W$t Htbrarp 
 
 of tfje 
 
 WLnibtvfiitp of JOtortf) Carolina 
 
 Eenan jWemortal Collection 
 
 3fn jfflemorp of 
 
 William &anfci llenan 
 
 Stben bp f)ts( baugijter 
 
 jltarp 5.tlp fenan Jf lagler 
 
 DEVOTED TO THE HISTORY OF THE SOUTH 
 IN THE CIVIL WAR 
 
This BOOK may be kept out TWO WEEKS 
 ONLY, and is subject to a fine of FIVE 
 CENTS a day thereafter. It was taken out 
 on the day indicated below: 
 
UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
 00022228947 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://archive.org/details/childrensweekOOsedg 
 
C C r£fojffi&& 
 
 THE 
 
 CHILDREN'S WEEK. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 THE MORALS OF PLEASURE,' AND ' THE YOUNG 
 EMIGRANTS.' 
 
 h-r.r, LwiYN£cV^ ("R.\ci.ley}_ <S«.(iffv//af: 1 
 
 A social circle emulous to please. 
 
 Rogers. 
 
 BOSTON, 
 
 PUBLISHED BY CARTER AND HENDEE, 
 BALTIMORE, CHARLES CARTER. 
 
 1830. 
 
DISTRICT OF MASSACHUSETTS, TO WIT . 
 
 District Clerk's Office. 
 
 Be it remembered, that on the fifteenth day of November, A. D. 1830, in 
 the fiftyfifth year of the Independence of the United States of America, 
 Carter and Hendee, of the said district have deposited in this office the title 
 of a book, the right whereof they claim as proprietors, in the words following 
 to wit : — 
 
 ' The Children's Week. By the author of " The Morals of Pleasure," and 
 " The Young Emigrants." * 
 
 In conformity to the act of the Congress of the United States, entitled 'An act 
 for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and 
 books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies during the times therein 
 mentioned ; ' and also to an act, entitled 'An act supplementary to an act, 
 entitled "An act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies 
 of maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies du- 
 ring the times therein mentioned ; " and extending the benefits thereof to the 
 arts of designing, engraving and etching historical and other prints.' 
 
 JNO. W DAVIS, 
 Clerk of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 PRINTED BY I. R. BUTTS. ...BOSTON. 
 
ELLEN MURRAY, 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF ONE OF MY EARLIEST FRIENDS, 
 
 THIS LITTLE BOOK IS 
 
 AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. 
 
 O'- 
 er 
 
THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 The actors are at hand, and by their show 
 You shall know all that you are like to know. 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 But we must crave your patience, young friends, for 
 a few moments. — We cannot permit our e troupe, 5 to 
 rush upon the stage without the proper scenic decora- 
 tions, and in the adjustment of these, your fancy must 
 cooperate with ours, or the labor will be lost. — Imagine 
 then a fine old mansion. Place it at the northern side 
 of a lawn, consisting of at least twelve acres, and 
 shelter it from the rude breath of Boreas by a beautiful 
 wood of chesnuts, walnuts, and oaks. On the eastern 
 side, that it may catch the first rays of the morning, 
 spread a flower garden ; — and on the west, through a 
 screen of young evergreens, may be partially discerned 
 the offices, befitting a country gentleman's establish- 
 ment. The lawn, which should slope gradually, till it 
 is bounded by a row of trees, so placed, as to intercept 
 1 
 
2 THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 
 
 the common view, (this being a line of exclusion which 
 even in our republican country is permitted,) must be 
 dotted with clumps of locusts; and here and there a 
 fine horse-chesnut, — the growth of forty years or 
 more, — should present its dense foliage and regular 
 outline. — Now, over all, you must assist us to shed the 
 soft starry light of a moonless night in midsummer. 
 The evening though warm, is not sultry. There is a 
 gentle breathing over beds of violets, and through 
 labyrinths of honey-suckle ; and a gush of sweetness 
 ever and anon, betrays where Zephyr has been wan- 
 dering. — But the little domain though tranquil, is not 
 solitary. A brighter light would disclose a pathway 
 that winds around on the eastern side, to the dwelling 
 of a neighboring farmer ; the postman's horn is just 
 announcing the arrival of the stage-coach at the village 
 
 of D , scarce more than a mile off; — and the vapor 
 
 which seems to hang just over the trees in the south, is 
 probably a smoke-wreath escaped from New York, — 
 about ten miles distant. 
 
 At this moment we are attracted by voices, to the 
 long piazza which "occupies the front of the house, where 
 are assembled the family of Mr Philips. — Elevated 
 above the rest, may be caught the accents of his 
 youngest daughter Matilda, or as she is familiarly called, 
 c Matty,' a child of eight or nine years old ; who ex- 
 claims in a tone of impatient, yet pleasurable anticipa- 
 
THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. O 
 
 tion, * what can be the reason they do not come ? — Do 
 father look at your watch — I 'm sure the letter said 
 half past nine o'clock.' 
 
 ' And just as surely then,' replied Mr Philips, < you 
 have no cause of reproach, for it lacks nearly an hour 
 of that time.' 
 
 1 An hour ! O dear ! — but your watch is never right 
 father — do grandmamma look at yours.' 
 
 6 Mine, Matty,' said Mrs Atkinson, ' chides your 
 impatience even more than your father's, — for I am 
 but fifteen minutes after eight.' 
 
 Matilda had now nothing to say; — and leaning 
 against one of the pillars, she bent her eyes towards 
 that quarter from which the house was approached. 
 
 1 Father/ said Hugh, who though nearly two years 
 older than Matilda, was quite as little able to endure 
 delay, ' shall we not have a letter tomorrow if they do 
 not come.' 
 
 * I cannot promise you that,' replied his father, 
 * disappointments often come without the explanations 
 that might reconcile us to them. — I have, however, 
 no doubt that your cousins will be here at the time 
 appointed.' 
 
 Jasper and Sarah — the one fifteen, the other about a 
 year younger, though more reasonable were not less 
 interested ; and the whole group were in that uneasy 
 and excited state, which is common to young expect- 
 
4 THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 
 
 ants. We shall avail ourselves of the few moments of 
 silence jhat now ensued, to make the family better 
 known* 
 
 Mr Philips, after some years of laborious application 
 to a mercantile life, had been induced to remove to the 
 country, — partly by early attachment, but still more by 
 the entreaties of Mrs Atkinson, the mother of his wife ; 
 who earnestly desired the society of her daughter and 
 grandchildren, to cheer her widowed and solitary con- 
 dition. She resided on her patrimonial estate, — a farm 
 under fine cultivation, and possessing many natural 
 beauties. Here, with a calculation for happiness rarely 
 made in our country, they formed one family — their 
 interests and their enjoyments the same. Instead of 
 the deserted old age, which from the eager pursuit of 
 individual independence is too common among us, — 
 where family ties are feeble restraints to the desire that 
 every one feels ' to do for himself,' — the good lady 
 was the object of most respectful and affectionate 
 attention. A fine constitution, a happy temperament, 
 an intellectual taste, had enabled her to resist the touch 
 of time. A slight lameness gave an appearance of 
 infirmity to her step, but with this exception, the winter 
 
 of life sate most gracefully upon her. Her complexion 
 
 - 
 yet retained much of its original beauty ; her eye was 
 
 bright, her smile sweet, her person erect, her manner 
 
 commanding, yet mild and engaging. 
 
THE CHILDREN'S WE&K. 5 
 
 Mrs Atkinson wisely reflecting that two mistresses in 
 one house, would as little conduce to the harmony of 
 the system as two suns in one heaven, had resigned to 
 her daughter the administration of the household. 
 
 6 Let me but reign in the hearts of my grand- 
 children,' she would say, i and I want no other do- 
 minion.' 
 
 There indeed she was supreme — her opinion, her 
 taste was conclusive. She was to be sure, sometimes 
 obliged to make sacrifices to preserve the allegiance of 
 her capricious little subjects ; but it was so discreetly 
 done, that she suffered no important encroachments. 
 Hugh had once, it must be confessed, so far imposed on 
 her good nature, as to conceal in her dressing room, a 
 favorite bantam chanticleer, but as he averred that he 
 had only done so in order that he might rise at cock- 
 crowing, to prepare for an examination, his grand- 
 mother in consideration of such extraordinary exertions, 
 forgave the offence. A family of kittens too, during 
 one cold January, were, at the solicitations of Matty, 
 reared in her bed room ; and it is a fact, that the kind 
 hearted lady rose one severe night, to throw a warm 
 covering over mistress Puss and her young ones — an 
 action, that no one perhaps entirely appreciated but 
 Matty. We well remember too, finding her one day 
 intently busied in feeding, and then brooding in her ' 
 bosom, a poor little chick, that had peeped out of its 
 1* 
 
% shell some six or eight days too soon for its comfort; 
 and must have perished in the snows of an unkindly 
 April, but that her compassion could not resist the 
 pleadings of the children. Nor was her assistance 
 and indulgence relied on, only in these, and similar 
 small matters. — If lessons were to be learned, — tasks 
 could nowhere be so easily accomplished as in ' grand- 
 mamma's room.' If themes were to be written, — that 
 greatest of all labors to children, — she alone possessed 
 the ' sesame,' that could unlock their brains — she alone 
 could find subjects for every despairing scribbler, If a 
 difficulty in morals, or a doctrine in religion, puzzled 
 their consciences, or confounded their speculations, — 
 she was their casuist and expositor. If a fact in history, 
 or an allusion in poetry was to be sought or explained, — 
 a resort to her was the final appeal. — In short, she was 
 a complete juvenile encyclopedia. — But to return to 
 the piazza. 
 
 Sarah, in the contemplation of the clear firmament, 
 had raised her thoughts above the highway where 
 shortly before they had been travelling. She was of a 
 reflecting temper, and her mind was open to the im- 
 pressions of intellect and beauty. 
 
 'What are you thinking of, Sarah?' asked her 
 mother. 
 
 ' I was thinking of the stars,' replied she — { that 
 they seemed just as if they were looking down upon 
 
us, and I could almost believe that they know what we 
 are doing. Did you ever have such a thought, mother?' 
 
 ' Yes, my dear, often. It is an idea too, for which 
 there is higher authority than mine. Shakspeare, I 
 think, calls them "eyes of light." — Imagination has 
 always been busy with them, working them into fables 
 and forms, till every star can tell a tale. For instance, 
 we cannot look up at the cluster now just above us, the 
 Corona Borealis, but the story of Theseus' valor and 
 ingratitude, of Ariadne's love and wrongs, recurs to us.' 
 
 ' And the despair of poor old Egeus too,' said Mrs 
 Atkinson, — ' I, at least, never forget him.' 
 
 6 Do mother,' said Matilda, deserting her post of 
 observation, ' tell me something about the constellations, 
 as grandmamma used to tell Jasper and Sarah.' 
 
 1 1 dare not enter into comparison with your grand- 
 mother,' said Mrs Philips, ' my memory is sure to play 
 me a trick whenever I am so presumptuous.' 
 
 4 Well, grandmamma, won't you then,' urged Matty. 
 
 Mrs Atkinson, glad to cheat the time till the expected 
 visiters should arrive, willingly complied. 
 
 1 The clear frosty nights of autumn and winter,' said 
 she, ' are most favorable to the observation of the stars, 
 when coming forth from the blue depths of heaven, 
 their multitude and beauty amaze and. delight us 
 However we can even in this grey light, trace some 
 of the larger constellations. — There, immediately south 
 
8 
 
 of us, his tail yet scarcely above the horizon, is the 
 Scorpion.' 
 
 i Grandmamma,' interrupted Matilda, * that always 
 seemed to me a very queer name for stars.' 
 
 ' I think so too, dear, but I believe we can find a 
 whimsical sort of a reason for it.' 
 
 ' A whimsical sort of a reason ! ' repeated Hugh, 
 * what sort of a reason is that, pray, grandmamma.' 
 
 c O, only a reason sufficient for a girl, to be sure,' 
 replied Mrs Atkinson, tapping his cheek — ' so let me 
 proceed. The sun is in this sign the last of October, 
 and the first of November. He is then receding from 
 us, and his influences are supposed to be connected 
 with the diseases, which prevail in autumn. Now as 
 the scorpion wounds in retreating, its name and figure 
 have been fancifully applied to that cluster of stars.' 
 
 * And grandmamma, what is that large star nearly on a 
 line with the highest one in Scorpion?' 
 
 'In what direction, dear?' 
 
 4 There — west — is it not ?' 
 
 £ Yes — that is Spica — it is in the hand of the 
 Virgin. The sun enters this sign about the time of 
 harvest, and it is supposed therefore to represent a 
 young female reaper. — But you have carried me out 
 of my track. You must go back with me to Scorpion, 
 and then direct your eye at about an equal height with 
 it above the horizon, till you arrive exactly in the east — 
 
a little further — there — -try to follow my finger — 
 now you have it I'm sure, — four stars, forming a 
 diamond — .' 
 
 6 O yes — and another a little way off.' 
 c Exactly right. They are in the Dolphin. The 
 poets have many fables about this constellation. Some 
 say that Arion, a famous musician of Lesbos, was 
 thrown overboard by sailors, who wished to possess 
 themselves of his wealth. But his music having 
 previously attracted a number of Dolphins around the 
 ship, they pressed forward, emulous of saving his life, 
 and presented their little crooked backs, for all the 
 world like so many saddles, upon which he could ride 
 the waves in safety. Arion was very glad of the offer 
 as you may suppose, more so than if the Prince of 
 Cobourg's fifty horses had been at his service ; and 
 instantly mounting the foremost, was conveyed to a 
 place of safety, — the rest attending to furnish relays if 
 necessary. It is added, however, that the poor dolphin 
 having stranded himself, could not reimbark ; and that 
 Arion ungratefully permitted him to perish on the shore ; 
 upon which the gods, more just than man, placed him 
 among the stars.' 
 
 ' That 's good ! ' cried Hugh, — whose sympathy 
 with the inferior orders of creation made him almost 
 receive fable for fact, — ' that 's good ! — now tell us 
 some more, grandmamma,' 
 
10 THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 
 
 * But first grandmamma,' said Matilda, ' tell me one 
 thing — why do you call some signs, and some con- 
 stellations'? are they not all constellations? I know 
 which the signs are, for I have learned them, — Aries, 
 Taurus, and so on, — but I do not know why you call 
 them so.' 
 
 e You are right,' replied Mrs Atkinson, — ' constella- 
 tion, which means a cluster of stars, is applicable to all 
 the groups you see, but only twelve are distinguished 
 as signs. Perhaps they are so called because they are 
 signals of the sun's progress, as he passes through 
 them ; or because they are emblems of the manner of 
 his movement ; as the crab denotes his backward course 
 when he turns to the south ; and the goat represents 
 his ascent, or climbing, towards the north. Others 
 again are emblematic of circumstances attending the 
 change of seasons, — as in the instances I have already 
 
 told 
 
 you 
 
 6 But grandmamma,' said Sarah, ' these cannot be 
 applicable in all places. — To the people in the southern 
 parts of the globe, he would appear to go back, instead 
 of ascending, when in Capricorn.' 
 
 ( You forget my dear, that the science of astronomy 
 received its nomenclature in the northern hemisphere. 
 Chaldea, a great part of Egypt and Arabia, countries 
 in which the first observers of the heavenly bodies 
 dwelt, though much more south than we are, are still 
 north of the tropic of Cancer,' 
 
11 
 
 * Yes, that is true. — There is one thing,' continued 
 Sarah, ' that often puzzles me. I have got over the 
 difficulty of the apparent motion of the sun, but why- 
 is he said to be in a sign, when we know that the fixed 
 stars are so much more distant than he ? ' 
 
 ■ It is because the heavenly bodies can be subjected 
 to the test of only one of our senses — sight ; which 
 you know requires to be corrected by the touch. When 
 you look at the moon, does she not appear to be in, or 
 among the stars ? ' 
 
 < Yes.' 
 
 ' In like manner, we transfer the sun to the same 
 plane with the stars, though they are at an infinite dis- 
 tance ; and the language of the science, has been 
 adapted to the apparent fact.' 
 
 4 You should reflect too, Sarah,' said her father, 
 c though the terms by which the science is conveyed, 
 are founded on false appearances, yet this language is 
 so connected with all observations of the past, and all 
 calculations for the future, that it is more easy to set 
 our own minds right, than to correct what may be called 
 the madness of astronomy, which always " reasons cor- 
 rectly, from false premises." — It is after all, more a 
 matter of surprise, that such an accurate knowledge 
 has been obtained of these distant bodies, than that 
 errors and deceptions should have been incorporated 
 with it. — In the words of our favorite Paley, " that an 
 
12 THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 
 
 animal confined to the surface of one of the planets, 
 bearing a less proportion to it, than the smallest micro- 
 scopic insect does to the plant it lives upon ; that this 
 little busy, inquisitive creature, should have been able to 
 observe the whole system of worlds to which its own 
 belongs, is wonderful." ' 
 
 1 Grandmamma,' said Hugh, taking advantage of a 
 pause, ' have n't you some more fables to tell us ?' 
 
 1 A few, perhaps — but I 'm afraid my stock will 
 soon be spent. I wish for your sake, that I could sweep 
 the heavens more skilfully.' 
 
 6 Sweep the heavens,' repeated Matty, 6 now what 
 does that mean ? 
 
 'Miss Caroline Herschel,' replied Mrs Atkinson, 
 c the sister of the great astronomer, partook of his taste 
 and genius, and was a valuable assistant to him. When 
 they were seated in his observatory, she would place 
 her eye at the telescope, which, turning on a pivot, and 
 each time with an increased elevation, would in its 
 successive circuits, take in all the visible heavens. 
 During this time, she would inform her brother if any 
 thing of interest occupied the field of the instrument, — 
 upon which he made notes at the same moment. This 
 she called " sweeping the heavens." ' 
 
 4 1 should like such sweeping ! ' cried Matty. * But 
 now grandmamma go on, and I will not interrupt you 
 again.' 
 
13 
 
 5 Direct your eye then northwest from the Dolphin, 
 till it meets a very large star surrounded by several 
 smaller ones — have you found it ?' 
 
 < Yes.' 
 
 ' That is in Lyra ; and this you must know is said to 
 be the very lyre with which Orpheus so softened the 
 infernal deities, that they gave him back his wife again. 
 You remember I told you the story the other day, when 
 you asked me the meaning of the line 
 
 " His numbers rais'd a shade from hell." ' 
 
 1 Yes, yes, 5 cried Matty and Hugh, ' we remember 
 that, very well.' 
 
 'Now pass the northern crown,' continued Mrs 
 Atkinson, ' I believe you all know that — and descending 
 a little south, you will see the star Arcturus, in Bootes ; 
 who is supposed to be Areas, the son of the nymph 
 Calisto. He was a great huntsman, — a taste he proba- 
 bly inherited from his mother, who was one of Diana's 
 attendants. But like those of some other young gentle- 
 men, his sport had nearly proved death to others ; for 
 poor Calisto, having been changed into a bear, he was 
 on one occasion near killing his own mother ; so to get 
 her out of harm's way, Jupiter transferred her to the 
 skies, under the form of the Ursa major, or great bear ; 
 and when Areas died, he had a similar promotion under 
 the constellation of Bootes. He is represented with a 
 2 
 
14 
 
 club in one hand, and with the other holding two dogs 
 in a leash, who are barking at Calisto.' 
 
 Here Mrs Atkinson was interrupted by a general start 
 from the children, whose senses quickened by expecta- 
 tion, had caught the sound of approaching wheels. 
 
 ' 1 hear the first gate open,' exclaimed Matty, 
 ' they 've come ! they Ve come !' 
 
 c Yes, that must be the carriage,' cried Jasper, ; let 's 
 run and meet it' — and followed by Hugh, he was soon 
 out of sight. Sarah was too happy for speech, Matty 
 jumped and laughed with joy, — and Areas was left to 
 drive the bear around the pole without further observa- 
 tion. 
 
 It was not many minutes before a carnage issued 
 from the long avenue by which the house was ap- 
 proached, and Jasper reaching the piazza at the same 
 instant, eagerly opened the door to receive his cousins, 
 Richard and Helen Lee. They were about the ages 
 of Jasper and Sarah, — the children of a daughter of 
 Mrs Atkinson, residing in New Jersey. Their accus- 
 tomed visits to their grandmother had latterly been in- 
 terfered with, by the increasing demands of their educa- 
 tion ; but the present vacation was in part to be passed 
 with her, — and it had, therefore, been looked forward 
 to with the greater interest. 
 
 For some moments the joy of all parties was mani- 
 fested by the usual noisy demonstrations. Having at 
 
15 
 
 length assumed the quiet tone of decided satisfaction, 
 the visiters were in a proper frame of mind to answer the 
 interrogatories relating to home, parents, schools, he, 
 &c, natural on the occasion — after which they retired 
 to the sweet rest of youth, too profound even for visions 
 of the morrow's enjoyment. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 Mouflar, sur le fait meme pris, 
 N'attendait plus que le supplice. 
 
 Florian. 
 
