers," 
 turned "away wrath." Tommy, whose 
 bleeding was over, was glad to see 
 Ann, and went to her of his own ac- 
 cord ; and Mrs. Edwards, who was 
 not unkind when she was in good 
 humour, told Ann where to find some 
 dinner, and asked her mother to take 
 some too. But Mrs. Smith thought 
 it better to leave Ann at once, beg- 
 ging her, before Mrs. Edwards, to 
 be a good girl, and do as she was 
 bid ; and then set off to her own 
 children. 
 
 Now, after this, things went on 
 better, though it could not be a 
 comfortable home to Ann. Mrs. 
 Edwards had a bad temper ; it had 
 not been corrected when she was a 
 girl, and it was daily less likely that 
 it should mend. 
 
TEMPER. 27 
 
 I 
 
 Ann had something disagreeable 
 to bear every day. But as she had 
 been well and religiously brought 
 up, and wished and prayed to be the 
 better for her trials, her temper at 
 the end of the year was very much 
 improved ; and instead of blaming 
 Mrs. Edwards for her fault, she only 
 tried the more to mend the same in 
 herself. 
 
 Next year, Mrs. Edwards told 
 Ann'.s mother that Ann might better 
 herself by going to another farm- 
 house, to look after the children, 
 where she would get wages, and 
 where it was known that the mistress 
 was a very nice kind woman. And 
 though Mrs. Edwards never could 
 give Ann a good word while she was 
 with her, she recommended her very 
 strongly to this new place. 
 
 Ann was very happy, and went on 
 very well there. Sally, too, went 
 on well in her place ; but afterwards 
 I believe that Ann was considered 
 the better servant of the two. Her 
 
28 GOOD AND BAD TEMPER. 
 
 great fault was quite cured ; but Sally 
 was always a little thoughtless and 
 careless. 
 
 However, we need not inquire 
 which was the best girl of the two, 
 They tried to learn their duty, and 
 to do it ; and therefore I need not 
 tell you they were happy. 
 
 LONDON : I.KVKY, ROBSUN, A N li FRANK 1. V N , 
 
 Great New Street, Fetter Lane.