 The following morning as soon as breakfast was over, 
 Sarah and Jasper produced whatever, as they believed, 
 would most contribute to the entertainment of their 
 guests ; and Hugh and Matilda, emulating their example, 
 were not behind-hand in the like courtesy. Jasper 
 offered for the inspection and amusement of Richard, 
 the usual equipments for country sports. Sarah brought 
 out for Helen, all the variety of ' Annuals,' from the 
 elegant foreign Souvenirs, to the tasteful little ' Youth's 
 Keepsake,' of home manufacture ; besides Portfolios, 
 Albums, Sec, &c. Matty exhibited her exquisite ring- 
 doves ; suppressing for the present, the mortifying fact, 
 that they were likely to ' die, and leave the world no 
 copy of their graces ' — such was the unaccountable and 
 unnatural propensity of this particular pair to destroy 
 their own eggs. Hugh, on his part, in the zeal of his 
 politeness, ventured to introduce into the parlor, (a for- 
 bidden indulgence,) his friend Warder, a fine young 
 
17 
 
 mastiff, — in all the frolic and mischief of puppyhood, 
 which we are warranted in saying, he would not have 
 exchanged for the doves of Venus. In the midst oi 
 the excitement thus created, Mr Philips entered, and 
 approaching the table, ' I hope, Sarah,' said he, ' that 
 your cousin has brought you no books — unless indeed 
 it be the " Cook's Oracle." ' 
 
 Helen laughed, but Sarah blushed. She knew these 
 words though uttered kindly, were still a reproof. 
 
 6 1 am ashamed to say I have not,' replied Helen, 
 6 but the truth is, that knowing Sarah to be such a 
 reader, I supposed she had already everything I was 
 likely to find.' 
 
 4 She certainly is " a reader," ' replied Mr Philips, 
 smiling, ' and I am glad of it ; but I wish her to be 
 something more— I want that she should also be that 
 old-fashioned, indispensable, comfortable thing — a good 
 housekeeper ; and I am afraid with her present tastes 
 and habits, I shall not be gratified. I like poetry, 
 painting, music, and still better history and science ; 
 but I must say I cannot even for these, sacrifice skill in 
 domestic affairs. Neither are they incompatible ; a 
 girl will even accomplish more of everything, from the 
 sense of the greater demands on her time, by the dili- 
 gence and energy thus called forth. What do you say 
 to this, Helen ?' 
 
 4 0,1 suppose you are right uncle.' 
 2* 
 
18 THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 
 
 6 As some proof of it,' continued Mr Philips, ' I must 
 tell you, as 1 have already told Sarah, what I observed 
 during a visit to a friend of mine last spring. The lady 
 of the house was indisposed. She had been for some 
 time an invalid ; but there was not the slightest appear- 
 ance of neglect or confusion in the house. Her two 
 daughters, not much older than you and Sarah, had 
 been so trained, that young as they were, they supplied 
 their mother's place, — alternately discharging the duties 
 that devolved upon them. The youngest was in office 
 at the time of my visit ; and although the family was 
 large, including several children, and some guests beside 
 myself, there was no perturbation, no bustle. She rose 
 early, and entered on her labors with the greatest alac- 
 rity ; and gliding about with her little basket of keys on 
 her arm, — the very personification of domestic order 
 and quiet, — she, by a look, a word, or a touch, effected 
 whatever she wished. At dinner she would have mod- 
 estly resigned the head of the table to her elder sister, 
 in consideration of the presence of visitors, but her 
 father justly decided, that honor should accompany 
 responsibility. Thus placed, no awkwardness or inat- 
 tention betrayed incapacity. She carved with neatness, 
 and attended to her guests with the most perfect pro- 
 priety. — And now for the point of my story — she had 
 read much more than most girls of her age, had made 
 very respectable progress in her several studies, and 
 
19 
 
 had considerable taste and skill in the use of her pencil. 
 Now don't you think I have made out my case ?' 
 
 Helen assented with a good humored smile, and 
 Sarah looked the approbation she was too generous not 
 to feel. 
 
 ' I had no intention, however, my dear girls,' said Mr 
 Philips, ' to deliver you such a discourse when I entered. 
 I came only to advise you to walk before it becomes 
 too warm. Sarah must show you some of my improve- 
 ments, Helen. I would go with you myself, but I am 
 obliged to be absent on business today.' 
 
 The girls prepared for their walk, and having made 
 the tour prescribed by Mr Philips, were on their return, 
 when Matty exclaimed, ' Sarah, there 's Frederick 
 Hammond ! I wonder when he came back. — I declare 
 if he is not turning down the other road just to avoid 
 us. I am sure I don't see why he need be angry with 
 us, because he and Jasper have quarrelled.' 
 
 * I don't suppose he is angry ;' replied Sarah ; { per- 
 haps he avoids us only because he feels awkwardly at 
 meeting us.' 
 
 'Who is he ?' asked Helen. 
 
 1 He is the son of a gentleman who lives in the vil- 
 lage,' replied Sarah. ' About a year ago he and Jas- 
 per went to school together. At first they were great 
 friends, for he is a very pleasant boy ; but they quar- 
 relled about some foolish matter. Jasper thought he 
 
20 
 
 had been treated ill, and I suppose Frederick thought 
 the same. Father was very sorry for it, because he 
 has a great respect for Mr Hammond. He tried to 
 induce Jasper to be friends again, but he could not suc- 
 ceed ; and then he said, as a forced reconciliation wa§ 
 no reconciliation at all, he would not meddle any farther 
 with it. Frederick has been absent for some months, 
 and I suppose has just returned, for I have not seen 
 him before. We were sorry enough for this business, 
 for we all liked Frederick.' 
 
 1 For my part,' said Matty, ' I don't see how any one 
 can be angry so long ; I should forget what I was angry 
 about.' 
 
 The morning passed quickly ; and after a cheerful 
 dinner, as they were seated round the table, the door 
 opened, and a decent looking man with his hat in his 
 hand presented himself. ' Your servant, ma'am ;' said 
 he, with an Irish accent, — 8 I 'm a British soldier ; and 
 you see being short of cash like, I should be greatly 
 obliged to you for a meal of victuals.' 
 
 There was a manly, frank reliance on her hospitality, 
 mingled with an air of respect, that pleased Mrs Philips, 
 and she rose to give orders for his refreshment ; making 
 at the same time, the usual inquiries as to where he 
 came from, and whither he was going. 
 
 ' Why, indeed ma'am, as to that,' he replied, ' I am 
 jist from Canada, me and two lads out there under the 
 
21 
 
 trees. We 've been discharged by the king ; and being 
 that we 've all got good trades, we 're minded to see 
 what luck we '11 get in the States. And we have n't 
 all the world of money, ma'am, as you may know ; so I 
 made bold to stop. The boys though, out yonder, 
 were rather backward like — but no wonder — they 're 
 young and bashful you know — but I am fortytwo year 
 old come next St Patrick's, and indeed I'll never 
 starve while I have a tongue in my head.' 
 
 Mrs Philips commended his resolution, and telling 
 him to follow her, conducted him to the kitchen, where 
 she directed the cook, a negro woman, to give him the 
 remains of their late dinner, which he proposed to take 
 out and share with his companions. 
 
 Dinah produced it, but was somewhat embarrassed 
 how to dispose of it according to her notions of pro- 
 priety, in the handkerchief which he spread out to 
 receive it. 
 
 ' I can't, missess,' said she, ' put veal, and peas, and 
 salad, all into such a thing as that.' 
 
 c Lord love you !' said he, l you need'nt stand about 
 that. I'm not dilicate. Didn't our regiment eat 
 seventy of their own horses in Spain ? and do you think 
 we '11 mind a trifle the like of this ?' 
 
 An eater of horse-flesh, Dinah thought, was not to be 
 disputed on such a point ; she no longer, therefore, 
 opposed the unseemly proceeding. 
 
22 the childben's week. 
 
 4 And now my honey,' said he, * can ye not jist give 
 us a little cider ? faith, and if you will, we '11 drink your 
 health in it — and that 's a good offer to one of your 
 complexion.' 
 
 Dinah overawed by the good humored daring of 
 the man, did not resent this allusion, and promptly fur- 
 nished the liquor. 
 
 4 That's a kind soul,' said he, ' and it 's much I admire 
 your gentility.' — Then turning to Mrs Philips, who, 
 amused with the scene had not yet left the room, 
 4 indeed ma'am,' said he, ' when a poor lad 's been kilt 
 in the wars as often as I have been, he must now and 
 then have a drop of drink.' 
 
 * Killed ! ' exclaimed Dinah, understanding him lite- 
 rally. 
 
 With the quick sense of the ludicrous natural to his 
 nation, he perceived her misapprehension, and pro- 
 ceeded with a solemn earnestness of manner, to play 
 upon her credulity. 
 
 4 Indeed, my dear, and you may say that — kilt dead ! 
 four times ! — and brought to life by a galvanic battery!' 
 Then marching off with his ' provant,' he left Dinah in 
 the unpleasant dilemma of not knowing if she were im- 
 posed on, or not. 
 
 In about half an hour he came back, bringing the 
 pitcher with which he had been furnished, and return- 
 ing the thanks of himself and his comrades, for their 
 
the! children's week. 23 
 
 repast, — adding ' And indeed ma'am there 's nothing in 
 life so dull as hunger. Those poor fellows yonder a 
 little while ago, had not breath enough among them to 
 fill a fife ; — and now — faith they 're singing away like 
 so many nightingales !' 
 
 This circumstance, though apparently foreign to our 
 story, is nevertheless remotely connected with some of 
 its minor details. — In the course of the afternoon Dinah 
 entered with a portentous face — 
 
 \ Missess,' said she, ' one of master's best Marseilles 
 vests is gone. It was on the line just after dinner ; I 
 saw it myself, and now I can't find it anywhere.' 
 
 Although it may appear beneath the dignity even of 
 domestic annals, we cannot disguise that this loss was 
 not deemed unimportant. The explanation which oc- 
 curred to Mrs Philips, had already dimly gleamed 
 athwart the not very quick mind of Dinah. 
 
 ' I don't know what missess thinks,' said she, ' but 
 I '11 be bound that horse-eater has got master's vest. 
 Missess knows he said he was n't "dilicate" and I guess 
 no more he is n't.' 
 
 Appearances seemed indeed to warrant the conclu- 
 sion, and though Mrs Philips was sorry to think the 
 frank hearted soldier no better than a thief, she was 
 compelled to admit the suspicion ; — which was con- 
 firmed on the return of Mr Philips, who pronounced the 
 fellows to be undoubtedly deserters, and unworthy of 
 
24 
 
 confidence. This furnished matter for grave lamentation, 
 on the deceptions, by which benevolence was wasted 
 and charity finally repressed ; till in the midst of them 
 Dinah again made her appearance, holding in her hand, 
 the missing garment, reduced to a deplorable state. 
 
 ■ Missess was wrong,' said Dinah, conveniently for^ 
 getting her own confident assertions, ' mistress was 
 wrong. I have found out the thief,' said she looking at 
 Hugh, who appeared nearly as guilty as if he were him- 
 self accused ; ' and who but mister Warder to be sure ! 
 There it was, hid away in my gentleman's house, and 
 pretty work he 's made of it !' 
 
 It was indeed in an irreparable condition, and Hugh 
 trembled for his favorite ; upon whom he rightly judged 
 displeasure would fall with double weight, from the 
 consciousness of injustice to the poor soldier. But this 
 was not all — Dinah had still another throw to cast at 
 Warder, who had always been her especial annoyance. 
 Producing, therefore, from beneath her apron, a book, 
 which proved to be a Latin grammar, and which had 
 disappeared, more it must be owned to the surprise, than 
 the regret of Hugh, — c Mister Warder, I guess,' said 
 Dinah, grinning at her own wit, ' likes grammar better 
 than master Hugh.' 
 
 This being his peculiar property, Hugh thought he 
 might venture to take the management of the affair into 
 his own hands. He said, therefore, with a dignified 
 
25 
 
 ajr, that ' he should teach Warder better ;' inwardly 
 hoping that this indefinite threat, would protect him from 
 the full measure of punishment due to his misdeeds. 
 Mrs Philips, however, did not let him off so easily, and 
 declaring that he was the torment of the house, said that 
 it was absolutely necessary he should be sent away. 
 
 Hugh begged and entreated, promised to watch and 
 correct him, and at length it was compromised between 
 him and his mother, that at present, his dog should be 
 pardoned ; but that for the next serious piece of roguery 
 he committed, he should positively be banished. 
 
 Poor Hugh ! he little imagined that while he was 
 entering into this contract, with all due solemnities, he 
 was virtually signing and sealing Warder's dismission. 
 The unlucky pup, after shaking himself from his after- 
 noon's nap, had engaged in a game of romps with.Fin- 
 nette, — Matty's handsome, saucy, Maltese cat. Puss 
 withdrew, and he advanced ; till chance befriending 
 her, she retreated into the sanctuary of the eastern end 
 of the piazza. This was reserved for some choice 
 plants, for the better protection of which, a glazed par- 
 tition had been placed. A door in this having been 
 left open, admitted the fugitive. Here she kept up a 
 running fight, now behind one flower pot, now on top 
 of another ; enticing Warder further and further within 
 the forbidden limits. At last, in the scuffle which 
 ensued upon her having boxed his ears, an action be 
 
26 the children's week, 
 
 was rash enough to imitate, a beautiful Tea-rose, 
 recently, and with some difficulty obtained, was demol- 
 ished. It was not easy to say, if the flourishing of her 
 tail, or the brandishing of his paw, had done the mis- 
 chief. Finnette, however, scampered off, and when 
 Mrs Philips unexpectedly appeared, Warder was left 
 to bear the blame alone. 
 
 Hugh was instantly summoned. 
 
 1 This exceeds all ! ' said his mother, who, though 
 usually indulgent and amiable, was, we must confess, 
 more vexed by the accident than was wise. ' This is 
 beyond my patience ! — my beautiful Tea-rose ! I would 
 not have lost it for anything ! — That abominable dog I 
 he shall not remain here another day.* 
 
 It was in vain for Hugh to allege that he had encoun- 
 tered Finnette in her flight, with evident marks of 
 guilt ; — circumstances were too strong against the poor 
 pup, to allow any weight to this evidence. The matter, 
 in short, was settled, and Warder ' done up.' Orders 
 were given that he should be kept locked in his kennel, 
 in a remote part of the premises, till it was convenient 
 to send him to town ; to be disposed of to the first per- 
 son who did not wear Marseilles vests, study Latin, or 
 cultivate Tea-roses. Thus closed a day which had 
 commenced with such joyous anticipations ! and poor 
 Hugh went to bed nearly heart-broken. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 O say what is that thing called light 
 Which I must ne'er enjoy ? 
 
 What are the blessings of the sight ? 
 tell your poor blind boy ! 
 
 Cibber. 
 
 * I am almost sorry to interrupt you,' said Mrs Philips, 
 entering Sarah's room the next morning—' you look so 
 busy, and so happy — but I have an errand to Mr How- 
 ell's, and I am not in the humor for a solitary walk — 
 which of you will accompany me?' 
 
 1 1 will, mother,' said Matilda, c I love to go there ; 
 and beside that, I love to walk with you.' 
 
 1 1 too would like it very much,' said Sarah, i if Helen 
 is so disposed,' 
 
 ' O never fear me,' said Helen, ' I am always as 
 ready " to go" as Lady Lightfoot.' 
 
 4 Then we '11 all go,' said Mrs Philips ; — i and now 
 the sooner we are ready the better.' 
 
 As they commenced their walk, * I think Helen,' said 
 her aunt, 'you will be sufficiently pleased with the 
 family we are going to see, to pay for the trouble, were 
 it even more than it is,' 
 
28 
 
 f You cannot help liking Fanny,' exclaimed Matilda, 
 ' every body likes her !' 
 
 \ And who is Fanny ?' asked Helen, ' I have not 
 heard of her before.' 
 
 ' Mother,' said Matilda, ' do you tell Helen about 
 Fanny — you can do it best.' 
 
 ' Her story is very simple, and soon told,' said Mrs 
 Philips, — ' but as it is connected with the Howell's, I 
 must first give you some account of them. Mr Howell 
 is an honest, industrious farmer. He has three sons, of 
 whom two, being healthy and active, were trained to 
 hardy occupations. William, the youngest, was from 
 infancy slender and sickly ; and partly from this cause, 
 showed at an early age a thoughtful turn of mind, which 
 led to an earnest desire for instruction. His parents, 
 though uncultivated themselves, were gratified by the 
 intelligence he evinced, and sent him to school. There 
 he distinguished himself, and attracted the attention of 
 persons who were able to appreciate his capacity ; who 
 assisted him by the use of books, and kindly encouraged 
 his laudable efforts. When about thirteen years old, 
 though his health had improved, an alarming effect had 
 been produced on his sight by too close application. 
 The disease increased till it terminated in a cataract on 
 both eyes, and he was at once shut out from the light 
 of heaven, and from what he valued even more, — the 
 light of knowledge. His parents, in whom great expec- 
 
THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 29 
 
 tations had been excited by his uncommon progress, 
 and who had determined to educate him liberally, 
 though this was only to be done by much privation to 
 themselves, were deeply afflicted. They were advised 
 to resort to surgical aid, but this was at first necessarily 
 delayed by the state of the eyes, and then deferred, from 
 the incredulity common to ignorant persons, — who as 
 often expect too little, as too much, from the use of 
 means.' 
 
 ' Well, but Fanny, mother' — said Matty, < Fanny — 
 you have forgotten her.' 
 
 ' No indeed I have not,' replied Mrs Philips, ' I am 
 only using the privilege of all story tellers, — telling my 
 story in my own way. About a year after William be- 
 came blind, his parents took into their family a little 
 girl, who is Matty's heroine — Fanny Dale. She was 
 the child of poor persons, who dying, left her destitute, 
 and she was bound to Mrs Howell. In such a family 
 there were not to be sure, any very nice distinctions. 
 Still there was a feeling of inferiority on her part, which 
 operating together with kind treatment, on a gentle and 
 affectionate temper, rendered her not only humble and 
 grateful, but disinterested and devoted. It is this which 
 renders her so pleasing. The busy life of a farmer's 
 family, notwithstanding the tenderness with which he 
 was regarded, left no one at leisure to attend to William, 
 but Fanny. When she had performed her appointed 
 3* 
 
30 
 
 duties, she would take her knitting and sit beside him, 
 while the pity with which he inspired her, softened the 
 tones of her naturally sweet voice to melody itself. She 
 seemed studious to be always near him, as if to lighten 
 the solitude of perpetual darkness. She soon learned 
 too, to adapt herself to his nice perceptions of sound. 
 If she walked it was with a light and careful step ; in 
 closing a door, or in moving a chair, she would be sure 
 so to do it as not to offend his ear 5 and in turning her 
 wheel, she contrived to make it absolutely musical. — 
 She could read tolerably, and Mrs Howell, though a 
 notable woman, willingly permitted her to employ some 
 portion of her time in reading, for the benefit of William. 
 At first her mistakes annoyed him ; but the sweetness 
 with which she took the rebuke, even if impatiently 
 uttered, and the solicitude with which she endeavored 
 to correct her faults of pronunciation, and emphasis, 
 soon won him to a kind endurance of them. While 
 thus ministering to his mind, her own was developed ; — 
 nor were the moral uses of this intercourse less obvious. 
 Her gentle and self-denying attentions, while they cher- 
 ished all that was good in herself, soothed his spirit, and 
 reconciled him to his lot ; — perceiving too, that he could 
 instruct and gratify another, he lost by degrees the acute 
 sense of his bereaved and dependent condition. 
 
 Thus seven years passed on ; during which William's 
 situation and character, rendered him an object of much 
 '# 
 
31 
 
 humane attention. Every one was happy to contribute 
 to his improvement and entertainment; and Fanny, 
 though actuated chiefly by the desire of being useful to 
 him, was nevertheless deriving benefit from whatever 
 tended to his advantage. Nor was his time passed only 
 in reference to himself; he contrived to be more ser- 
 viceable than you would suppose possible ; and besides 
 performing many little domestic offices, he has for some 
 time been an assistant to the village schoolmaster — ' 
 
 < Well, but mother,' said Matilda, ' you don't tell 
 what I want — ' 
 
 1 1 am coming to it as fast as I can, Matty,' replied 
 Mrs Philips — f you know if Helen is not well acquainted 
 with the parties, she cannot feel much interested in their 
 concerns. The acquirements and amiable qualities of 
 Fanny, naturally attracted attention in her little circle ; 
 and a thriving and respectable young man, a merchant; 
 paid his addresses to her. Until this period, she con- 
 sidered herself, as having for William, no other senti- 
 ment than that of an affectionate sister ; but when called 
 thus to decide on an offer of marriage, she was con- 
 vinced she could love no other person so well. Yet 
 she had no reason to suppose that he regarded her as 
 more than a faithful friend. The match proposed was 
 every way eligible, — beyond what she could have ex- 
 pected ; and her friends urged it strongly. Even Wil- 
 liam, to increase her perplexity and distress, earnestly 
 
32 the children's week. 
 
 represented to her the advantages of the connexion. 
 After a conflict between affection and pride, — for even 
 in the humble heart of Fanny Dale, this universal prin- 
 ciple found something to address itself to, — between her 
 renunciation of William, and a marriage, which would 
 save her from dependence, perhaps servitude — she de- 
 cided to remain as she was. To quote her own simple, 
 but expressive language, when relating the circumstance 
 to me, " I would rather," said she, " be eyes and feet to 
 William, than to have all that money can buy." Her 
 reward was at hand. Like herself, happy in their 
 rational and affectionate intercourse, the necessity of a 
 closer tie in order to secure its continuance, had not 
 been felt by William, till the danger of losing her was 
 presented. But, though then fully aware of the nature 
 of his own attachment, and of her importance to him, 
 yet regarding it as selfish and cruel to prevent a union 
 so much more to her advantage, he generously sup- 
 pressed his own feelings. No sooner, however, had 
 her decision left him at liberty to do so, than he avowed 
 his affection.' 
 
 5 That was indeed very generous,' said Helen, * in 
 both Fanny and William. I should not have expected 
 it from persons of their condition.' 
 
 ' It is not condition, my dear Helen, but moral culti- 
 vation, which makes us capable of virtuous and disinter- 
 ested actions. I am afraid you will find that no class 
 
THE CHILDREN'S WEES. $3 
 
 is so elevated, as to exclude the operation of mean and 
 unworthy motives | and it is certain there is none so 
 low, as to be insensible of the highest* if properly ad- 
 dressed to it. But to return to Fanny, for I see Matty 
 is preparing another rebuke of my digressions. You 
 will readily believe that she had now less difficulty in 
 making up her mind. The consent of William's parents 
 was obtained, and their marriage would have taken 
 place about this time, when Fanny completes her 
 eighteenth year, but for a circumstance I shall presently 
 explain.; but which will not, probably, long postpone it/ 
 
 ■ Well,' said Helen, ' Fanny of course is very happy, 
 — but I must say, that a blind lover would have no great 
 charms for me.' 
 
 ' And do you ever hope for any other ? ' asked Mrs- 
 Philips, smiling. 
 
 1 Any other !' repeated Helen, surprised, ' any 
 other !' — then recollecting herself — ' O, I know what 
 you mean now, aunt ; blind to faults I suppose all lovers 
 are — but — then — ' 
 
 ' You would not have him blind to beauties too, I 
 suppose, Helen.' 
 
 ' Why no — if I must own it, I do think, aunt, that it 
 would be quite disagreeable to have a lover who did not 
 know whether one had black eyes, or grey — if one were 
 dark, or fair — danced well, or ill — or — ' 
 
 4 But, Helen,' said Sarah, ' perhaps he would admire 
 
34 
 
 the more your knowledge and your goodness, because 
 his mind would be entirely occupied by these, instead 
 of your looks and your accomplishments.' 
 
 * There *s another consideration too,* said Mrs Philips, 
 1 that, perhaps, does not occur to you. If he were in- 
 sensible to the blaze of your beauty, he would be equally 
 so to its decline; and neither age nor sickness could 
 render you less lovely. — But what will you say, Helen, 
 when I tell you, that were Fanny only to consult her 
 Own feelings, she would prefer that William should 
 remain blind.' 
 
 * Impossible, aunt ! — unless indeed she is not pretty — ' 
 1 She is pretty though,' replied Mrs Philips — ' that is, 
 
 sufficiently so to be pleasing. Her face expresses the 
 character of her mind, — delicate, feminine, and intelli- 
 gent — and without any overweening estimate of her 
 good looks, Fanny has no solicitude on that subject,' 
 
 1 What in the world then, is the reason of such a 
 strange preference ?' asked Helen. 
 
 c Simply that she might continue to be to him what 
 she is at present. The care of William is so much 
 the object of her life, that she estimates herself only by 
 her importance to his comfort. J might almost say that 
 she seems scarce conscious of a separate existence, and 
 fears to be lost to herself when no longer identified with 
 him. — But Fanny is too rational not to perceive that 
 this is a false sentiment, It is with her but the momen- 
 
the children's week. 35 
 
 tary excess of a mind of sensibility. She sees that it 
 would be selfishness, not generosity, to lament his in- 
 dependence of her care and tenderness ; and with a 
 wiser, more virtuous feeling, rejoices for his sake, that 
 she is to become less important to him.' 
 
 ' Is there any probability then,' asked Helen, in a 
 voice subdued by the internal comparison she had been 
 making between herself and Fanny, ' Is there any pro- 
 bability that he will ever recover his sight ?' ' It is this 
 very thing that now occupies us,' replied Mrs Philips. 
 ' The case has attracted the attention of your uncle, 
 Dr Atkinson, who during his late studies abroad paid 
 particular regard to the diseases of the eye. He has 
 proffered his services to perform an operation for Wil- 
 liam, by which he feels nearly confident he can restore 
 his sight ; and I this morning received a note from him, 
 requesting me to inform Mr Howell he would be here 
 for that purpose, this afternoon.' 
 
 The mention of this circumstance diverted the 
 thoughts of the girls from the lovers to the proposed 
 operation, and Mrs Philips had hardly satisfied all their 
 inquiries upon this subject, before they reached the 
 dwelling of Mr Howell. He was absent, and finding 
 his wife occupied with household cares, they directed 
 their course to the garden, where they were told that 
 they would see William. On entering it, a girl below 
 the ordinary size, of a slight figure, approached them, 
 
36 
 
 having in one hand a watering pot, and in the other a 
 garden trowel. A gingham frock, an apron and van- 
 dyke as white as snow, with a ' sun-bonnet' of the sim- 
 plest fashion and materials, composed her dress, — and 
 an exclamation from Matty made her known as Fanny. 
 
 For a moment, Helen felt the romantic kind of in- 
 terest, with which the account given by her aunt had 
 inspired her but an instant before, cool down into an 
 ordinary curiosity. But as Fanny respectfully saluted 
 Mrs Philips, then with an affectionate familiarity re- 
 turned the hearty ' good morning ' of Sarah and Matty, 
 and then though with some embarrassment went through 
 an introduction to herself, Helen decided that take her 
 altogether,— the smile, the blush, — her pleasant voice, 
 and neat little figure, her appearance was entirely 
 agreeable — an opinion confirmed by whatever she did 
 or said. 
 
 1 Are you watering your flowers at this hour of the 
 day, Fanny ?' asked Mrs Philips — ' It is not so good a 
 time as the evening.' 
 
 ' 1 know it is not ma'am ;' replied she — ' I have only 
 been watering some that have been transplanted. They 
 are shaded, and the earth will not be hardened by it.' 
 
 1 Where is William ?' enquired Matilda, impatient to 
 introduce him to Helen. 
 
 ' Not far off;' — answered Fanny, ' there he is, near 
 the altheas, weeding.' 
 
37 
 
 % Weeding !' exclaimed Helen, c can he be trusted to 
 do that ?' 
 
 £ Yes indeed, * answered Fanny — c He takes all the 
 care of the garden, except what he allows me to do for 
 my own pleasure. 5 
 
 ' But how can he distinguish the weeds from other 
 things?' asked Helen, 
 
 * He would not make a mistake as soon as I should,' 
 said Fanny, smiling ; — ' indeed he often goes over what 
 I think I have made quite clean, and gathers weeds 
 enough to shame me.' 
 
 By this time William had caught the sound of fa- 
 miliar voices, and rising from a little bench on which 
 lie had been seated, he came forward, addressing each 
 by their name. 
 
 * And where are Jasper and Hugh ?' asked he. * I have 
 not,' he continued, using a mode of speech not uncom- 
 mon to the blind, c I have not seen them for some time.' 
 
 Mrs Philips accounted for their absence, and added 
 that she had just left some books in the house, which 
 Jasper had sent him. 
 
 During this conversation Helen observed him atten- 
 tively. The expression of his face was intelligent, mild 
 and happy ; and the neatness of his dress remarkable. 
 
 i How finely your vegetables look, William — ' said 
 Mrs Philips, ' you quite surpass us — our garden is a 
 wilderness of weeds compared to yours.' 
 4 
 
38 
 
 1 You do not consider perhaps,' said be modestly, 
 that yours is twice the size of this, and that the labor 
 bestowed here, could not have been otherwise applied/ 
 
 1 And your bees, William ' — ' are they as industrious 
 as their master?' 
 
 ' Much more so,' said he. ' I hope to have some fine 
 honey for you this fall. There is one hive I call yours ; 
 and,' added he playfully, c I have charged them on no ac- 
 count to neglect that, whatever be the fate of the others. * 
 
 c Thank you, thank you, William ; — honey from your 
 bees will be sweet indeed,' said Mrs Philips. i Have 
 you,' continued she, * heard of a hive on a new construc- 
 tion, by which the injuries sustained from the miller are 
 prevented ?' 
 
 ' No I have not,' replied he, ' and I must be content 
 to be in ignorance of many improvements by which oth- 
 ers are benefited. But I have some kind little assist- 
 ants, who in good measure, I imagine, supply the place 
 of what you alluded to.' 
 
 { Who are they William ?' enquired Sarah. 
 
 ' The wrens,' replied he. ' They take care of my 
 bees for me.' 
 
 ' The wrens ! — how ? where ?' 
 
 4 In the morning they go the round of the hives, 
 which are you know open below. Here the miller 
 enters, and deposits its egg, and this the wren discovers 
 and removes before any mischief is done. See,' said 
 
39 
 
 he, turning to the garden fence, ' see the habitations I 
 have made to induce them to settle with me. I do not 
 believe there is a single house without a tenant.' 
 
 The girls looked as he directed, and saw a number of 
 neat little WTen houses, perched on the posts of the fence. 
 
 Mrs Philips now delivered her brother's message, 
 which was received with expressions of thanks and sat- 
 isfaction. The girls fancied that Fanny's color varied, 
 but William turned the conversation from himself, by 
 proposing a view of his flowers. Of these he had quite 
 a collection, to which every visitor had contributed 
 something. Nor was it restricted to the common and 
 hardy plants. He had also a number of delicate exot- 
 ics, which compensated him in winter, for the absence 
 of his summer favorites. Among these, was a fine Da- 
 phne odorata, that he had reared with great care and 
 patience, from a slip given him by Sarah, — and which 
 as much from that association, as its surpassing fra- 
 grance, was his especial pet. Then there was a ver- 
 bena, and a jasmine, — with geraniums of every variety. 
 It was affecting to observe, how his friends had provided 
 for the gratification of a sense, of the perceptions of 
 which, they had themselves so inferior a consciousness. 
 
 As they approached the hives the girls perceived the 
 odor of mignionette, and remarked an unusual quantity, 
 apparently sown at different times, to insure a succes- 
 sion of it. 
 
40 
 
 ' It is for the bees,' said Fanny. l It is said to afford 
 the finest honey, and William had a fancy to make the 
 experiment.' 
 
 * If your bees would come to see me, William,' said 
 Sarah, * I would give them miginonette too, but I sup- 
 pose it is too far for them.' 
 
 ' Not so far as they will go, if in want of provisions,' 
 replied he. ' Some persons have said they will go sev- 
 eral miles, though others say not much more than one.' 
 
 ' I should think it would tire them dreadfully,' said 
 Matilda, ' to fly so far, with their little thighs so heavy 
 laden.' 
 
 ' I am afraid it often does,' replied William — 6 besides, 
 for our own sakes we should supply them within a short 
 distance ; the time of such productive little laborers ought 
 not to be wasted in looking for materials. Those who 
 enter largely into the cultivation of bees, understand 
 this, and are at great pains to keep them in full employ. 
 They even transport them, hives and all, to favorable 
 situations.' 
 
 'Indeed,' said Sarah, 'they are so irritable and sus- 
 picious, I should not think that possible.' 
 
 ' O yes,' replied William, ' where there are enough 
 to make it worth while, they are removed like wander- 
 ing tribes in search of pasture. In the neighborhood of 
 Edinburgh, there are cultivators of bees, who send them 
 annually to the highlands; and in France a similar 
 
41 
 
 practice prevails. An individual there, having a manu- 
 factory of wax, and who is reported to have had several 
 hundred hives, was in the habit of sending them on long 
 journies, — halting near fertile fields, in which the little 
 workmen were let out during the day, and at night when 
 they retired to rest, were carried to a fresh pasture. 
 
 ' I have heard that in the east, too,' said Mrs Philips, 
 4 the bees are great travellers. In lower Egypt, the 
 inhabitants of different villages, bring their stock to- 
 gether ; each hive is marked with the name of the own- 
 er, and they are then placed in boats, which ascend the 
 Nile, to meet the advancing season. They proceed 
 slowly, stopping often ; and in this manner the bees, 
 gather the sweets of upper Egypt.' 
 
 ' O what a beautiful voyage !' cried Sarah, ' how 1 
 should like to go with them.' 
 
 < You might however have reason to regret it,' said 
 her mother, ' for they require to be attended with greal 
 caution. 1 remember to have read of an incident said 
 to have occurred on the coast of Asia Minor, which 
 shows that they are rather difficult subjects to manage. 
 A hive was overset in one of these floral expeditions, of 
 which William has been telling you, and the little voy- 
 agers were so enraged, and so furiously attacked the 
 seamen, that they were obliged to leap overboard, and 
 swim to shore at the risk of being drowned. — But 
 come, girls ; though you and I might like to pass the 
 4* 
 
42 
 
 day here, William and Fanny have probably something 
 better to do than attend upon us.' 
 
 William however insisted on detaining them till he 
 had collected bouquets for each, which being done, our 
 party resumed their walk. 
 
 An inquiry from Mr Philips at dinner turned the 
 conversation to the visit of the morning, and the situa- 
 tion and acquirements of William Howell. 
 
 c I am not surprised at his knowing a good deal,' said 
 Helen, ' because he can get that, from the books that 
 Fanny reads to him ; but I cannot imagine how he can 
 do every thing so neatly ; — I am sure I could not equal 
 it. with both my eyes. 
 
 1 No, that you could not,' said her uncle, ' nor any of 
 the rest of us probably. It is proved by instances more 
 striking than this of William, that when blind, the re- 
 maining senses are cultivated by necessity to a degree 
 of perfection, which we, who are under no such com- 
 pulsion, can not even understand. You would be as- 
 tonished at the facts recorded of blind persons, which 
 are nevertheless well attested.' 
 
 4 1 should think father," said Matty, ' that they would 
 break their necks twenty times a day.' 
 
 ' There is good reason why they should not do it 
 twenty times a day,' said Mr Philips, laughing,' but it is 
 certainly wonderful that they never do so at all. It 
 is a fact that they avoid dangers with an admirable 
 
THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 43 
 
 sagacity. When walking they perceive by the increased 
 resistance of the atmosphere, that they approach bodies 
 which might present hurtful obstructions. Their step 
 is firm, and cautious ; therefore less likely to be affected 
 by small inequalities ; and they observe and remember 
 with precision, such local peculiarities as may be ascer- 
 tained by touch or sound. They have been known to 
 be the best guides at night, through roads, uncertain 
 from their intricacy, and even when the ground was 
 covered with snow ; — of which an Englishman named 
 John Metcalf, commonly called ' blind Jack,' was a re- 
 markable instance.' 
 
 ' Father,' said Jasper, ' I lately read somewhere of a 
 blind sculptor.' 
 
 ' Yes, there is one on record, who made a statue of 
 king Charles 1st.' 
 
 1 O,' said Helen, ' that is impossible !' 
 
 * Why no, Helen,' said Richard, ' it is but the sense 
 of touch still — I can as well believe that, as that William 
 can make wren-houses, and know the weeds from the 
 flowers in his garden.' 
 
 c A more wonderful instance than that of the sculp- 
 tor,' said Mrs Atkinson, ' was Dr Moyes — a native of 
 Scotland, blind, I think from infancy, who made great 
 attainments in natural history and chemistry, on which 
 he lectured, and even performed his own experiments 
 with accuracy. And what will indeed appear incredible 
 
44 the children's week. 
 
 to you Helen, he lectured on the phenomena of light 
 and colors ; of which he had no experience, except that 
 the rays when refracted through a prism, produced 
 sensations more or less painful in his eye.' 
 
 ' As how, grandmamma ?' said Sarah. 
 
 ; The red ray was the most distressing to him. He 
 compared it to the touch of a saw. The fainter colored 
 rays caused less pain, and the green one was decidedly 
 agreeable. The sensation produced by it he likened to 
 that which he felt when passing his hand over a smooth 
 surface. This was an image by which he expressed 
 beauty also.' 
 
 * Dr Blacklock has, I think,' said Mr Philips, ' from 
 a combination of qualities, been more celebrated than 
 any other of this class of persons, and gained the affec- 
 tions of those who knew him, as much as he excited 
 their astonishment. He, too, was a Scotchman, born 
 in 1721, at Annan, of humble parentage ; but rendered 
 by his misfortunes, his talents, and his virtues, an object 
 of interest, admiration, and love. He was blind from 
 six months old, yet has been distinguished not only as 
 a Philosopher and Theologian, but as a Poet particu- 
 larly successful in descriptions of the outward world. 
 It has been said of him, " To posterity he will seem a 
 fable; as to the present age he is a prodigy." So 
 perfect, indeed, was his conception of visible objects, 
 that it has even been supposed to have been supernatu- 
 rally imparted to him.' 
 
45 
 
 i Well,' said Helen, ' I have done now, — after this, 
 nothing can surprise me.' 
 
 ' Yes, Helen,' said Jasper, ■ I have one more case to 
 tell, that will astonish you even now. What do you 
 think of a blind lady who could distinguish the colors of 
 flowers and silk by the touch ?' 
 
 ' Think,' repeated Helen, ' why that I don't believe 
 it. — I am not to be quizzed quite so easily, Mr Jasper, 
 as you may imagine.' 
 
 ' Instead of quizzing you, Helen,' said Mr Philips, 
 1 Jasper has not by any means told you all that belongs 
 to the wonderful case he refers to. — It is that of a lady, 
 who lost at once, by the small-pox, her speech, her 
 hearing, and her sight ; — at what age I don't know, but 
 I infer from the account, after she had attained to years 
 of maturity. Her touch and smell became wonderfully 
 perfect, and as Jasper has just told you, it is asserted 
 that she could distinguish colors. She was also sensible 
 of the presence of a stranger. Though thus cut off, 
 apparently, from all communication, yet her friends 
 contrived, by using her fingers, to converse with her, 
 and she would very readily in this way receive their 
 ideas. She distinguished individuals by their hands, 
 observing with the greatest accuracy any peculiarity 
 that marked them. Sometimes she would have re- 
 course to measurement, spanning the wrist, or taking 
 the length of the fingers. She wrote a fine hand, always 
 
46 the children's week. 
 
 preserving the regularity of the lines — and Helen — 
 mark this — if in writing, she omitted a letter, she would 
 discover it herself, and by writing it in the usual way, 
 , above the line, with a caret beneath, would correct the 
 omission.' 
 
 i O, uncle !' cried Helen, with an exclamation 
 amounting almost to a scream. 
 
 6 It does indeed nearly exceed belief,' replied he, 
 1 yet the case was subjected to the scrutiny and experi- 
 ments of Sir Hans Sloane, a celebrated physician ; who 
 decided that there was absolutely no imposition.' 
 
 4 In most of the cases,' said Mrs Atkinson, s where 
 persons seem thus to triumph over the disabilities under 
 which they are placed, there have been the greatest 
 pains and attention bestowed on them by others. While 
 we admire their attainments, we must render honor to 
 the virtue that has been exercised in their behalf; and 
 above all", adore the goodness of God, who, in appoint- 
 ing suffering, provides also its relief. We shall thus be 
 led to discern the moral purposes of these dispensations, 
 which otherwise might seem hard and incomprehensible. 
 You see, too, by what has been done, how much may 
 be done. There was a time wmen a prejudice prevailed 
 against the capacities of the blind — ' 
 
 * That was very cruel,' exclaimed Sarah. 
 
 4 It was rather ignorance than cruelty,' replied Mrs 
 Atkinson. ' Of this a somewhat striking instance occur* 
 
THE CHILDREN S WEEK. 47 
 
 red in the case of Nicholas Bacon, a descendant of that 
 celebrated Bacon, — whom you may remember, that 
 when still a child, queen Elizabeth used to call her 
 " little Lord Chancellor." He lost his sight in child- 
 hood, yet nevertheless applied himself closely to study, 
 and sought admission to the university, in one of the 
 cities in the Netherlands, where he resided ; but it was 
 refused on account of his blindness. He obtained it at 
 length, though with great difficulty ; and afterwards put 
 his opposers to shame, by becoming one of the most 
 respectable lawyers of his time.' 
 
 ' Perhaps,' said Helen, ' he may have gained suits 
 for some of the very persons, who would have prevented 
 his being educated.' 
 
 < It is not improbable,' replied Mrs Atkinson. * This 
 prejudice is now, however, removed. Should you, 
 therefore, ever have a friend or relation thus afflicted, 
 you will remember that there is encouragement for 
 every effort, and I need hardly remind you, that your 
 sympathy is due even to a stranger, under such circum- 
 stances. Dr Blacklock, though a man of great gentle- 
 ness, expressed a sentiment on this subject, which 
 should quicken our attentions to persons, who, whatever 
 else they have lost, have not lost their sensibility to 
 neglect. " The negligence, or wantonness," he says, 
 " with which the blind are too frequently treated, is an 
 enormity which God alone has justice to feel, or power 
 
48 the children's week. 
 
 to punish" — Now Jasper, 5 continued Mrs Atkinson, * I 
 have extracted my moral ; and as you have listened so 
 patiently, I will detain you no longer. I perceive that 
 you young folks have had enough of rationality for the 
 present, and, that it may not amount to a surfeit, — I 
 advise you now to take a dose of frolic and nonsense to 
 qualify it.' 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Bottom, — Are we all met? 
 
 Quince. — Pat, pat; and here is a marvellous convenient place 
 
 for our rehearsal. 
 
 Shakspearc. 
 
 The next day and the succeeding one, were devoted 
 to the entertainment of the visitors; — walks, rides, pros- 
 pects, and curiosities, in turn were offered. Nor was 
 it less an object with Mr and Mrs Philips to render 
 their own children happy than their guests. This occa- 
 sion had been anticipated as the recompense of their 
 good conduct, and their parents were determined that 
 they should not lose their reward. — Saturday had now 
 arrived, and so prodigal had they all been of their ways 
 and means, that with the exception of Richard and 
 Jasper, — who as long as a fish would, or would not 
 bite, had a resource, — the young people seemed not to 
 have a single pleasure left for the next week. — Mrs 
 Atkinson, however, knew better. A plan had occurred 
 to her, which while it promoted their happiness, would, 
 she thought, convey a lesson not entirely useless ; and 
 she was thinking how she should propose it so as to be 
 5 
 
50 
 
 most attractive, when a lamentation from Matty fur- 
 nished her an opportunity. 
 
 ' O dear,' exclaimed she, i one week is just gone, 
 and in one more Helen must go too' — what shall we do 
 on Monday, grandmamma ?' 
 
 ' I am afraid, Matty,' replied Mrs Atkinson, ( that you 
 are in the sad case of those who pursue pleasure too 
 eagerly ; — you have used up all your enjoyments, and 
 have now only idleness and languor left.' 
 
 ' Never fear, Matty,' said Hugh, * never fear ; I '11 be 
 bound that mother, or grandmamma will contrive some 
 entertainment for us.' 
 
 ' I think they 've done their part already,' said Sarah. 
 1 It is a pity if we cannot find our own pleasure for one 
 week.' 
 
 ' Yes indeed ;' said Mrs Atkinson, s and if you and 
 Helen will adopt a scheme I have in my head, in which 
 I think Richard and Jasper may be induced to join, we 
 will make these little spendthrifts, Hugh and Matty, 
 who have so long been consuming the labors of others, 
 work for their own pleasure. — And not only so, but you 
 may all thereby be enabled to contribute to the enjoy- 
 ment of others. — You will, I think, admit that we older 
 folks have some claim on you in this way ; besides, 
 young persons should learn that they are bound to pay 
 their proportion towards the pleasure of domestic 
 
THE CHILDREN^ WEEK. 51 
 
 society, — that they, too, must sometimes be the enter- 
 tainers.' 
 
 ! if some of our great schemers were only as sure 
 of approbation and cooperation as Mrs Atkinson, how 
 the business of improvement would go on ! — Every eye 
 was now turned to her ; and Jasper and Richard oppor- 
 tunely tapping on the window, and holding up their fish 
 in triumph, received a summons to enter. 
 
 i Come in, come in,' cried Sarah — ' we are met in 
 council, and we want you.' 
 
 The boys complied, — and Mrs Atkinson continued. 
 
 1 The suggestion I am about to make, I owe to one 
 of those old books which you know I love so to pore 
 over. In an account of the first French adventurers to 
 this new world, there is mention made of a trait of man- 
 ners characteristic of that pleasing people, who know so 
 well how to adapt themselves to circumstances, and to 
 extract happiness from trifles. About the year 1604, 
 the Sieur de Monts, accompanied by other gentlemen, 
 came to America. Henry the Fourth had granted 
 him a patent, constituting him Lieutenant General of 
 the territory, then called "Acadie," since, Nova Scotia. 
 De Monts afterwards returned to France, leaving 
 Pontrincourt, Champlain and others, at Port Royal. 
 Though they were subjected to many inconveniences 
 and hardships, they devised an expedient by which the 
 winter was rendered not only tolerable, but agreeable. 
 
52 
 
 This was instituting among the persons belonging to the 
 principal table, an order called " Uordre de bon temps." 
 Each took his turn to be caterer and steward for one 
 day, during which he wore the collar of the order, and 
 a napkin, and carried a staff. After supper he resigned 
 his offices and accoutrements, accompanied with the 
 ceremony of drinking a cup of wine, to the next in suc- 
 cession. The advantage of this institution was, that 
 each, anxious to be prepared for his day, failed not by 
 previously hunting, or fishing, or purchasing game and 
 fish of the natives, to be provided. The writer, in con- 
 nexion with this fact, makes two remarks that are 
 worthy of remembrance. One is, that these gentlemen 
 so conciliated the Indians by their manners, that they 
 had no difficulty in obtaining supplies, — by which we 
 learn that courtesy is not thrown away even on savages ; 
 —and the other is, that of the persons attached to the 
 expedition, which included a large number, only four 
 died during this winter, — of whom it was remarked that 
 they were " sluggish and fretful." ' 
 
 Mrs Atkinson paused, and her auditors looked for 
 further explanation. 
 
 1 Well, grandmamma ?' said Hugh. 
 
 ■ Now why,' resumed Mrs Atkinson, ' should not you 
 imitate this pleasant example ? You are not, indeed, 
 obliged to contend with inclement seasons, or to supply 
 the common wants of nature ; but you may make the 
 
53 
 
 device subserve other purposes ; — in short, you too, 
 may have an institution similar to " L'ordre de bon 
 temps, 1 by which you shall be bound to cater for each 
 other's amusement, and at the same time pay off some 
 of your debts to father, mother, and grandmother.' 
 
 ' Yes, yes,' cried Helen and Sarah, ' I see, I see, a 
 good thought ; we are much obliged to you, grand- 
 mamma.' 
 
 Jasper and Richard, however, exchanged looks and 
 smiles, that seemed to indicate rather a dubious state of 
 mind on the subject. Whether they deemed them- 
 selves too old, too wise, or too happy, to require any 
 such expedient we know not — but Mrs Atkinson prob- 
 ably did ; for watching her opportunity, she hinted to 
 them, that as the girls could not do without their assist- 
 ance, she was sure they would be too generous to refuse 
 it. This had the effect she intended, and having once 
 admitted that they could participate in the plan, the 
 boys became as eager as the rest. 
 
 ' Well, grandmamma, let us understand exactly what 
 you mean,' said Richard. 
 
 ' You will observe, then,' said Mrs Atkinson, ' there 
 being just six of you, that by commencing on Monday 
 next, you can preside like good little saints over the six 
 days of the week ; and each in your turn will be 
 pledged to produce something, either for the pleasure 
 of yourselves, or the graver part of the family ; — who 
 5* 
 
54 
 
 will have nothing to do but sit still and be entertained at 
 your expense.' 
 
 ' Yes indeed,' said Jasper, laughing, ' at our expense 
 I fancy it will be ! what the deuce can we do but make 
 ourselves ridiculous.' 
 
 ' No no,' cried Helen, ' I am not afraid of that — we 
 will not be so easily discouraged, Jasper. But what 
 are we to do, grandmamma ? give us some sort of 
 idea.' 
 
 ' You may tell a story,' replied Mrs Atkinson, ' or 
 introduce a new game ; — or you may contrive some- 
 thing from which instruction as well as pleasure is to 
 result: — anything, in short, which you believe will 
 excite agreeable and amiable feelings. It will not be 
 required that you should fill up the whole day for us in 
 this manner — it is enough if we are assured that you 
 will each furnish your part towards the sum of the 
 family enjoyment.' 
 
 ' I 'm sure I can't do anything,' said Matty, mourn- 
 fully, ' to amuse grown up people.' 
 
 ' Nor I neither,' said Hugh, in a tone equally dolo- 
 rous. ' I have n't forgot last new year's day, when we 
 undertook to make presents to father and mother and 
 grandmamma, and I gave father an ass I had painted, 
 because I had nothing else — how you all laughed at 
 me.' 
 
 ' That was a great shame, dear Hugh,' said Mrs 
 
55 
 
 Atkinson, ' I am sure I did not laugh, for I was sorry 
 enough for your mortification. But you must not be 
 disheartened ; I feel sure you will succeed this time.' 
 
 ' Yes, but grandmamma,' said Jasper, ' one thing 
 must be insisted on ; that is, if we undertake this thing, 
 we shall do it ourselves ; — or there will be neither 
 pleasure nor merit in it.' 
 
 ; O you need not fear any interference or assistance 
 from me ; I have no idea of troubling myself any fur- 
 ther about it, than merely to give you a good plan ; if 
 you cannot work it out yourselves, you are not worth 
 helping. I believe though,' continued Mrs Atkinson, 
 observing the disconsolate faces of the two youngest 
 children, ' I believe I must help Hugh and Matty — just 
 a little ' — 
 
 ' Well then,' said Jasper, ' only a little, — and only 
 them : the rest of us must take our chance.' 
 
 ' Now grandmamma go on, and tell us about the par- 
 ticulars,' said Sarah. 
 
 6 First then, for the insignia of the order — you must 
 have a collar of course.' 
 
 < By all means,' said Richard ; ' and pray let it bear 
 the inscription " Uordre, de bon temps " — I like the od- 
 dity of it.' 
 
 ' But ought we not,' asked Sarah, ' to have something 
 too, that seems to belong to ourselves — something ap- 
 propriate to us V 
 
56 - — ~— * — 
 
 1 Certainly,' said Mrs Atkinson, ' and this may be 
 supplied by a star, appended to the collar, in which by 
 the aid of your fancy and your pencils, you may place 
 what device you please.' |flfl 
 
 Jam 
 
 ' How long should the collar be ?' asked Helen, not 
 entirely indifferent perhaps to the effect of this new cos- 
 tume. ' How should it be worn ? not tight around the 
 throat, I hope ' — 
 
 ' About the length,' said Mrs Atkinson, ' and worn in 
 the same manner as you would wear a chain, or riband, 
 to which was suspended an eye-glass. It can be so 
 managed as not to be inappropriate to either sex.' 
 
 ' Then the staff — what sort of a thing should that be ?' 
 
 ' I have thought of something which will just suit your 
 purpose. You know the pretty little silver-tipped reed 
 cane that your uncle sent me when I first became lame ; 
 I thought it too slight, and put it aside — it will be just 
 the thing for this occasion.' 
 
 ' And the napkin ?' 
 
 'That of course is easily procured. The only diffi- 
 culty will be to get these fastidious boys, Richard and 
 Jasper, to wear it ; but I am sure it will cast a shade 
 upon their gallantry if they refuse.' 
 
 'The boys smiled, and did not demur; but they 
 chose not to commit themselves in the article of the nap- 
 kin. Mrs Atkinson however foreseeing that there might 
 be some difference of opinion on this point, proposed, 
 
THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 57 
 
 that being after all but an unimportant matter, it should 
 be omitted altogether, — which was agreed to. 
 
 1 How is the order of succession to be settled, grand- 
 mamma?' asked Jasper. 
 
 6 By lot I suppose, will be as good a way as any — 
 and as it is not to be supposed .that guests know their 
 fare till they are seated at the table, so each member of 
 our little institution has the right of preserving secrecy, 
 as to the description of pleasure he or she has provided 
 for their friends, till the time it is presented to them.' 
 
 1 Now girls,' said Jasper, ' go to work directly to pre- 
 pare the star and collar, or you will never be ready for 
 Monday.' 
 
 The girls commenced with alacrity. A blue ribbon 
 was furnished by Mrs Atkinson, on which they em- 
 broidered the motto of the order. The star required 
 more thought and time ; but at length, — the result of 
 their combined forces, Mrs Atkinson included, — it shone 
 forth with golden rays, to the admiration of all. The 
 centre of one side was reserved for the device. This 
 was a group of laughing winged children, some sup- 
 porting a basket, others holding over it a slight drapery, 
 which concealed its contents. On the reverse was this 
 motto, — for which they were indebted to Shakspeare, 
 
 ' It is nothing — nothing in the world 
 
 * Unless you can find sport in our intents.' 
 
 The whole was compressed within a proper size, and 
 being neatly executed, was quite ornamental, 
 
58 the children's week. 
 
 ' It is very pretty,' said Matty, ' but I don't think I 
 understand it yet, for all the talk there 's been about it; 
 do grandmother explain it to me.' 
 
 c That I will dear — first these winged children are 
 emblematic of love — not saucy Cupid, but love in the 
 purest form in which it is ever-seen on earth; — as it 
 appears in innocent and affectionate children. The 
 basket represents gifts, or service of some description, 
 the veil thrown over it intimates the secrecy in which 
 you will perfect your several plans ; and the motto, to 
 prevent disappointment, forewarns your friends that they 
 must not expect great things, but be so good as to value 
 your efforts, for the sake of your good intention.' 
 
 1 Now I understand it very well, but T like the veil the 
 best of all — how pleasant it will be to have a secret for 
 every day in the week !' 
 
 ' I dare say !' said Mrs Atkinson, ' whether to keep 
 or to guess. Secrets are always a spur to the pulses of 
 such little people as you, Matty.' 
 
 ' But when are father and mother to know our plans ?' 
 asked Hugh. 
 
 4 This evening at tea we will unfold the mighty pro- 
 ject,' replied his grandmamma — l but now that every 
 thing else is arranged, suppose we settle the order in 
 which you are to preside as contrivers of " merry 
 disports." ' 
 
 This was done ; the lots were drawn, and Monday fell 
 to Sarah; — until which time we will bid the party farewell. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 Come, quench your blushes ; and present yourself 
 That which you are, mistress o' the feast. 
 
 The Winter's Tale. 
 
 The plan for the coming week received the hearty- 
 concurrence of Mr and Mrs Philips. They even ex- 
 tended their approbation so far as to decree that it 
 should be a domestic Saturnalia ; — that all restraints 
 should be abolished, and every furtherance granted to 
 the projects of the young people. Hugh, in his heart 
 wished that the statute framed thus liberally, could be 
 so construed, as to take in the case of ' Warder versus 
 Finnette,' But as his mother, though indulgent in all 
 other respects, had remained immovable on that point, 
 he deemed it most politic not to revive the debate — the 
 more so, that by some secret connivance, Dennis the 
 gardener, had on both occasions of his going to town, 
 omitted to take Warder. Suppressing his inclinations 
 therefore, Hugh consoled himself by frequent visits to 
 his poor imprisoned friend, and by such attentions as 
 could alleviate his captivity. 
 
60 
 
 On Monday morning Sarah took her seat at the 
 breakfast table, the collar falling over her fair neck, 
 and a few rays of the star just peeping above her belt. 
 A slight embarrassment seemed to mingle with the sense 
 of her new and responsible character ; and though with 
 a tolerably successful air, she playfully flourished her 
 staff of office on entering the room, she modestly laid it 
 aside as soon as she had, in the prescribed form, 
 asserted her honors. As soon as breakfast was over 
 she retreated ; and in a few moments, Jenny, a little 
 servant girl, entered, charged with notes to all the 
 family, requesting in Sarah's name, the favor of their 
 company to tea, that afternoon. Answers of acceptance 
 were of course returned, upon which Jenny was soon 
 seen setting forth towards the village, but as no ques- 
 tions were to be asked, or restraints imposed, it was 
 suffered to pass without remark. In like manner, when 
 Sarah demanded a surrender of the pantry, and closet 
 keys, they were yielded without hesitation, unaccom- 
 panied by any ill-timed inquiries. We will not ourselves 
 be too curious. Suffice it to say, that during the whole 
 day, Sarah was observed to hold intimate intercourse 
 with Dinah and Jenny ; that wherever she was seen, 
 there was a careful, and even perplexed expression on 
 her usually placid face, which excited suspicions, in 
 spite of the well-bred silence which the family had im- 
 posed on themselves. When seated at dinner, it w T as 
 
61 
 
 remarked that her heightened color, betrayed a nearer 
 approach to the fire, than she was wont to make at that 
 season ;^an^wice she actually left the table in pertur- 
 bation, fts^Hppaething had been forgotten. 
 
 Mrs Philipsynotwithstanding the license she had 
 given, felt a little queerly, it must be owned, at the idea 
 that Sarah had probably invited several guests, and that 
 the reputation of her own housekeeping might be in- 
 volved in this enterprise. She began to repent of the 
 freedom she had permitted, and could scarcely refrain 
 from a sly investigation as to the actual state of the 
 preparations. To this she was the more tempted, as 
 Jenny, acting as the agent of her young mistress, was 
 flying about with a reckless activity, that boded no 
 good. The frequent rattling of China and glass, set 
 her nerves in a flutter ; and once she could with diffi- 
 culty suppress a scream, as the little subaltern dashed 
 through the hall with an astral lamp in her hand. — Mrs 
 Philips was, however, upon honor, with both her 
 daughter and her husband, who, pleased to observe the 
 awakened energies of Sarah, had in reply to his wife's 
 hints at domestic loss and inconvenience, the folly of 
 expecting too much from such a girl, &c, &c, requested 
 that Sarah might be neither advised nor controlled — 
 declaring that he would rather half the china, glass, and 
 lamps in the house were destroyed, than that her well 
 intended efforts should be repressed. Mrs Philips 
 6 
 
62 the children's week. 
 
 was, therefore, reduced to quiet endurance. This is 
 saying a good deal, both for her own good temper, and 
 her regard to her husband's wishes, when we consider 
 that she was of that uneasy generation, called careful 
 housewives ; who, from a habit of attending to the 
 minutiae of their department, insensibly acquire a belief 
 that no one can do anything as well as themselves — 
 who, sometimes, in the convenience of the present mo- 
 ment, overlook a principle, by which in the end a 
 greater amount of comfort and enjoyment is obtained. 
 
 Mrs Atkinson, on the contrary, who had long since 
 exercised this unquiet spirit, if, indeed, she had ever 
 been possessed by it, and who could be happy even if 
 everything was not in its proper place, provided that 
 smiles were where they should be — enjoyed the bustle 
 of Sarah and her operations. Her curiosity was once, 
 it is true, a little excited by certain subterranean pro- 
 ceedings, and by the fact that Dennis, slily smuggled 
 into the cellar, was apparently advancing Sarah's plans 
 — but she had no alarms. The time, however, was at 
 hand, when all anxiety and conjecture were to cease. 
 
 To the relief of Mrs Philips, it proved that Sarah 
 had very discreetly invited only two families, and those 
 their most intimate acquaintances. The little party was, 
 therefore, of so unrestrained a character, as would ad- 
 mit of any explanations and apologies — these, however, 
 were uncalled for. The refreshments appeared in the 
 
63 
 
 best time and order ; and Mrs Philips, as she beheld 
 the salver groaning with cakes of various kinds, and 
 observed the complacency with which Jenny strained 
 every muscle in its support, was utterly at a loss to 
 explain this unprecedented energy and capacity, without 
 a command or direction from herself. Her usual 
 sagacity was at fault. She forgot to take into the account, 
 that Dinah and Jenny were acting under a new and 
 agreeable impulse. Sarah, too, with admirable atten- 
 tion supplied whatever was lacking on the part of her 
 coadjutors. If an empty cup was forgotten, or a child 
 neglected, a timely hint to Jenny corrected the inad- 
 vertency ; or if the coffee betrayed that a hasty hand 
 had disturbed it, — she slipped out of the room to en- 
 treat that Dinah would be more careful. 
 
 The evening passed cheerfully. At the proper time, 
 the entrance of a form of ice cream, explained the 
 mysterious labors of Dennis ; and we may be permitted 
 to doubt, if Cheops himself, contemplated his pyramid, 
 with as much satisfaction as Sarah beheld hers, in all its 
 fair proportions ! the most daring and solicitously at- 
 tended labor of the day. It would be vain to attempt 
 a description of her pleasure, at the encomiums passed 
 upon it ; — it was, in short, pronounced a chef d'ceuvre ; 
 and as soon as their guests had retired, Mr Philips 
 giving Sarah an affectionate kiss, thanked her for the 
 gratification she had afforded him. 
 
64 
 
 1 1 see, my daughter,' said he, ' that the expression 
 of my wishes is not lost upon you ; and that however 
 your taste might lead you to other things, you will not 
 neglect more ordinary objects if duty require it. From 
 your remarkable success, too, on this occasion, I should 
 judge that perfection in these arts will cost you little 
 time ; for you seem, either by intuition, or inheritance, 5 
 said he, turning with a smile to his wife, 'to have nearly 
 attained it with a single effort.' 
 
 'O indeed, indeed, I cannot take all this praise,' cried 
 Sarah, ' I never could have succeeded unless Dinah ' — 
 
 ' Hush, hush,' interrupted Mrs Atkinson, 'details are 
 superfluous. We know very well that in this age of 
 " Associations " nothing is effected without combination. 
 All we have to do is to admire the result.' 
 
 ' Pardon me, grandmamma,' said Mr Philips, ' though 
 I like the result, I like Sarah's ingenuous disclaimer still 
 better ' — here take another kiss for that.' 
 
 Mrs Philips in the mean time, having had her own 
 anxieties, was not without her peculiar satisfaction. In 
 addition to the pleasure with which she observed the 
 success of her daughter, she enjoyed also the agreeable 
 emotion produced by the confirmation of a favorite 
 opinion — a sentiment to which females are more sub- 
 ject perhaps, because their judgments are not invaria- 
 bly received at first with that deference to which we 
 believe them entitled. 
 
65 
 
 ' You know, my dear,' said she to her husband, with 
 an air a little triumphant, ' you know I have always said 
 Sarah would learn these things fast enough when neces- 
 sary.' 
 
 * Yes,' replied Mr Philips, good humoredly, ' I know 
 you have, and no one is better pleased than I am to find 
 you were right. I believe, too,' he added with a smile, 
 and an emphasis she readily understood, ' we never 
 differed about the matter, but as to when it is necessary 
 to learn them.' 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Jest and youthful jollity, 
 
 * * * 
 
 With mask and antique pageantry. 
 
 L'allegro. 
 
 When the family assembled on Tuesday morning, 
 Jasper appeared as steward of the day ; but having 
 finished his breakfast, he took off the collar, at which 
 Helen surprised, asked him what he meant. 
 
 c I mean,' replied he, that I cannot make myself a 
 spectacle to please you girls. I will comply in other 
 respects, but as to sporting this thing ! — upon my word 
 you must excuse me. The staff, I have no objection 
 to,' and placing it under his arm with a knowing beau- 
 like air, he bowed to Helen — ' Your most obedient, 
 humble servant Miss Helen, in all things — but the 
 collar.' 
 
 ' Uncle/ said she, appealing to Mr Philips, l is that 
 right ? It is a breach of our rules — ' 
 
 Then it certainly is not right,' replied he. ' Jasper 
 should conform as well as the rest.' 
 
 1 There sir,' cried she, ( you hear what uncle says — ' 
 
67 
 
 * Why father,' said Jasper, in a tone of remonstrance, 
 € I am going down to the village — ' 
 
 ' That indeed,' said Mr Philips, i alters the case. 
 We may indulge ourselves at home, and with our inti- 
 mates, in little devices to promote innocent amusement ; 
 but we should avoid what might be considered affecta- 
 tion or a display of superior refinement. That which 
 is harmless, even improving, if judiciously managed, 
 may otherwise become fantastic, and absurd. Jasper 
 is right, Helen — you must excuse the collar. I dare 
 say he will not be the less devoted to the interests of 
 the order, because for a while he lays aside its symbol.' 
 
 Helen assented, and the matter was amicably settled. 
 
 'And now ladies and gentlemen,' said Jasper, ' have 
 the goodness to expect nothing from me, till the evening, 
 when J shall consider myself your devoted.' 
 
 Though it was as vain as impertinent to conjecture 
 in what way this was to be manifested, Helen could not 
 entirely suppress her curiosity ; and more than once 
 during the day, broke short her song, or laid down her 
 book, to wonder what were Jasper's intentions. 
 
 ' Have you any idea, Sarah ?' 
 
 ' No, not the least — I heard him ask grandmamma to 
 give him a piece of black silk, about as big as a man's 
 hat, and to lend him her father's gold snuff box, — but 
 what he can want of such things I am sure I can't tell.' 
 
 The tea hour arrived without any discoveries, when 
 
68 the children's week. 
 
 to the surprise, of Helen, Jasper did not appear. Half 
 past six came — seven — eight — still no Jasper, nor signs 
 of any thing unusual. 
 
 1 I really suspect,' said she to Sarah, ' that he means 
 to cheat us ; — he has never entered very heartily into 
 our plan. Do tell us Richard, if you know any thing 
 of Jasper's manoeuvres ?' 
 
 ' Not I indeed,' replied he — I have not been at all in 
 his confidence.' 
 
 ' Hush — hush,' said Sarah — f The hall door opens — 
 and softly too, as if some one entered slyly. Do look 
 Matty — that must be Jasper.' 
 
 Matty followed by Hugh peeped into the hall, but 
 immediately retreated with marks of surprise and 
 confusion. 
 
 1 Mother, mother,' said the former there 's a gentle- 
 man and lady in the entry — ' 
 
 'The queerest looking creatures too,' said Hugh, 
 1 that ever I saw !' 
 
 Mrs Philips was about to ring for a servant to attend 
 the visitors, when the parlor door opened, and two per- 
 sons, corresponding to the description given by Matty 
 and Hugh, entered. They were dressed in the style of 
 '76 ; — the gentleman in a suit of purple velvet, — with 
 an embroidered white satin vest ; his hair frizzed and 
 powdered, and confined behind in a black silk bag, — 
 brilliant buckles in his shoes, and a sword by his side : 
 
THE CHILDREN S WEEK. 
 
 69 
 
 the lady in a rich brocade, — a lilac ground overspread 
 with flowers as large as life, and of every hue. From 
 the sleeve, which terminated a little below the elbow, 
 hung immense ruffles ; and the bottom was festooned so 
 as to display a yellow quilted silk petticoat. Her hair was 
 dressed over a cushion, and on the top of this was placed 
 a fantastical lace" cap — but to the amusement of some, 
 and the astonishment of others, both the lady and her 
 attendant wore black masks ! 
 
 A hum of whispers circulated through the room. 
 
 1 Why 'tis Jasper to be sure,' said Helen to Sarah. 
 
 1 Yes, but who can the other be ?' replied Sarah. The 
 maskers having made their mute salutation to the elder 
 members of the family, now directed their course to 
 the girls ; Hugh and Matty following them — at first 
 with a respectful observance, then a half suppressed 
 titter, till at length, — his mirth getting the better of his 
 good manners, — Hugh laughed outright. Upon this 
 the mute gentleman turning towards him with a mena- 
 cing air, touched his sword, as if on the point .of chas- 
 tising his impertinence. 
 
 Hugh though instinctively shrinking at the hint of cold 
 steel, speedily recovered, provoked by it to even a more 
 unceremonious approach to the mysterious visitor, 
 
 ' Just as if I didn't know you Jasper !' cried he, at 
 the same time catching hold of the skirt of his coat. 
 
 ( Begone !' exclaimed the mask, throwing himself into 
 
70 THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 
 
 a theatrical attitude, " I'll make a ghost of him that 
 stops me." 
 
 Whether the tones of the voice, — evidently artificial, 
 were alarming, or that the language was portentous, we 
 cannot say ; but certain it is, Hugh fell rather more 
 into the rear — at the same time guarding against any 
 constructions unfavorable to his courage. 
 
 ' You needn't think I'm afraid of you sir, for all that,' 
 said he. 1 1 know? said he to Matty, who was a little 
 doubtful,' I know it is Jasper — only he looks so big with 
 those clothes on. 1 wish Warder was here ; he'd find 
 him out quick enough.' 
 
 Jenny had by this time discovered that something re- 
 markable was going on in the parlor. Under pretence 
 of snuffing the candles, she had taken a view of the 
 strangers, and then leaving the room with her head over 
 her shoulder, had reported her observations to Dinah, 
 who forthwith stationed herself near the parlor door. 
 
 4 1 'spose it's master Jasper,' said she to Matty, who 
 asked her opinion,' for he made me get him a pair of 
 master's silk stockings to-day, unbeknown to missess — 
 but as to that woman with him, she looks just as if she 
 had come down out of the picter up stairs.' 
 
 The unknown gentleman released from the trouble- 
 some interference of Hugh, now approached Helen and 
 Sarah, and bowed profoundly. 
 
 * Permit me the honor,' said he, ' of introducing Miss 
 
 
71 
 
 Biddy Bloom, who though a revolutionary heroine, as 
 you may guess by her appearance, is still a great ad- 
 mirer of the young. — Miss Biddy, Miss Lee — Miss 
 Philips, Miss Biddy.' 
 
 During this ceremony, conducted with much parade 
 of tone and gesture, the fair unknown curtesied, fanned 
 herself furiously, but did not speak. 
 
 ' Pray did Miss Biddy lose her tongue in the revolu- 
 tion ?' asked Helen, laughing. 
 
 ' No indeed, ' replied the mask — ' I am assured that 
 it wagged throughout the whole seven years with the 
 greatest effect ; and has more than once, unaided, 
 silenced a battery ; — but her profound respect for you, 
 exceeds even her loquacity. — Be encouraged Miss 
 Biddy ' — he continued in a tender tone, ' believe me 
 you have nothing to fear from either of these ladies. 
 They are no prodigies — ' 
 
 Here Helen and Sarah were much disposed to retort 
 upon the saucy speaker, but their wit was cowed by the 
 presence of the unknown mask. 
 
 ' This,' continued the gentleman, ' is Mr Richard 
 Lee ; just perched at college — a contributor to a colle- 
 giate newspaper — writes verses and guesses enigmas — 
 is what is called a " promising youth " — Mr Lee, Miss 
 Biddy.' 
 
 Richard bowed, and Miss Biddy, still speechless, 
 extended her hand — then, as if abashed at her own ad- 
 vance, withdrew it, and curtesied. 
 
72 the children's week. 
 
 Matty and Hugh were endeavoring meanwhile to sift 
 their grandmamma, who of course was supposed to be 
 at the bottom of the mystery ; but she protested so 
 seriously her ignorance, that they could not doubt it. 
 
 The gentleman now approached Mrs Philips, and 
 taking out his snuff-box, after tapping it lightly, offered 
 it to her with the air of an ancient beau. 
 
 ' There Jasper !' cried his mother, l your box would 
 betray you if we had doubted before — now have done 
 with your foolery, and tell us who it is you have brought 
 here.' 
 
 " ; O curiosity ! thy name is woman,' " cried Jasper, 
 removing his mask, and resuming his natural voice ; 
 ' even my respectable mother cannot resist thee. — But,' 
 said he gravely, and with an air of entreaty, ' will you 
 promise me, if I inform you, that you will forgive me ?' 
 
 ' Forgive you ! nonsense — there's nothing to forgive.' 
 
 1 Indeed — indeed you must give me your word — 
 there is more in this than you think.' 
 
 Mrs Philips, struck with the tone in which this was 
 uttered, and naturally apprehensive, became uneasy. 
 The idea immediately presented itself, that Jasper hav- 
 ing done something wrong, was taking this way to evade 
 her displeasure. — t 
 
 ' Jasper,' said she, ' don't trifle with me — tell me at 
 once what this means — ' 
 
 1 Well,' said he, with a look not intended to allay her 
 
73 
 
 anxiety, c well, if I must, — I must ;' and leading the 
 lady up to his mother, whose countenance exhibited 
 an odd contrast to the absurd figures before her, he at 
 the same moment removed the mask, and revealed 
 Frederick Hammond ! 
 
 This unexpected disclosure produced a burst of 
 pleasure. Mr. Philips advancing to Frederick, gave 
 him a hearty welcome ; and Mrs Philips, while she 
 rebuked Jasper's roguery, acknowledged that she was 
 much more than compensated for any fears he had 
 mischievously inspired. 
 
 Enquiries now poured forth from all sides. 
 
 f Where did you get your fine clothes, Jasper ?' said 
 Matty. 
 
 1 Your bag too ?' said Helen. 5 
 
 ' And your sword Jasper ?' said Hugh — ' I should 
 like to know where you got that.' 
 
 c Mrs Hammond furnished us with every thing,' re- 
 plied he. You know she has a quantity of old fashioned 
 gear that belonged to her father and mother — but oh 
 the sport we had in dressing ! It almost killed me.' 
 
 i What put it in your heads to disguise yourselves ?' 
 asked Sarah, aside to Jasper. 
 
 1 just to break up the stiffness of the business,' said 
 he — ' You may suppose Frederick felt a little queer as 
 well as myself, and we thought the best way was to 
 work it into a joke.' 
 7 
 
74 the children's week. 
 
 Frederick and Jasper had now to undergo a thorough 
 examination. They were turned about and about ; and 
 Mrs Atkinson as much amused as the young folks, lived 
 over again the splendid times of her youth, calling 
 up the long forgotten images of padusoys, ducapes, 
 negliges, hoops, he, &ic, — till Frederick begged to 
 retire a moment, that he might disrobe. Having re- 
 joined the circle in his proper shape, disencumbered in 
 mind as well as body, he was able to parry the jokes 
 which assailed Miss Biddy from all quarters ; and to 
 contribute his share to the merriment of the evening. 
 
 What can more certainly insure happiness than the 
 conquest over angry feelings, — the sacrifice of pride, — 
 the reconciliation of friends, — the approbation of those 
 we love ! If the spirits of our young readers ever want 
 a cordial, let them try some portion of this prescription. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Nor some reproof yourself refuse 
 From your aggriev'd bow-wow. 
 
 Cowper, 
 
 The family were seated at table on Wednesday 
 morning, when Mrs Philips in surprise enquired 
 1 where 's Hugh ?' 
 
 She had scarcely spoken when the door slowly 
 opened, and with an awkward step, and a countenance 
 in which bashfulness and satisfaction were ludicrously 
 mingled, he appeared, holding the door, as if wanting 
 resolution to enter. 
 
 ' Come Hugh, come in,' cried Jasper — ' why man, 
 you look more like a sheep than a boy.' 
 
 This address not increasing his confidence, he was 
 about to take to his heels, when his father said in an 
 encouraging tone, ' come Hugh, wear your honors like 
 one who is able to sustain them.' 
 
 1 Here Hugh,' said Richard, making room for him, 
 here is a seat by me ; I cannot eat my breakfast if you 
 don't come.' 
 
76 the children's week. 
 
 This action, and the good-natured look that accom- 
 panied it, reassured Hugh, and he approached the 
 table ; — but Jasper could not refrain from another hit. 
 
 c Hold up your staff my boy ; — don't wear it between 
 your legs, as Ben Bashful did his sword.' 
 
 Hugh had now however fairly made his entree, and 
 obeying Jasper's directions, did indeed raise his staff 
 with a threatening gesture, which showed him both 
 willing and able to use it manfully. But perceiving by 
 his mother's countenance that the time and place were 
 unfitting, he quietly seated himself. 
 
 ' And what Hugh are we to expect from you to-day ?' 
 asked Mr Philips. 
 
 1 Nothing till after dinner, father,' said he. ' Very 
 well,' replied Mr Philips, ' we shall then have the 
 pleasure of anticipation so much the longer.' 
 
 If there were any conjectures as to the intentions of 
 Hugh, they were soon quieted by the occupations of 
 the morning, and he was left to mature his plans without 
 question or molestation. — Once indeed he was arrested 
 when proceeding in ' double quick time ' to his grand- 
 mother's room, by an enquiry from his father, with 
 which he would have willingly dispensed. 
 
 ' Hugh, my son, has Berrian been to mend the gar- 
 den gate ?' 
 
 1 No sir,' said Hugh — then adding in some confusion, 
 'I forgot to carry your message to him.' 
 
77 
 
 * I am sorry for that Hugh ; you must then go imme- 
 diately. I cannot suffer the garden to be exposed.' 
 
 Hugh looked disconcerted. 'Is it very necessary 
 father ? must I go to-day V 
 
 t Why no,' replied Mr Philips, reminded by Hugh's 
 emphasis of what he had forgotten* ' I will not to-day 
 interfere with any special business you may have on 
 your hands ; but as the thing must not be delayed, I 
 will go myself. That your forgetfulness however may 
 not go entirely unrebuked, come to the parlor, and give 
 me your time and attention a few moments. — ' 
 
 t There,' said Mr Philips, opening a book, ' read that 
 passage aloud. It is so appropriate that I think you 
 cannot fail to make good use of it. The object of the 
 writer, a French author of great celebrity, is to enforce 
 what you have often heard from me, the destructive 
 consequences of inattention, even in small things. 5 
 
 Hugh took the book and read as follows. 
 
 " I remember being once in the country a witness to 
 the numberless minute losses, that neglectful house- 
 keeping entails. For the want of a trumpery latch, the 
 gate of the poultry yard was forever open ; there being 
 no means of closing it externally, it was on the swing 
 every time a person went out ; and many of the poul- 
 try were lost in consequence. One day, a fine young 
 porker made his escape into the woods, and the whole 
 family, gardener, cook, milk-maid, Sic, presently turn- 
 
78 the children's week. 
 
 ed out in quest of the fugitive. The gardener was the 
 first to discover the object of pursuit, and in leaping a 
 ditch to cut off his further escape, got a sprain that 
 confined him to his bed for the next fortnight ; the cook 
 found the linen burnt, that she had left hung up before the 
 fire to dry ; and the milk maid, having forgotten in her 
 haste to tie up the cattle properly in the cow-house, one 
 of the loose cows had broken the leg of a colt that 
 happened to be kept in the same shed. The linen 
 burnt, and the gardener's work lost were worth full 
 twenty crowns ; and the colt as much more : so that 
 here was a loss in a few minutes of forty crowns, purely 
 for want of a latch, that might have cost a few sous at 
 the utmost ; to say nothing of the suffering of the poor 
 man, or the anxiety and other troublesome incidents. 
 Similar neglect was the occasion of repeated disasters 
 of the same kind, and ultimately of the ruin of a worthy 
 family." 
 
 Having finished, Hugh stood for a few moments in 
 silence ; then turning to his father said, ' I understand 
 this very well father, and I do not think I shall forget it ; 
 but I would rather go to Mr Berrian's myself.' 
 
 'Why?' 
 
 1 Because it is fair.' 
 
 ' I have observed, my son, that "fair" the most ex- 
 pressive word in a boy's vocabulary, is seldom misap- 
 plied by you ; but I should like, nevertheless, that 
 
79 
 
 you would explain yourself a little further in this in- 
 stance.' 
 
 * I mean, father, that as I broke the gate, you know, 
 — and then, too, forgot to do your message, — it is fair 
 that I should go, and not you ; besides, then I 'm sure I 
 shall not be so careless and forgetful again ; — and that's 
 fair too ; because, though I have given you a great deal 
 of trouble about it, you have been very patient and 
 good-natured. — So I would rather go — only just let me 
 speak to grandmamma first.' 
 
 6 Well Hugh, I believe that is best — a lesson is sel- 
 dom so well remembered by little chaps, as when im- 
 pressed by a sense of personal inconvenience.' 
 
 Hugh upon this set off very cheerfully, and returned 
 just in time for dinner. As soon as the cloth was re- 
 moved he withdrew, nor was his absence observed till 
 the door was thrown open, and in bounded Warder ! 
 who springing first on one, then on another, made the 
 circuit of the table, and then crouched in the most im- 
 ploring attitude at the feet of Mrs Philips. At the same 
 time, Hugh followed, bearing in his arms a flower-pot, 
 which he placed before his mother, containing the iden- 
 tical rose, that had proved such a " root of bitterness." — 
 It was all the work of a moment, and surprise prevented 
 explanation, till Mrs Philips perceived attached to the 
 collar of Warder, a paper addressed to herself; which, 
 on opening, was found to contain these lines. 
 
80 THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 
 
 < A prisoner at your feet, I seek 
 The favor of this gracious week ; 
 And deem me not too bold I pray, 
 For every dog must have his day. 
 Ah ! if you would but hear my case, 
 Compassion would those frowns efface. 
 It is indeed both clear and strong, 
 And shows a pup more wrong'd, than wrong. 
 
 • Refresh'd by sleep, with nerves new strung, 
 Ready for frolic, forth I sprung. 
 Was it a fault ? ah rather say, 
 Girls, boys, and puppies still obey 
 The self-same law. — As round I frisk'd, 
 Too little caring what I risk'd, 
 Finnette I spied, with eyes just clos'd, 
 As if she thought, perhaps, or dos'd. 
 Now sometimes she so condescends, 
 That we are quite familiar friends ; 
 And thinking rather long her nap, 
 I ventur'd just to give a tap. 
 But whew ! a fury now she seem'd ; 
 Her kindling eyes like lightnings gleam'd : 
 Deep ton'd, her rising passion shows, 
 And high her bristling back uprose. 
 Then turning round, my face she brush'd, 
 And quickly up the steps she rush'd. 
 
81 
 
 'T would rouse a grey-beard — why not me ? 
 
 Besides, if she would make so free, 
 
 I argued I might well pursue ; 
 
 What 's more, I b'lieve she meant it too. 
 
 She fled, I follow'd, till alas ! 
 
 The fatal bound I dar'd to pass. 
 
 And now within the smiling bower, 
 
 Sacred to every tender flower, 
 
 The artful jade, like all her sex, 
 
 Born to allure, to coax, and vex, 
 
 (For cats or ladies, power they love, 
 
 As mice and men too often prove,) 
 
 Sees with delight the deadly snare 
 
 Around me spread. Now here, now there, 
 
 She scolds and growls ; — she plays and peeps ; 
 
 And such a varied gambol keeps, 
 
 Till by and by a slender rose, 
 
 Alone our meeting doth oppose. 
 
 Miss Puss now throws aside the mask, 
 
 She lifts her paw — for what 1 you ask ; 
 
 My tingling ears could tell a tale 
 
 If tongues were given, that might avail 
 
 The provocation to declare, 
 
 And show what victims puppies are ! 
 
 But worse than this — ah wo ! that I 
 
 In such a boxing match should try ! 
 
 Suffice that in th' unequal strife, 
 
 8 
 
82 
 
 The precious rose was reft of life ; 
 And buds and leaflets strew the field, 
 Where fate had doom'd that I should yield. 
 You came — Puss fled — and I was lost ! 
 But malice still is often cross'd. 
 Some gentle spirit heard my sighs, 
 And lo ! your rose now meets your eyes ; 
 See ! once again it lifts its head, 
 Wounded and drooping, but not dead. 
 Now freedom give — and pardon say, 
 And I will guard you night and day.' 
 
 ' And so I will, and so you shall,' said Mrs Philips, 
 kindly patting Warder's head, who, as if understanding 
 all that passed, had kept his place. 
 
 Upon this, Hugh, clapping his hands and flourishing 
 his staff in triumph, shouted in ecstacy. — ' You 're free 
 Warder, you 're free ! and my own dog again !' 
 
 ' One word more, dear Hugh,' said his mother ; ' you 
 have given me that which is even better than pleasure, 
 — an admonition in time to correct an impatient and 
 hasty conclusion. I ought to have examined more 
 carefully into the extent of the injury, before I con- 
 demned poor Warder. And even had my flower per- 
 ished, which some kind friend has preserved, it was too 
 small a loss to myself, to require so great a sacrifice on 
 
83 
 
 your part — so if I forgive Warder, you must also for- 
 give me for the pain I have inflicted on you.' 
 
 i O mother,' said Hugh, ' I am sure I never meant' — 
 
 ' No dear, I dare say it was the farthest thing from 
 your kind little heart to intend any reproach — but we will 
 say no more about it, and consider the matter settled 
 in the way most agreeable to all parties — now go and 
 congratulate your dog as much as you please.' 
 
 Warder in the mean time evinced his participation 
 in the joy of this good understanding, and so shook his 
 tail, that if a dog's tail could be shaken off, such would 
 inevitably have been the fate of his. 
 
 ' I am glad to see,' said Mr Philips, observing him 
 caressing Mrs Atkinson, ' that Warder is making his 
 acknowledgements, where most due ; for I suspect, 
 Hugh, that if grandmamma had not availed herself of 
 her reserve in your favor, you would have been sadly 
 puzzled to indite his petition.' 
 
 ' I guess I should, indeed !' cried Hugh ; ' and I 
 fancy mother's rose would have been the worse too, if 
 grandmamma had not' — 
 
 ' Stop that prating, blabbing tongue,' said Mrs Atkin- 
 son, putting her hand on his mouth ; ' you destroy all 
 the stage effect of my performances. Hugh's explana- 
 tory notes,' continued she, laughing, ' remind me of 
 Moonshine's in the Clown's Interlude — " This lantern 
 
84 
 
 is the moon — I, the man in the moon — this thornbush 
 my thornbush, and this dog my dog." ' 
 
 1 Or rather,' said Mr Philips, ' of the sage precaution 
 of Bottom, " let him name his name, and tell them 
 plainly he is Snug the joiner." ' 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 E'en when we think the prize our own, 
 At once 'tis vanish'd, lost and gone. 
 
 Wilkie. 
 
 On Thursday morning, when Helen made her ap- 
 pearance in the parlour, it was observed that she wore 
 the insignia of the order rather more ostentatiously than 
 Sarah ; — the staff was sustained with more confidence^ 
 and she seemed to feel all the dignity with which she 
 was invested. 
 
 'Why, Helen,' exclaimed Jasper, with unwonted 
 gallantry, ' the staff in your hands becomes a sceptre — 
 you look as grand as queen Bess herself.' 
 
 1 Take care then, sir, how you presume,' answered 
 she. 
 
 ' Well, Helen,' said her uncle, after breakfast — ' I 
 know I must not ask questions — but we wait your 
 orders, you see.' 
 
 * I have only to say, uncle,' replied she, ' that I hope 
 you will be at home this evening, and that you, and 
 aunt, and grandmamma will meet us here after tea.' 
 
86 the children's week. 
 
 1 Without fail,' said Mr Philips — ' therefore, that 1 
 may be able to devote my evening to you, I shall lose 
 no time this morning.' 
 
 The boys obtained permission to invite Frederick 
 Hammond, and the family soon separating to their oc- 
 cupations, Helen retired with Sarah to their room. — 
 There was no note of preparation, except, that when 
 at dinner, an ink soil was remarked on the usually 
 neat dress of Helen, a conscious smile implied that it 
 had some connexion with the business of the evening. 
 
 As soon as the tea-things were removed, and the 
 centre table arranged, Helen placed upon it a green silk 
 bag, and a small box. Perceiving that attention was 
 attracted towards them, she said, ' remember our motto. 
 " It is nothing — nothing in the world," and I am afraid 
 you will all think so, when you see it. I have, how- 
 ever, done my best.' 
 
 ' That is all we can ask, dear,' said Mrs Philips. 
 4 What is here ?' continued she, approaching the table, 
 a number of ivory alphabets — ' 
 
 1 O no, aunt — they are only made of card paper — a 
 very humble imitation indeed. I have prepared them 
 for a game, which, though I have not the merit of in- 
 venting, is not, I believe, common.' 
 
 ' " A game," ' said two or three voices, c what is it 
 called ?' 
 
87 
 
 ¥ The name of it in French,' replied Helen, * is " La 
 Lotterie" — it is guessing words from certain letters 
 given to the players.' 
 
 ' O,' said Matilda, in rather a disappointed tone, ' I 
 have played that before.' 
 
 ' And suppose you have,' said Sarah, in a gentle but 
 reproving manner, ' you have not played it with Helen, 
 I 'm sure.' 
 
 ' I hope, Matty,' said her cousin, ' when you hear 
 the rules of the game, you will find it something new. 
 Was your game played with counters ?' 
 
 ' No,' answered Matty, a little sobered by her breach 
 of politeness. 
 
 1 Well then, this is, and that 's one difference — here 
 are some, with which grandmamma has supplied me.' 
 
 ' We are all attention, Helen,' said Mr Philips, 
 ' please to give us our lesson.' 
 
 ' I must refer to my tablet for that,' said she, ' where 
 luckily I wrote the rules when I translated them from 
 the French. Now you shall have them in order ;' and 
 opening the tablet she read as follows. 
 
 1st. One of the players takes the direction of jhe 
 Lottery, and each is director in his turn. 
 
 2d. No word shall have less than five letters in it. 
 
 3d. The Director chooses twelve letters from his 
 alphabet, selecting such as enter into the composition of 
 a number of words. He then thinks of five words 
 
88 the children's week. 
 
 which can be formed of these letters. These he notes 
 secretly, with a pencil, placing before them 1, 2, 3, 4, 0, 
 which figures denote the lots attached to the several 
 words, as number 
 
 1 is entitled to 18 fish, the highest prize. 
 
 2 " 12 " 
 
 3 " 8 " 
 
 4 " 6 " 
 " " 
 
 The word preceded by is le lot perdant, or even 
 worse than a blank. It is otherwise called le lot du 
 nigaud, or the booby's lot.' 
 
 1 Booby's lot !' exclaimed Matty, ' what a queer name !' 
 
 1 You will see why it is called so by and by,' said 
 Helen — ' but I must go back to my rules.' 
 
 4th. All the prizes are paid from the stock of the 
 Director. 
 
 5th. The words must begin with different initials. 
 
 6th. The Director, having decided on his words, 
 makes known his twelve letters ; and each player being 
 provided with an alphabet, places the same before him. 
 The Director then gives out the initials of one of the 
 words, and Les JEdipes, — that is the guessers, — en- 
 deavor to ascertain what it is, — naming whatever they 
 think it to be. 
 
 7th. At each word thus named, if it be not the right 
 one, the director must be paid one fish. 
 
THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 89 
 
 8th. After eight trials have been made without suc- 
 cess, the Director withdraws the word, and begins with 
 another. If the word thus withdrawn be a prize, or un 
 lot gagnant, the advantage is the Director's of course ; 
 who must otherwise have paid the -amount attached to 
 it. But if it be le lot du nigaud? he must restore double 
 to each person from whom he has received anything 
 during the unsuccessful search for the word. If, on 
 the contrary, the word be guessed, and prove a prize, 
 the lucky person receives whatever has been assigned 
 to it ; but if it turn out after all his labor le lot du ni- 
 gaud, he not only fails of a prize, but pays eight coun- 
 ters to the Director. The Director will perceive that 
 for his own interest, he should never leave le lot du ni- 
 gaud to be the last proposed. 
 
 9th. If a word be guessed at the first attempt, and it 
 be a lot gagnant, besides the prize due to it, each 
 player must pay the diviner a counter. But if it be le 
 lot du nigaud, besides the eight counters he is obliged 
 to pay the Director, he shall give one to each person.' 
 
 ' You see now Matty, I suppose,' continued Helen, 
 * why it is called the booby's lot.' 
 
 ' Yes, indeed, that I do,' replied she ; ' I'm sure I 
 hope that I shall keep clear of it.' 
 
 The rules having been read, and the parties seated, 
 they requested Helen to be the Director. 
 
90 THE CHILDREN S WEEK. 
 
 She complied, and alphabets and counters being diV 
 tributed to each person, she chose N. H. C. E. L. O. 
 T. R. D. A. B. G. and announced her first word as 
 commencing with H. 
 
 Herald, Heroical, Holder, Heron, Handle, Hinge, 
 Hoard, Halberd, were unsuccessfully proposed — her 
 word was Hegira, the second prize. 
 
 The lot was withdrawn, and her next word began 
 with L. 
 
 Larch, Legion, Linear, Lingo, were offered in vain. 
 
 'Libel?' said Mr Philips. 
 
 ' Right, uncle — and you 've won the highest prize.' 
 
 She next announced O as her initial. 
 
 Organ, Ordinal, Orange, Ocean, came in quick suc- 
 cession . 
 
 ' — O — ' said Richard, ' I can't think of a single 
 word beginning with O — yes, I have it, Ordeal.' 
 
 s You have it indeed, Monsieur J\igand,' cried Helen. 
 ? Eight counters due the Director, and it being your 
 
 ■k 
 
 first guess, please to pay one all round.' 
 
 ' The deuce !' replied he, ' 'tis a fatal ordeal to me I 
 think.' 
 
 By and by came Hugh's turn ; but poor fellow, he 
 had made so injudicious a selection of letters, that they 
 admitted of few combinations, and his three highest 
 prizes were guessed almost as soon as proposed. Hop- 
 ing to get rid as quickly of the lot du nigaud, he put 
 
91 
 
 that up, by announcing a word beginning with P. But 
 here his luck changed. Letters that had refused to 
 march under other leaders, flocked with marvellous 
 good will to the standard of P, and the eight variations 
 were played off, without drawiug forth the losing lot. 
 
 i I am sure,' cried Hugh, in a tone of mortification, 
 i any body would have thought that some would guess 
 Pistol—' 
 
 ' " Pistol," was it,' cried Jasper, i you 've missed 
 fire this time my little man.' 
 
 The game continued to circulate to the amusement 
 of the parties, and the lookers-on, until it gave rise to a 
 special trial of wit between Jasper and Helen. Pro- 
 voked to have been baffled by him repeatedly, she was 
 determined that this time he should not escape, and 
 felt quite sure of success, when he gave Z as the initial 
 of his first word. 
 
 1 I'm sure Jasper,' said she, with a complacent air, 
 ' even you can't find many words beginning with Z? 
 
 1 Perhaps not,' said he gravely. 
 
 1 Zodiac ?' said Helen. 
 
 Jasper cast his eye at the letters she had arranged 
 before her, repeating Z. O. D. I. A. C. — ' pardon my 
 presumption Miss Helen,' said he, you have not spelt 
 it right.' 
 
 6 Not spelt it right ? that 's likely indeed !' 
 
92 
 
 ' Likely or not Miss Helen, it is certainly true — the 
 word is spelt with a k.' 
 
 The point was disputed of course, but an appeal to 
 Walker settled it in Jasper's favor. 
 
 1 1 shall not give up so quickly,' said Helen — ' I know 
 I have seen it spelt without the k — let us see what 
 Johnson says.' 
 
 Johnson was also against her. 
 
 'Miss Helen I must trouble you further — pay me one,' 
 said Jasper, holding out his hand. 
 
 1 Wrong too after all — well there, take your pay. Is 
 it Zephyr ?' 
 
 ' No — pay me another.' 
 
 1 Zealot ? 
 
 ' No — pay me another — allowme to advise you too, 
 Miss Helen, before you guess again, to look over your 
 letters — I gave you no T.' 
 
 < Well, will Zealous then—' 
 
 ' Just so — and to reward your zeal, behold le lot du 
 nigaud .'' 
 
 ' That 's too bad !' cried Helen. 
 
 In the meantime Frederick, happy to be restored to 
 an intercourse with his young friends, had engaged 
 Matty and Sarah in a by-play of their own. Matty had 
 guessed and guessed, till like a little gambler she had 
 staked and lost her last fish. 
 
THE CHILDREN S WEEK. 
 
 93 
 
 * Do Sarah,' cried she, 'find out Frederick's word 
 for me, — all my counters are gone.' 
 
 ' And your wits too, Matty,' said Richard. 
 
 'No matter for that,' said she, good humoredly, 
 4 Sarah has enough for herself, and me too.' i It begins 
 with F — you say ' — said Sarah — ' F — F — let me 
 see ; and is a long word — why Friendship ? is it not ?' 
 
 Frederick laughed — £ yes Matty, you are right 
 enough, Sarah has found me out — ' 
 
 ' I 'm sure,' said Sarah, ' it would have been a shame 
 not to guess that, when you gave it.' 
 
 To keep up the interest of the game, Helen proposed 
 that they should try their skill in French words. ' Or 
 suppose,' said Mr Philips, l that you young gentlemen 
 should enter the lists with me in Latin—-' 
 
 ' No, no, father, I bar that,' answered Jasper ; ' no 
 Latin in vacation.' 
 
 Helen's proposal however was accepted, and an- 
 swered her purpose. The Directorship having again 
 come to Jasper, ' Now, said he, T must apprise you, that 
 I have taken a liberty with the game. Instead of four 
 prizes I have substituted one large one, and have omit- 
 ted the lot du nigaud, inasmuch as you will all be ni- 
 gauds if you don't guess what I give. Then instead of 
 one word, 1 have three, which employs all my letters, 
 and another besides. The three words are connected, 
 10 
 
94 
 
 and I give you the initial of the first, which is L ; my 
 letters are E. H. N. E. E. L. J. E. L. O. L. A. L. I. 
 
 These were placed, displaced, replaced, without any 
 satisfactory result, — and were pronounced the most re- 
 fractory selection, that had been made during the whole 
 evening, — till Mr Philips detected the meaning. 
 
 e The modesty of " Lajolie Helene,' " said he, ' may 
 have prevented her reading aright Jasper's well intend- 
 ed, if not very ingenious compliment, — but as for the 
 rest of us, we must take refuge in our stupidity, from the 
 charge of want of gallantry.' 
 
 This flourish of Jasper's gave a new turn to the play, 
 which was now made a vehicle for good-humored per- 
 sonalities, and the evening concluded merrily. 
 
 As they were retiring for the night, ' Thank you 
 Helen ;' said Mr Philips, ' I wish all lotteries were as 
 harmless as yours — or that the poor nigauds who ad- 
 venture in them, would find some better use for their 
 money.' 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Of Heaven ask virtue, -wisdom, health, 
 But never let thy prayer be wealth. 
 
 Cotton. 
 
 On Friday morning Richard appeared invested with 
 the honors and responsibilities of the order. As soon 
 as the breakfast was removed, he said he had a request 
 to make of his grandmother. 
 
 1 You are pretty sure of success with me, Richard, 5 
 said she, ' what is it ?' 
 
 1 That you will meet us this afternoon, in your 
 favorite wood.' 
 
 1 My dear boy, you have asked almost the only thing 
 I cannot grant, although it is, of all others, what would 
 give me the most pleasure — I have not been there since 
 my unfortunate lameness.' 
 
 1 But you can ride, you know, grandmamma — ' 
 
 * Only to the entrance,' replied Mrs Atkinson ; [ the 
 path into it, is so rough, that I should not dare walk 
 when I had reached it — though I cannot tell you, how 
 much when I pass by that wood, the favorite haunt of 
 
96 
 
 young days, I do long to take once more a complete 
 girl's frolic through it — but that's all over now.' 
 
 ' Well, but you will consent to ride to the wood, and 
 trust to us to get you further ?' 
 
 ' Yes, I may safely promise that much, I believe.' 
 
 Richard having obtained his chief object, — his grand- 
 mother's consent, requested the rest of the family to 
 accompany her. Four o'clock was the time appointed 
 for the excursion, and till that time, he, with his aids, 
 Jasper and Hugh, were seen passing to and fro, with 
 looks as important as if preparing for a general emigra- 
 tion ; and with the impetuosity common to such young 
 lords of creation, made known their wants. 
 
 ' Aunt, please to let me have two or three baskets,' 
 said Richard. 
 
 ' Mother, where can I find some pieces of carpeting ?' 
 said Jasper — ' Richard is in a great hurry, mother.' 
 
 These demands were no sooner complied with, than 
 another applicant appeared. 
 
 'Mother,' said Hugh, in a rather more reverential 
 tone, ' Richard and Jasper sent me for some twine — 
 won't you please to give it to me now, mother, for Jas- 
 per said he knew I 'd be all day getting it.' 
 
 This was scarcely done, when out of breath, back 
 came Jasper, and with one bound was at Sarah's door. 
 
 * Quick, quick Sarah, — let me in,' cried he. ' What 
 in the name of wonder do you girls lock yourselves in 
 
THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 
 
 97 
 
 for, at this time of day ?— Give us some green riband ; 
 quick now, that 's a good girl — and then run down 
 into the garden, and cut me a parcel of flowers — 
 and here — wait a minute do. till I speak — just take this 
 basket, and get me some tea-cups and saucers, and 
 spoons ; and don't let mother or any body see, I charge 
 you — there now, don't stand; and — stop, Sarah,' he 
 continued, running after her, ' tell Dinah when Hugh 
 comes back, she must give him the tea-kettle.' 
 
 The bustle of the boys in part defeated their purpose, 
 and in spite of their laborious efforts at concealment, a 
 general suspicion prevailed in the house, of the nature 
 of the intended entertainment. 
 
 Four o'clock came, and Richard presented himself 
 at the door, prepared to drive his grandmother to the 
 place of rendezvous ; while the rest of the party set off 
 on foot, followed by Warder, who, with perceptions of 
 the pleasure of liberty, quickened by his late confine- 
 ment, bounded along, riotous with joy. 
 
 On reaching the wood, Mrs Atkinson found that in- 
 stead of the usual obstacles of stones and brushwood, 
 by which she had apprehended her further progress 
 would be impeded, the boys had not only cleared away 
 every obstruction, but had turned the path so as to avoid 
 a little rocky ascent, over which the other route lay, and 
 had so effectually removed all difficulties, that she could 
 walk as well as on her own floor. 
 11 
 
98 the children's week. 
 
 * My dear boys,' said she, ' you have indeed taken a 
 great deal of trouble for me.' 
 
 ' No trouble at all grandmamma,' replied Jasper, 'tis 
 a shame we did not do it long ago.' 
 
 1 But then you know Jasper,' said Hugh, ' that Rich- 
 ard could not have had the pleasure of contriving it, — 
 and that I 'm sure would have been a pity.' 
 
 On reaching the centre of the wood another surprise 
 awaited Mrs Atkinson. Taking advantage of a number 
 of saplings, which had sprung up near to each other, the 
 boys, by bending their branches, had formed a little 
 rustic temple. Around the limbs, thus serving the purpose 
 of arches, they had twined cedar and other evergreens ; 
 wreaths of which, interspersed with flowers, were also 
 hung in festoons around the sides. The floor elevated 
 a little above the ground, was of boards covered with 
 carpeting; and benches contrived in the same manner, 
 were placed for all but Mrs Atkinson, for whom a more 
 ^mmodious seat was prepared. 
 Whatever expectations had been formed, this sur- 
 passed them all ; and the admiration of the party suf- 
 ficiently rewarded Richard's design, and the able co- 
 operation of Jasper and Hugh. 
 
 And now began the preparations for the refreshment, 
 a part of the entertainment to which the boys attached 
 quite as much importance ; and in which their awkward 
 though zealous efforts, were not a little amusing. If 
 
THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 99 
 
 ignorant and mal-adroit however, they showed as much 
 genius in repairing their mistakes, as others would have 
 manifested in avoiding them. When the tea-kettle was 
 overset for want of proper support, and it was fearfully 
 whispered that they would be obliged to go all the way 
 to the house for another supply of water, Jasper luckily 
 recollected a little spring as pure as the ' diamond of 
 the desert,' within halfthe distance — and when it was 
 discovered that Hugh, the forgetful fellow ! had omitted 
 to bring the fruit dishes, Richard consoled him by 
 twisting some twigs into a form that would answer the 
 purpose ; and lining them with the leaves of the Walnut 
 and aromatic Sassafras, contrived a substitute in char- 
 acter with the repast. In like manner other embarrass- 
 ments, served rather to increase than mar their pleasure; 
 and when they presented their guests with an excellent 
 dish of tea, good bread and butter, raspberries and 
 cream, and radishes, — the produce of Hugh's own 
 garden — it was agreed by all, that there was no d r 
 ficiency in kind, quantity, or style. 
 
 When the repast was over, and the young folks quietly 
 grouped around her, ' you are not aware my dea r 
 children,' said Mrs Atkinson, i of the full extent of the 
 enjoyment you have afforded me : in addition to all the 
 rest, your selection of this particular spot, has increased 
 my satisfaction. There are associations connected with 
 it, which will never cease to affect me, and as I wish to 
 
100 THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 
 
 requite your attention in some appropriate way, I am 
 half tempted to tell you a little story relating to it. 
 My only objection,' continued she, after a pause, ' is, 
 that it is all about myself — ' 
 
 1 O that is nothing, grandmamma,' said Richard, 
 ' you are the heroine of the day, you know, and every 
 thing should relate to you.' 
 
 ' After that, Richard,' said Mrs Atkinson, ' I should 
 wrong your sincerity, as much as your courtesy, were 
 I to hesitate, and therefore I shall begin. — I have no 
 desire on this occasion, to be sad or sentimental. As 
 boys have not a vast deal of sympathy with such things, 
 I shall make no unreasonable demands ; and therefore, 
 though in reverting to my childhood, and youth, such 
 feelings would be natural, I shall not indulge them, but 
 merely enlarge so far, as to enable you to comprehend 
 the incident I am about to relate. Our present resi- 
 dence I believe you all know, was my paternal mansion. 
 Here I was born, and here my pleasantest days have 
 been passed. If a more distinguished situation once 
 seemed designed for me, I have long since been satis- 
 fied, that it would not have been favorable to my virtue, 
 and of consequence not to my happiness — rightly un- 
 derstood. My mother was the only child of a man of 
 fortune, who in the final disposal of his estate, was in- 
 fluenced by an ill-founded prejudice he had conceived 
 against my father. By the conditions of his will, my 
 
101 
 
 mother had only a life estate in his property. On her 
 death it was to descend with the name of her father, to 
 her eldest son, except a certain small amount to her 
 other children. In failure of any but female offspring, 
 her eldest daughter was to inherit the bulk of his large 
 estate, attended by a condition, that on her fnarriage, 
 her husband should take her grandfather's name. For 
 several years 1 was the only child of my parents, and a 
 brilliant destiny appeared to await me — nor was I in- 
 sensible to it. Though my parents were too wise and 
 virtuous to encourage the feelings natural to a girl of my 
 age and situation, there were always others ready enough 
 to do so ; and from servants, inconsiderate acquain- 
 tances, and my young companions, I received many 
 impressions which no counsel could entirely correct. It 
 was not the expectation of wealth, as such, that affected 
 my mind — avarice is not the vice of the young. It was 
 power, distinction, indulgence, — that dazzled my imag- 
 ination. Happily, however, there were circumstances 
 in my condition, which tended to moderate, if they could 
 not overcome these feelings. My father was a scholar, 
 a man of sense, — and what was far better, a christian ; 
 and foreseeing the dangers and temptations of my situa- 
 tion, had early devoted himself to my education, with a 
 view to prepare me either to bear a disappointment, or 
 to use my fortune worthily.' 
 11* 
 
102 
 
 ' The first fifteen years of my life were nearly spent, 
 when I was placed for some months at a boarding 
 school, at a distance from home ; and shortly after, my 
 father was called by business of importance to Halifax. 
 There he was detained contrary to his expectations, 
 until my term of school expired ; and I was on the 
 point of returning home, when I received intelligence of 
 the birth of a brother ! — I will not disguise to you how 
 great was the shock which this intelligence gave me. 
 No advice or representation, had been sufficient to 
 counteract the illusions with which the flattery of others, 
 and the desires of my own heart, had surrounded me — 
 nor was the rebuke of my conscience the least of my 
 distresses. I felt that I was foolish, selfish, and un- 
 grateful ; and this consciousness completed my misery. 
 I returned home before the conflict was over ; but the 
 sight of the little being, who had been thus interposed 
 between me and my brightest visions, effected what my 
 own reasonings had failed to do — it touched the spring 
 of my natural affections, — it softened, it subdued me ; 
 and though my former feelings would indeed too often 
 recur, I had but to look in its sweet face to be at 
 peace.' 
 
 ' The return of my father was daily looked for. We 
 received letters announcing his arrival at Boston, and 
 his intention to proceed thence by land, directing his 
 carriage to meet him on a certain day, at a house about 
 
THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 103 
 
 five miles from here. The meeting with my father was 
 now all that I dreaded. My mother engrossed with 
 her new interests, of a temper tranquil and lovely, and 
 not suspecting emotions, of which she was not herself 
 capable, had not penetrated my feelings — but I knew 
 that my father could read the depths of my soul ; and 
 I trembled lest he should detect there, a thought that 
 had escaped my own scrutiny. I could not endure the 
 idea of appearing weak or unworthy in his eyes, and I 
 faithfully strove to be all that he would wish. The day 
 appointed arrived. We knew that the domestic intelli- 
 gence, so interesting, had not reached him ; and as I 
 was well assured that no consideration would make him 
 unmindful of my concern in this event, to spare him a 
 pang for me, I resolved to be the first to communicate 
 it. The carriage came to the door, and I prepared to 
 meet him. He arrived at the place appointed sooner 
 than we expected, and not finding the conveyance, 
 impatient of delay, he set off on foot by a nearer route. 
 As I approached the skirts of this wood, around which 
 the road made a circuit, I thought I perceived him at 
 a distance through the trees. I directed the coachman 
 to stop, and springing from the carriage, was in a few 
 moments in his arms, not far from the very spot we now 
 occupy. — As soon as I could speak, I exclaimed, 
 " Papa, you have a son ! — give me another blessing for 
 such good tidings !" I 
 
104 THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 
 
 He looked at me an instant, and I fearlessly encoun- 
 tered his eye, for I felt that 1 could have exposed my 
 heart to him. 
 
 ' " I thank Heaven !" he said, tenderly, " for all its 
 mercies, — and most especially for my noble, generous 
 daughter !" ' 
 
 ' Oh !' continued Mrs Atkinson, with energy, ' no 
 length of time can ever obliterate the impression of 
 those few words ! — They seemed to give vigor to every 
 virtuous purpose, and to place every selfish feeling in 
 its true deformity. From this time my character 
 received a new direction. My little brother became 
 my occupation and delight ; and with a sentiment 
 scarcely less than maternal, I watched over his pro- 
 gress. In time I was his instructer, and have ever been 
 his confidant and friend ; — and the wealth of the Indies 
 would not have compensated me for his loss. On the 
 death of my father, this property, which he held in his 
 own right, became mine. My brother generously 
 wished to enlarge my portion, but I refused ; — I had 
 enough for every rational purpose. One expression of 
 his affection, however, I could not resist ; it was the gift 
 of this wood, which he purchased and annexed to my 
 farm. — As the little song says, "now my story's done" 
 — and if while acknowledging my faults, I have at the 
 same time impressed on you an example of self-control, 
 or proved that the purest happiness springs from the 
 
105 
 
 exercise of the affections, — our little fete may have a 
 good effect, more enduring than we at first supposed. 
 
 Mrs Atkinson ceased, and her audience expressed 
 their thanks with much animation, — Helen especially, 
 — who, perhaps, our young readers may have perceived, 
 to be slightly infected with the faults, apt to beset pretty 
 girls of fourteen ; but whose heart was always open 
 to good impressions. The time for their return home 
 had now arrived, and the afternoon's entertainment 
 concluded with an agreeable consciousness of mutual 
 obligation. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 Dear madam, think me not to blame, 
 
 Invisible the fairy came. 
 
 Gay. 
 
 4 Ah, good morning, my daughter,' said Mr Philips, as, 
 casting his eye around the breakfast table, he perceived 
 Matty — * I did not see you before ; — so you are to 
 wear the cordon of honor to-day — and what are we to 
 expect from such a little lady, I pray ?' 
 
 * You shall see, father,' replied she, with a look that 
 betokened something important, ' you shall see, but not 
 till eight o'clock this evening.' 
 
 'This is Saturday — is it not?' said Mr Philips — 'well 
 Matty, your week of license is almost over. I hope 
 you will patiently bear the rein, when mother puts it on 
 again.' 
 
 1 Yes, indeed, father, that I will,' replied she, * or I 
 should not deserve ever to be indulged again ; besides, 
 it would be very ungenerous to mother, after she has 
 been so good.' ) 
 
107 
 
 6 That 's a just sentiment, Matty,' said Mr Philips, 
 1 and I really believe more operative with you, my dear 
 little daughter, than any calculations for future pleasure. 
 But you have not yet told us what is required of us at 
 eight o'clock — ' 
 
 6 I wish you, and mother,' replied she, ' to meet us 
 in the drawing room.' 
 
 c You have forgotten grandmamma — ' 
 
 1 Grandmamma !' exclaimed Matty, surprised — ' why 
 father ! she is one of us — ' 
 
 ' So I am, dear,' said Mrs Atkinson, in a pleased, 
 affectionate tone — ' so I am ; and as long as you will 
 let me be so, I shall not care for any other distinction.' 
 
 ' Then,' said Matty, ' I want something more.' 
 
 ' I dare say,' said her mother, — ' well, out with it.' 
 
 ' I wish,' continued Matty, ' to send to the village to 
 ask Mr Robertson — you know he is my particular 
 friend.' 
 
 ' I have no objection,' replied Mrs Philips — ' Mr 
 Robertson is good natured enough to excuse, if he cannot 
 enjoy your sport, whatever it may be — any one else ?' 
 
 ' Only Frederick Hammond,' said Matilda ; ' and 
 then as aunt and uncle Lee are to come to-day, and as 
 uncle Atkinson said he should probably come up from 
 town to see William Howell, and should stay the night 
 with us, we' shall have quite an agreeable party.' 
 
108 THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 
 
 * Yes,' said her mother, ' and judiciously arranged ; 
 all sufficiently interested to accept kindly your efforts 
 for their entertainment.' 
 
 What these were to be, remained of course a pro- 
 found mystery. It was only observed that grandmoth- 
 er's door was closed against all but Matty, — an exclu- 
 sion too remarkable not to excite attention, and which 
 would, on any other occasion, have been quite intoler- 
 able. Once or twice, too, a murmur was heard from 
 within, as if Matty were conning her lessons. But 
 although she' was never known to neglect these in their 
 proper season, she was not supposed to have a taste for 
 a work so supererogatory, as devotion to study at such a 
 time, — and the fact remained unaccounted for. 
 
 Favorable answers from their friends in the village, 
 and the arrival of Mr and Mrs Lee, and Dr Atkinson, 
 confirmed Matty's hopes of a ' successful evening.' 
 
 ' At eight o'clock all were assembled in the place 
 appointed, with the exception of Matty herself. — Some 
 time elapsed, — still she did not appear. The younger 
 part of the company began to speculate on this delay, 
 and Mrs Atkinson too, cast an anxious look to a side 
 door, as if expecting some one to enter from that quar- 
 ter. At length it was cautiously opened, and Matty, 
 with a smiling face, but a timid, irresolute air, entered. 
 The collar, as usual, was suspended from her neck, but 
 the staff seemed to have undergone a fantastic trans- 
 
109 
 
 formation. Entwined with flowers, it bore on the upper 
 end a little bag, apparently of silver net-work, which 
 glittered as the wand fell from side to side in Matty's 
 uncertain grasp. Reassured at length by the kind 
 glances bent on her, and still more, perhaps, by a 
 whisper from her grandmother, she raised it with more 
 confidence, and advancing into the centre of the room, 
 addressed the company in the following lines. 
 
 Lo here I am — a little thing! 
 And yet no common charge I bring. 
 List, gentle friends, while I declare 
 A fact you. '11 deem beyond compare. 
 You know that well I love to play, 
 When glows the fervent summer day, 
 Beneath the shade of spreading tree, 
 Or wheresoe'er the breezes be. 
 Now yester morn, my lessons done, 
 My custom'd rambles I 'd begun ; 
 When on a sudden, forth there flew 
 A butterfly of brilliant hue. 
 Eager to view it nearer still, 
 To catch it now I tried my skill. 
 But all in vain — it came, it went ; 
 Now here, now there ; till almost spent 
 I should have yielded, had it not 
 Within §ie garden snugly got ; 
 And on a bed of violets basking, 
 12 
 
110 THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 
 
 Seem'd to be further chase still asking. 
 
 With bonnet spread and heart elate, 
 
 I slyly crept where thus it sate ; 
 
 Then darting, deern'd 1 'd caught the prize; 
 
 When to my dazzled, wond'ring eyes, 
 
 Straightway it chang'd a tiny sprite, 
 
 The which, if I could guess aright, 
 
 Should be the fairy queen herself. 
 
 Nor marvel that I knew the elf; 
 
 For grandma' often had before 
 
 Described her to me o'er and o'er. 
 
 I cannot as I would, declare,. 
 
 Her garb, so delicate and rare, 
 
 Because it puzzled all my thought^ 
 
 That those same wings, which late I sought.. 
 
 Were now transformed, and o'er her head 
 
 A little parasol outspread ! 
 
 To shade her, when in sunny hour 
 
 She dar'd to leave her fairy bower. 
 
 And as I wondered, on my ear 
 
 Fell accents wild, but sweet and clear.. 
 
 ' Approach not,' seem'd the voice to say„ 
 
 c But listen to the fairy's lay. 
 
 And think it not some idle sport 
 
 That wins me from my elfin court ; 
 
 Or makes me thus adventurous roam. 
 
 Where mortal eyes may prying come.. 
 
 I seek an embassy to send ; 
 
THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 1 1 ! 
 
 You, though a child, can comprehend 
 
 Its import. — Once, such aid had I 
 
 In by-gone days, scarce deign'd to try. 
 
 But since the world has grown so wise, 
 
 JVe are just nothing, in its eyes. 
 
 Imagination — our domain, 
 
 Is under Reason's sober reign ; 
 
 And e'en the very children now, 
 
 Are so well skill'd in " loliy 7" and a howV 
 
 That every spell is turn'd aside, 
 
 Because those tests must be applied. 
 
 In times of old, e'en kings implor'd 
 
 Our favors on their offspring pour'd. 
 
 But parents now are so uplifted, 
 
 They think that every child is gifted ! 
 
 And all the world is so conceited, 
 
 That we with cold neglect are treated. 
 
 Still, though contemn'd, and useless grown, 
 
 We would be meddling I must own. 
 
 ♦Some favorites yet I fain would bless., 
 
 With such poor gifts as I possess ; 
 
 But these are little worth you know, 
 
 Since fairy-stock is down so low. 
 
 <jo then, and ask of mortal mould, 
 
 To send me of their earthly gold. 
 
 That potent good, which more they prize, 
 
 Than all my failing realm supplies. 
 
 And if obiain'd, you then shall know 
 
112 THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 
 
 On whom the same I would bestow.' 
 
 She ceas'd, and srail'd, then quickly rung 
 
 The lily at her belt that hung, 
 
 (The same, whose tiny bells doth call 
 
 Attendance in her moon-lit hall ;) 
 
 But doubtful of its feeble sound, 
 
 She cast a hurried glance around ; 
 
 Then rais'd her woodbine horn, and blew 
 
 A bugle blast so shrill and true, 
 
 That forth from every flower and blade, 
 
 Her fairy train their entrance made ; 
 
 When melting all to summer air, 
 
 They left me mute and gazing there. 
 
 I turn'd, my mind with thoughts replete, 
 
 And found this wand just at my feet. 
 
 These my credentials — grant the boon, 
 
 And you shall know her purpose soon. 
 
 t Bravo !' cried Mr Robertson, as she concluded, 
 ' bravo, Matty !' accompanying the exclamation with an 
 approving clap ; — an action that gave an impulse to all 
 the hands in the room, which now rung with plaudits. 
 These were not, indeed, due to any extraordinary grace 
 of recitation ; — that was hardly to be expected ; but 
 were given to the diligence with which she had pre- 
 pared herself, and the evident effort she had made so 
 far to control her timidity, as not to disappoint her 
 friends by a failure. 
 
THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 113 
 
 As soon as the acclamations ceased, ' Here, Matty,' 
 said Mr Robertson, — who was always happy to pro- 
 mote the pleasures of the young, thus disproving the 
 charges sometimes brought indiscriminately against old 
 bachelors, — * I for one will gladly contribute to make 
 up a purse for the Fairy. I have not forgotten my 
 early obligations to the race. — There is something 
 towards paying off my debt.' 
 
 Inspired with new courage at this success, Matty now 
 extended her wand to each in turn, and the weight of 
 the purse bore testimony to the liberality of the con- 
 tributors. While it was thus making its round, Hugh 
 was seen to slip out of the room. We hope he will not 
 be suspected for a moment, of a design to avoid his 
 proportion of the fairy tax. No indeed ! — it was to 
 provide himself for that very purpose, with a certain 
 bright half-dollar, which with singular prudence he had 
 not permitted himself to keep about his person. This 
 was an occasion which he thought warranted such an 
 expenditure, and he dropped it into the purse with 
 entire complacency, receiving at the same moment a 
 smile of approval from Matty, which would have satis- 
 fied any scruples, if such he had felt. 
 
 6 I hope,' said Mr Philips, ' that the Fairy has so far 
 entered into the spirit of the age, as to make a rational 
 use of the funds she is accumulating.' 
 12* 
 
114 THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 
 
 * I cannot say about the use being so very rattonalV 
 father,' replied Matty — 'but I am sure that the 
 Fairy will give it all back again if her plan is not ap- 
 proved.' 
 
 I Nothing certainly can be more fair than that,' said 
 Mr Lee. ' It would be well if we could in other cases, 
 have the same assurance.' 
 
 Matty now approached Jasper. 
 
 I I must confess Matty,' said he, ' I have no great 
 opinion of this fairy of yours — it is against my princi- 
 ples to give to vagrants — besides her story don't hold 
 well together ; I do not see how she comes to be so 
 very poor, for I always understood that fairy gold had 
 no end — ; T is a suspicious business,' he added, shaking 
 his head, with the air of a substantial citizen rejecting 
 a petition. 
 
 ' Perhaps she has " failed for her expenses," ' said 
 Richard. 
 
 ' That can't be,' said Frederick, ' for by all accounts 
 fairy housekeeping is not very expensive — dew-drops 
 in acorn-cups — ' 
 
 ? With mushroom-tops for tables,' said Jasper — ' and 
 all the world knows that the glow-worms and fire-flies 
 light them for nothing — ' 
 
 ' Very well boys, very well,' said Matty, ' for all 
 your fine talk, you '11 be sorry enough by and by if you 
 do not give the fairy something.' 
 
THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 115 
 
 '01 suppose there 's no escape,' said Jasper, ' but 
 really I don't know how I am to do it, unless I go beg- 
 ging myself — Helen can you lend me/ 
 
 I cannot indeed, for 1 have no more than I intend to 
 give.' 
 
 ' Well, Sarah, then,' continued Jasper — ' she is a 
 perfect Miss Primrose — she has always money in her 
 pocket — ' 
 
 1 Not because you don't try to get it out,' said Mrs 
 Philips. 
 
 ' There, I can spare you that much,' said Sarah. 
 
 * Which, as we have a running account you know,' 
 replied Jasper, ' you may transfer to that.' 
 
 ' I don't know about that Jasper,' answered Sarah, 
 ' your running accounts run away with all my money ; 
 and the last has run so far, that I shall never overtake 
 it — I may as well forgive you that, — but this you 
 shall pay me.' 
 
 ' You are a good girl, that 's a fact,' replied Jasper, 
 * and I will pay you this, or may all the fairies in fairy 
 land pinch me as " blue as bilberries." There Matty, 
 child, take that with proper gratitude — ■ you little know 
 what it costs your brother. But here Matty, listen a mo- 
 ment — you must not be too sharp with Richard and Fred- 
 erick — boys are not apt to have any superfluous cash.' 
 
 e I am obliged to you Jasper,' said Richard, ' but 
 luckily here is enough to save my character.' 
 
116 THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 
 
 5 1 was afraid at first,' said Frederick, ' that I should 
 be compelled to pawn my pencil-case for the Fairy ; 
 but I am not quite so low as that — There, Matty.' 
 
 Having, to use the common, but inelegant phrase, 
 ■ taken up a collection,' Matty withdrew. 
 
 ( 1 can guess,' said Mr Robertson, ' with a glance at 
 Mrs Atkinson, to whom we are indebted for this intro- 
 duction of the fairies ; and glad I am to see they are 
 not quite forgotten. It seems to me, that the children 
 now-a-days have hardly fair play ; — they surely may 
 be reasonable and well educated, without clipping so 
 very close the wings of Imagination, as some persons 
 are disposed to do — but,' added he, shrugging up 
 his shoulders, 'lama bachelor, and of course no judge.' 
 
 4 Perhaps,' said Mr Philips,' you are therefore the 
 better judge. We parents, are apt from a sense of re- 
 sponsibility to be over anxious, and to urge our children 
 to a maturity, which time and experience only can give. 
 Besides, in education as in every thing, there is a ten- 
 dency to extremes ; and in guarding against the defects 
 of our own, we are liable to run into an opposite excess. 
 Imagination like every other faculty, is to be cultivated ; 
 not destroyed. But what says Mrs Atkinson ? I have 
 more confidence in her opinion, than my own.' 
 
 1 O you may be sure of my voice,' replied Mrs At- 
 kinson in favor of Imagination — I lived you know in 
 the days when young folks read Shakspeare and 
 Milton — ' > 
 
THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 117 
 
 * Surely mamma,' said Mrs Lee, l you would not put 
 those books into the hands of children.' 
 
 ' No, I would not permit an indiscriminate perusal of 
 such books, nor give them to mere children, for they 
 could not be understood. But at the age of thirteen 
 and fourteen, they might read much of them with plea- 
 sure and advantage. I may venture to say this, for I 
 have at this moment some lines of Cowper's in my 
 mind, that justify it. Alluding to his reading Milton, 
 when a boy, he says, 
 
 ' his Paradise surpass'd 
 
 The struggling efforts of my boyish tongue 
 
 To speak its excellence ; I danced for joy. 
 
 I marvell'd much that at so ripe an age 
 
 As twice seven years, his beauties then had first 
 
 Engaged my wonder.' 
 
 Nor is this all — they would in after years return 
 with greater thirst to these pure fountains of poesy, about 
 which would linger the bright associations of their youth.' 
 
 • But do you mean to say,' inquired Mrs Lee, ' that 
 those books were more frequently read at that age for- 
 merly than now ?' 
 
 *■ Yes — I do — that is by girls, for it is of them only 
 I presume to speak. And not only those books, but 
 others, requiring as much effort, and about which there 
 would perhaps be less question. It is true, the educa- 
 tion of my time was sadly defective 3 and very limited 
 
118 
 
 in its diffusion ; yet I cannot admit that it deserves all 
 the reproach it receives. If imperfect and irregular, it 
 left something to the spirit and exercise of our own 
 minds. With those who had access to books, (they 
 were few I grant,) the love of reading was a passion, 
 not to be discouraged by hard names, or goodly-sized 
 volumes. If we had fewer books, we read them more 
 faithfully, and valued them more highly. With what 
 delight even at eleven years of age, I read the Iliad to 
 my mother ! and I well remember a young friend of 
 mine, not much older, poring over the dry details of 
 Josephus, with as much interest as if it had been a 
 W T averly novel.' 
 
 6 But grandmamma,' said Helen, ' uncle Philips ob- 
 jected the other day to girls reading a great deal — did 
 you not uncle?' 
 
 * I think not Helen,' replied he, ' at least not in the 
 sense in which you seem to have understood me. If I 
 remember, my objection was only to such an exclusive 
 attention to books, as led to a neglect of household arts ; 
 of these, no female, in our country at least, should be 
 willing to be ignorant.' 
 
 i I must ask you one more question mamma,' said 
 Mrs Lee, f you surely allow that there is a vast improve- 
 ment in the present system of education ? 
 
 'Certainly, replied Mrs Atkinson, — I should be a 
 prejudiced old woman indeed to deny that — while my 
 
THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 119 
 
 analysis of nature extended no further than the doctrine 
 of the four elements, my grandchildren at the same age 
 have studied natural philosophy, — have stored their 
 minds with useful facts in chemistry, — and for aught 
 that I know,' continued she, laughing, l have found out 
 that there are no elements at all — and this is a sample 
 of the rest. Popular errors are exploded, science is 
 made intelligible and attractive, every study illustrated 
 and simplified, the most gifted minds condescend to the 
 labor of instruction, — and these benefits are extended 
 to all. With a judicious use of such means, it is ob- 
 vious, that an education may now be obtained far su- 
 perior to any that was known formerly. But from these 
 very advantages come some evils. A diversity of 
 studies results too often in superficial attainment; and 
 the ease with which new books are obtained, leads to a 
 negfect of some old ones, best calculated to improve the 
 mind, and enrich the imagination. But it is time to cut 
 short this sober discussion, for I see Matty peeping in 
 at the door to remind me of my duty. She has been 
 so good as to allow me a partnership in her evening, 
 which I have taken advantage of, to order a little sup- 
 per ; that our friend Mr Robertson might be sure of 
 something rather more satisfactory, than poetry and 
 fairies. — Come, one and all,' added she, rising, • for 
 on this occasion I suppose the youngest may partake, 
 
120 
 
 as the repast is almost light enough for the fairies 
 themselves.' 
 
 ' My dear Madam,' said Mr Robertson, offering his 
 arm, ? I do admire your consideration — A supper is • — 
 is — in short it is like every thing you do — most ac- 
 ceptable.' When seated at the table, they were all for 
 a time too well occupied, to observe the significant 
 smiles and looks of Matty, directed towards a covered 
 dish in the centre. At length, however, Mr Robert- 
 son's attention was attracted to it. 
 
 ' If you please, Mrs Atkinson,' said he, ' I will inspect 
 this dish — ' 
 
 c Do so,' replied she. ' It is a sort of a pic-nic, — 
 composed of ingredients furnished by each of us.' 
 
 Mr Robertson, having drawn it towards him, removed 
 the cover ; and disclosed the little fairy-purse, bearing 
 a label, on which was written, ' A bridal gift for Fanny 
 Dale.' 
 
 There was a general expression of surprise and 
 pleasure. A few words explained to Mr and Mrs Lee 
 the interest attached to the individual, upon which they 
 declared it impossible, that any one should desire to 
 avail themselves of the permission to withdraw their 
 contribution. 
 
 * How much have we got, Matty ?' said Mr Robert- 
 son, s let us see — ' 
 
121 
 
 s Almost eight dollars !' she exclaimed, with anima- 
 tion, ' and that will get her six silver tea-spoons !' 
 
 I Now, Matty,' said Mr Robertson, ' I '11 tell you 
 what I '11 do. As it is probably maliciously supposed, 
 from my remaining a bachelor, that I have not a proper 
 respect for matrimony, it will be prudent to take this 
 opportunity of putting such slanders to silence. And 
 so, Matty, I '11 just add enough to buy the sugar-tongs 
 — for though they may not want it in the honey-moon, 
 I suspect they will afterwards.' 
 
 Words cannot express Matty's satisfaction at this 
 concurrence in her design to honor her friend Fanny. 
 
 ' And when is the gift to be presented ?' asked Mr 
 Philips. 
 
 I I would wait till the wedding,' said Matty, ' but as 
 cousin Helen will only stay till Monday morning, and 
 she would, I dare say, like to go with us, I meant to 
 ask mother to let me go with it to-morrow.' 
 
 1 1 thought so,' said Mrs Philips, ' money I find burns 
 in the fairy's purse, as well as in your own pocket, 
 Matty.' 
 
 ' Fanny will be so pleased, mother,' said Matty — ' I 
 wish William could see it too, but he will see better 
 things than this soon — ' 
 
 ' How interesting it will be,' exclaimed Helen, { when 
 he sees his parents again ! and Fanny too ! how I 
 should like to be present ! — ' 
 13 
 
122 the children's week. 
 
 ' Only think, though, 5 said Sarah, ' if the operation 
 should not succeed after all ! — it would be dreadful to 
 witness his disappointment.' 
 
 ' But uncle,' said Matty earnestly, ' there is no dan- 
 ger of that now — is there ? — why don't you speak, 
 uncle ? — O you smile — then I know there is n't — •' 
 
 1 Have you not heard, Matty,' said Dr Atkinson, 
 ' that prudent physicians never commit themselves by 
 a hasty opinion ? — I promise you, however, that you 
 shall know William's fate, good or bad, before Helen 
 leaves you — ' 
 
 6 Shall we !' exclaimed the girls. 
 
 { Yes,' continued he, ' and furthermore, I invite all 
 you young folks who have been so much interested in 
 my patient, to go with me to-morrow, to see him — now 
 Matty, I 've told you as much as I have any one.' 
 
 This permission was received with much satisfaction ; 
 while whispers and significant looks made known the 
 favorable auguries deduced from it. 
 
 Thus closed the week ; leaving to our young friends 
 the pleasant reflection, that they had each, in some 
 degree, contributed to the happiness and good humor, 
 by which it had been distinguished. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 The secret sympathy, 
 
 The silver link, the silken tie ; 
 
 Which heart to heart., and mind to mind. 
 
 In body and in soul can bind. 
 
 Scott. 
 
 Sunday morning rose most auspiciously. — i Grand- 
 mamma,' said Matilda, as she was putting on her hat, in 
 preparation for church, ' when are we to go to Mr 
 Howell's ? — I do long to carry Fanny her present.' 
 
 1 The time appointed is after the afternoon service,' 
 replied Mrs Atkinson,' — and now, Matty, dear, don't 
 talk any more about it till that time comes, — and what 
 is more, don't think about it.' 
 
 6 Why surely, grandmamma, it is no harm to think of 
 what will give pleasure to others as well as myself — 
 besides, I can't help thinking of it. Can you, girls ?' 
 
 Helen and Sarah smiled, but they did not pretend to 
 any superior self-control. 
 
 6 But you must remember, Matty,' said Mrs Atkin- 
 son, ' that time and place may render that improper, 
 
124 the children's week. 
 
 which is in itself innocent. — Listen to me a few mo- 
 ments, and perhaps I can provide you with some other 
 subjects for your thoughts, and thus show you that you 
 can help thinking of this. — Have we not had a pleasant 
 week ?' 
 
 ' Yes, grandmamma, that we have !' exclaimed Ma- 
 tilda. 
 
 ' Last Saturday,' continued Mrs Atkinson, ' we traced 
 out to ourselves a little plan of domestic enjoyment ; 
 but how many things might have occurred to disturb it. 
 Sickness at home, bad news from abroad, — death itself, 
 might have turned our joy to mourning. And does it 
 not call for thankfulness, that we have been preserved 
 from suffering, and have also enjoyed some of the best 
 pleasures of which our natures are susceptible, in the 
 expression and cultivation of kind feelings ?' 
 
 ■ Yes, grandmamma,' said Matty. Helen and Sarah 
 too, assented, for they understood by the direction of 
 Mrs Atkinson's eye, that they also were included in the 
 inquiry. 
 
 'Then gratitude to our great Preserver, should 
 occupy some of our thoughts to-day ; — should it not?' 
 
 ■ To be sure, grandmamma.' v 
 
 c But, my dear girls, though we have been happy, 
 and our occupations harmless, still our imperfections 
 have mingled with them — is not this a cause for 
 regret ? and does it not require acknowledgment ?* 
 
125 
 
 £ Yes, certainly, grandmamma,' said Matilda, her face 
 gradually assuming a thoughtful, and humble expres- 
 sion. 
 
 < Then too, dear,' said Mrs Atkinson, ' though not 
 forbidden to derive pleasure from the consideration ot 
 a kind action about to be performed, we may so think 
 of it, with such an exaltation of ourselves, that it may 
 become less commendable. Is it not, therefore, best 
 to endeavor to do all things, in such a manner as may 
 render them acceptable in His sight, who is not unob- 
 servant of our smallest actions ?' 
 
 * Yes, grandmother — I suppose it is — ' 
 
 ' Well, then — to apply this to the present case — 
 try so to occupy your minds to-clay, that your visit to 
 Mr Howell's may do you good, as well as gratify you. 
 Besides affording you an opportunity of giving pleasure, 
 what you will there see may suggest important and 
 interesting reflections; for though your uncle has not 
 chosen to speak with certainty of his success, such I 
 trust will be the fact. You will then behold the eyes 
 of a fellow creature opened. — What can be more 
 affecting ? It should fill you with gratitude as well as 
 joy ; — and should bring with it still other thoughts, by 
 leading you to reflect on that wonderful Being, who 
 when on earth, by a touch — a word — removed such 
 obstructions ; — and even more, — who gives light to 
 the mind, as well as to the body.' 
 13* 
 
126 the children's week. 
 
 Mrs Atkinson paused — and Matty sate for some 
 moments in a reflecting attitude. 
 
 * Now, my dear,' resumed her grandmother, * having 
 helped you to subjects for meditation, which may serve 
 to keep out thoughts less fitting, as the carriage is at the 
 door, I will trust to your own convictions to make use 
 of them, without further comment.' 
 
 Matty, who was an upright child, willing to perceive 
 and to do her duty, honestly endeavored to observe her 
 grandmamma's injunctions ; nor were Helen and Sarah 
 regardless of their participation in them. 
 
 The hour for the visit to Mr Howell's arrived. On 
 entering the house they found the family assembled in 
 expectation of Dr Atkinson ; and that as they had sus- 
 pected, there was now to be a termination of their 
 suspense. The young people were received as friends 
 on whose sympathy they could rely — 
 
 ' I am so glad you 've come !' said Mrs Howell. ■ If 
 it is God's will that William should get his sight, I 'm 
 sure there 's few faces he 'd be better pleased to see 
 than yours.' 
 
 Fanny pressed a hand of each of the girls, but did 
 not speak — while Helen remarked to Sarah how pretty 
 she looked in her Sunday dress, and straw bonnet, — 
 which last, in the interest that now occupied her, she 
 had forgotten to lay aside. 
 
THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 12? 
 
 A few moments were now spent in selecting a favor- 
 able position for William, and in such a management of 
 the light, that it might not be too suddenly or strongly 
 admitted to the organ. The manner of these little 
 preparations sufficiently indicated the feelings of those 
 most interested ; for while every instant appeared an 
 age, each, notwithstanding, seemed willing to defer a 
 moment, which was to confirm or extinguish their 
 hopes. William was apparently the most calm ; but 
 his expressive mouth, nevertheless, betrayed the con- 
 trariety of his emotions ; — showing by turns an assu- 
 rance of success, or the effort by which he prepared 
 himself for disappointment. 
 
 Mrs Howell placed herself near her son on one side, 
 while his father, on the other, with an anxious and 
 incredulous look, watched the movements of Dr Atkin- 
 son. Every eye was fixed, — every tongue mute. The 
 surgeon slowly and carefully proceeded. The outer 
 bandage was removed, and the thin compress alone 
 remained. This was cautiously displaced — the eyes 
 opened — and William, turning to his father, extended 
 his hand in token of recognition — 
 
 ' Thank God ! thank God !' exclaimed the old man 
 — his hardy face yielding to his strong and natural 
 emotion. 
 
 From his father, William turned to his mother. She 
 bent forward to embrace him, and he rested his head 
 
J28 
 
 on her shoulder ; while the look with which he regard- 
 ed her, seemed to say, that though years had left their 
 traces, she was still the original of the picture in his 
 heart. — But soon he turned in search of another 
 object, — and the first word he uttered was ' Fanny.'' 
 
 She had modestly retired to a remote part of the 
 room, as if unwilling to assert her own claims at this 
 moment. On hearing her name pronounced by Wil- 
 liam she would have advanced, but a signal from Dr 
 Atkinson prevented her. 
 
 ' William/ said he, ' you have behaved so well 
 throughout, that I am sure you will permit me to make 
 an experiment, to which I am much tempted. Now do 
 me the favor to select Fanny from those three girls. 
 I'll give you two chances, and if you don't hit right, 
 I '11 forbid the banns.' 
 
 The doctor's request had the effect he intended, of 
 relieving a scene which was becoming more interesting 
 than he wished. 
 
 The girls were at some distance from each other. 
 Their height was nearly the same ; — Helen was rather 
 the tallest, — a circumstance, which together with the 
 delicate features, and youthful countenance of Fanny, 
 might, notwithstanding the difference of their ages, have 
 deceived a more accurate sight. 
 
 William's eye wandered from Sarah to Helen, — from 
 Helen to Fanny ; — now resting on one, — now on the 
 
129 
 
 other ; and finally reverting to Helen, he paused. It 
 was not long however, for, turning away with a per- 
 plexed and dissatisfied look, and closing his eyes, as if 
 despairing of their assistance, he rose, and walking for- 
 ward, placed his hand on one of them, saying at the 
 same time, and with an undoubting tone, ' I knoiv this 
 is Fanny ! ' — He opened his eyes, and his hand did 
 indeed rest on her shoulder ; his countenance expres- 
 sing at once his fondness, and his satisfaction ; and the 
 quick pulsations of their hearts were communicated to 
 all present. 
 
 Composure being restored, and Doctor Atkinson per- 
 ceiving that Matty did not well know how to introduce 
 her own special business, prepared the way by saying, 
 1 Fanny do you believe in Fairies ?' 
 
 4 No, sir,' said Fanny, with all seriousness, — sur- 
 prised at the abrupt inquiry. 
 
 'You will be obliged then, I think,' continued he, ' to 
 enlarge your creed, for Matilda has a favor for you even 
 from their very queen.' 
 
 Matty now came forward, and placed in Fanny's lap 
 the fairy-purse. — A conscious look told that the label 
 had caught her eye, at the same time that in a low tone 
 she expressed her acknowledgments. 
 
 ' O you need not thank me,' said Matty — and she 
 was going on to give particulars, but her uncle inter- 
 
130 THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 
 
 rupted her with a hint that it was time to take their 
 leave. 
 
 1 Only let me tell Fanny, uncle, — just so that she 
 can understand — ' 
 
 This could not be denied, — and having made the 
 
 matter intelligible, and received her full return in the 
 
 grateful looks of William and Fanny, she consented to go. 
 
 On their return, the scene they had just witnessed, 
 
 naturally became die subject of conversation. 
 
 ' Uncle,' said Helen, l was it not wonderful that Wil- 
 liam should not be able to discover Fanny with his eyes, 
 and yet do so without them ?' 
 
 c Not so wonderful my dear, as if he had discovered 
 her by their assistance.' 
 
 1 Why, uncle !' exclaimed she, ' how can that be !' 
 1 You have not reflected, Helen,' said he, ' or you 
 would not be thus surprised. How should he know 
 her by sight when he had never seen her ? He had un- 
 doubtedly formed an image of her in his mind, and had 
 to a certain extent, by measurement and description, 
 made some approach to the truth. But though de- 
 scription and touch might have conveyed some impres- 
 sion of her stature, the height of her forehead, the curve 
 of her brow, the length and figure of her nose, the size 
 of her mouth, — what but sight itself could give him the 
 expression resulting from their combination ? — There 
 
134 
 
 has been much discussion, as to the fact, of the power 
 of those blind from infancy, to recognise by the eye 
 when restored to sight, the forms of things known to 
 them before by the touch — for instance, whether they 
 would know a round body from a square one. There 
 have been a very few remarkable cases, in which this 
 has appeared to be the fact ; but for the rest, such per- 
 sons are incapable at first of this discrimination. They 
 are sometimes even unable to direct their eyes properly, 
 have no idea of distance, — supposing bodies to be in 
 contact with their eyes ; and on the most simple and 
 familiar objects being presented to them, — a cup and 
 saucer for instance, — cannot without submitting it to 
 their touch, tell what it is.' 
 
 ' But William has not been blind from infancy,' 
 said Helen. 
 
 ' No, — and therefore these cases, and his, are not 
 parallel — but you must recollect, that what you ex- 
 pected of him, involved yet greater difficulties, than the 
 apprehension of mere forms.' 
 
 ' I was not surprised at any thing,' said Richard, f but 
 at the certainty with which William directed his course 
 to Fanny — there was no touch in that — and why too, 
 if he could do so with his eyes shut, could he not do it 
 with them open ?' 
 
 1 1 suppose,' said his uncle, ' you would choose to 
 consider it a beautiful instance of a lover's instinct — ' 
 
132 
 
 ' Yes, I think I should,' replied Richard, ' but I am 
 afraid that you will give it what uncle Philips calls, a 
 " common sense explanation." ' 
 
 ' I shall certainly try to do so,' said Doctor Atkinson. 
 ' Let me see — In the first place you must consider the 
 confusion produced by the sight of external objects, 
 after long disuse of the organ ; and that while thus 
 perplexed, other avenues of perception, would be com- 
 paratively closed. But as soon as he shuts his eyes, 
 his mind returns to its usual modes of operation. His 
 ear recovers its acuteness, and detects sounds so slight 
 as to escape us altogether. A single movement of her 
 foot, the rustling of her garments, her very breathing, 
 have to him a peculiar character, and may serve to 
 indicate the spot she occupies. Besides, Fanny may 
 have had a flower in her bosom — that, Richard, would 
 solve the whole ; and by the by, furnish as sen- 
 timental an explanation as your own, — a lover attracted 
 by odors to his mistress. It may have been a rose, — 
 the " maiden-blush," for instance, which you know sig- 
 nifies in the mystical language of flowers, " If you love 
 me, you will find me out — " ' 
 
 i Ah, uncle,' cried Richard, ' that is coming round 
 to my solution after all, — the lover's instinct.' To 
 this, however, his uncle demurred ; and it was finally 
 agreed that each should retain the opinion most agreea- 
 ble to himself. 
 
133 
 
 In the evening, one after another, the younger part 
 of the circle gathered round Mrs Atkinson. 
 
 6 Grandmamma,' said Helen, ' we have had a delight- 
 ful visit — the last week especially, has absolutely flown, 
 and for that you know we are indebted to you.' 
 
 ' And mother, and father too,' said Matty, who was 
 always for a fair distribution of thanks. ' If they had 
 not given consent, we could not have had half so much 
 pleasure, I 'm sure.' 
 
 6 That is well remembered, dear Matty,' said her 
 grandmother,' and for that I owe them as much as you 
 do* But now that the pleasure is over it is not I hope, 
 to be succeeded by listlessness and vain regrets. Those 
 are the fruits of immoderate and enervating indulgence ; 
 rational and innocent enjoyments perpetuate themselves 
 by pleasant remembrances. As they afford too, a 
 healthful stimulus, you will all I am sure, return to your 
 studies with increased diligence. I do not presume to 
 give such superfluous counsel to young gentlemen like 
 Richard and Jasper, in whose ears I dare say Latin 
 and Greek are at this moment ringing a " concord of 
 sweet sounds " — but to the rest, I may venture I sup- 
 pose a gentle hint at their duty.' 
 
 ' For my part, grandmamma,' said Helen, ' I feel 
 a greater desire for improvement than I ever felt before, 
 and for a reason which I dare say you would not guess.' 
 14 
 
134 
 
 ' And what is that, Helen ? ' said Mrs Atkinson. 
 
 ' 1 know,' said Helen, in a tone of some embarrass- 
 ment,' ' I know it is not polite to speak of a person's 
 age — but you are so good, grandmamma, that you will 
 excuse it. What I was going to say, is, that when I 
 see a person so agreeable at your age as you are, I 
 know it can only be because they were industrious in 
 their youth — I have sometimes had a desire to be ac- 
 complished as a young lady, but I think I shall now care 
 much more, to be so when an old one.' 
 
 ' You will be obliged to try pretty hard, I can tell you, 
 Helen,' said Hugh, whose blunt honesty was always 
 uppermost; 'to. be such an old lady as grandmamma, 
 for you must be good too, and that is a deal harder, 
 than to be agreeable'.' 
 
 ' Yes, Hugh,' replied Helen, I that is very true, and I 
 have had many thoughts about that too, that I never 
 had before, for which I hope to be the better, though 
 I own I have no expectations of ever equalling grand- 
 mamma.' 
 
 'Besides, Hugh,' said Sarah, 'we should always 
 choose the best models, as our drawing master says-, 
 even if we can't equal them.' 
 
 ' Thanks and blessings for your love, my dear chil- 
 dren I ' said Mrs Atkinson ; ' my head is too old to be 
 -turned by compliments, or yours would be fatal to me.' 
 
THE CHILDREN'S WEEK. 135 
 
 But precious as your affection is, I cannot wish that it 
 should obscure your judgments. As you advance your- 
 selves, your standard will become higher and higher ; 
 and you will hereafter look back with a smile, at your 
 exaggerated estimate of " grandmamma." When that 
 time comes, all I ask of you, is, that you will neverthe- 
 less continue to love me as well, as I am willing to 
 believe you have, during this happy Children' 's Week/ 
 
# 
 
 
 ■