o THE PARENT'S ASSISTANT; OK, STORIES FOR CHILD1 BY MARIA EDGEWORT IN SIX VOLUMES. VOL. II. CONTAINING THE BIRTH-DAY PRESENT, SIMPLE SUSAN. 5 A NEW EDITION. LONDON : PRINTED FOR R. HUNTER, SUCCESSOR TO THE LATE J. JOHNSON; AND BALDWIN, CRADOCK, AND JOY ; PATERNOSTER-ROW. ^ 1817. LIBRARY UNIVERSHY OF CALIFORNIA. DAVIS Printed by >. Hamilton, Weybridge, Surrey, \ THE BIRTH-DAY PRESENT. " MAMMA/' said Rosamond, after a long silence, " do you know what I have been thinking of all this time ?" " No, my dear. What ?" " Why, mamma, about my cousin Bell's birth-day; do you know what day it is?" 44 No, I don't remember." " Dear mother! don't you remember it's the 22d of December ; and her birth- day is the day after to-morrow ? -Don't you recollect now? But you never re- member about birth-days, mamma: that was just what I was thinking of, that you never remember my sister Laura's birth-day, or or -or minc 9 mamma." VOL. IT. B THE BIRTH-DAY PRESENT. " What do you mean, my dear ? I remember your birth-day perfectly well." " Indeed ! but you never keep it, though." " What do you mean by keeping your birth-day?" " Oh, mamma, you know very well as Bell's birth-day is kept. In the first place there is a great dinner." " And can Bell eat more upon her birth-day than upon any other day?" his pen was across his mouth, and his brown wig pushed oblique upon his contracted forehead^ the wig was always pushed crooked whenever he was in a brown, or rather a black study. Barbara, who did not, like Susan, bear with her father's testy humour from affection and gentleness of disposition, but who always humoured him from artifice, tried all her skill to fathom his thoughts; and when she found that it would not do, she went to tell her maid so, and to complain that her father was so cross, there was no bearing him. SIMPLE SUSAN. It is true, that Attorney Case was not in the happiest mood possible, for he was by no means satisfied with his morning's work at the Abbey. Sir Ar- thur Somers, the new man, di4 not suit him, and he began to be rather apprehen- sive, that he should not suit Sir Arthur. He had sound reasons for his doubts. Sir Arthur Somers was an excellent lawyer, and a perfectly honest man. This seemed to our attorney a contra- diction in terms; in the course of his practice the case had not occurred, and he had no precedents ready to direct his proceedings. Sir Arthur Somers was a man of wit and eloquence, yet of plain-dealing and humanity. The attorney couid not per- suade himself to believe that the bene- volence was any thing but enlightened cunning, and the plain-dealing he one 104 SIMPLE SUSAN. minute dreaded as the master-piece of art, and the next despised as the cha- racteristic of folly. In short, he had not yet decided whether he was an ho- nest man or a knave. He had settled accounts with him for his late agency, he had talked about sundry matters of business, he constantly perceived that he could not impose upon Sir Arthur; but, that he could know all the mazes of the law, and yet prefer the straight road, was incomprehensible. Mr. Case paid him some compliments on his great legal abilities, and his high reputation at the bar. " I have left the bar," replied Sir Arthur, coolly. The attorney looked in unfeigned astonishment, when a man was actually making 30001. per annum at the bar, that he should leave it. SIMPLE SUSAN. 105 " I am come," said he, C4 to enjoy the kind of domestic life which I prefer to all others in the country, amongst people whose happiness I hope to in- crease/* At this speech the attorney changed his ground, flattering himself that he should find his man averse to business, and ignorant of country affairs. He talked of the value of land and of new leases. Sir Arthur wished to enlarge his do- main, to make a ride round it. A map of the domain was upon the table; Far- mer Price's garden came exactly across the new road for the ride. Sir Arthur looked disappointed, and the keen attor- ney seized the moment to inform him that " Price's whole land was at his disposal." 106 SIMPLE SUSAN. " At my disposal! how so ?" cried Sir Arthur eagerly ; it will not be out of lease J believe these ten years. I'll look into the rent-roll again, perhaps I am mistaken, " " You are mistaken, my good sir, and you are not mistaken, " said Mr. Case, with a shrewd smile; cc the land will not be out of lease these ten years in one sense, and in another it is out of lease at this time being. To come to the point at once, the lease is ab originc null and void, I have detected a capital flaw in the body of it; I pledge my credit upon it, sir, it can't stand a single term in law or equity." The attorney observed, that at these words Sir Arthur's eye was fixed with a look of earnest attention. cc Now I have him !" said the cunning tempter to himself. SIPMLE SUSAN. 10? " Neither in law nor equity ?" repeat- ed Sir Arthur, with apparent incredu- lity Are you sure of that, Mr. Case ?" " Sure ! As I told you before, sir, I'd pledge my whole credit upon the thing I'd stake my existence." " Thafs something" said Sir Arthur, as if he was pondering upon the matter. The attorney went on with all the eagerness of a keen man, who sees a chance at one stroke of winning a rich friend, and of ruining a poor enemy ; he explained with legal volubility, and technical amplification, the nature of the mistake in Mr. Price's lease. " It was, sir," said he, " a lease for the life of Peter Price, Susanna his wife, and to the sur- vivor or survivors of them, or for the full time and term of twenty years, to be computed from the first day of May then next ensuing. Now, sir, this you 108 SIMPLE SUSAN. see is a lease in reversion, which he late Sir Benjamin Somers had not, by his settlement, a right to make. This is a curious mistake, you see, Sir Arthur, and in filling up those printed leases there's always a good chance of some flaw ; I find it perpetually, but I never found a better than this in the whole course of my practice." Sir Arthur stood in silence. " My dear sir," said the attorney, taking him by the button, u you have no scruple of stirring in this business V 9 " A little," said Sir Arthur. " Why then that can be done away in a moment; your name shall not ap- pear in it at all; you have nothing to do but to make over the lease to me I make all safe to you with my bond. Now being in possession, I come forward in my own properperson. Shall I proceed?" SIMPLE SUSAN. 109 at the Abbey, or the ladies will think nothing of me and, Betty, remember the mantua-maker too. I must see and coax papai to buy me a new gown against the ball. I can see, you know, something of the fashions to-morrow at the Abbey. I shall look the ladies well over, I promise you. And, Betty, I have thought of the most charming present for Miss Somers : as papa says, it's good never to go empty- handed to a great house, I'll make Miss Somers, who is fond, as her maid told you, of such things I'll make Miss Somers a present of that Guinea-hen of Susan's ; it's of no use to me, so do you carry it up early in the morning to the Abbey, with my compliments. That's the thing. " 164 SIMPLE SUSAN. In full confidence that her present, and her bonnet, would operate effec- tually in her favour, Miss Barbara paid her first visit at the Abbey. She ex- pected to see wonders ; she w r as dressed in all the finery which she had heard from her maid, who had heard from the prentice of a Shrewsbury milliner, was the thing in London ; and she was much surprised and disappointed, when she was shown into the room where the Miss Somerses, and the ladies at the Abbey, were sitting, to see that they did not, in any one part of their dress, agree with the picture her imagination had formed of fashionable ladies. She was embar- rassed when she saw books, and work, find drawings, upon the table; and she began to think, that some affront was meant to her, because the company did not sit with their hands before them. SIMPLE SUSAN. 165 When Miss Somers endeavoured to find out conversation that would interest her, and spoke of walks, and flowers, and gardening, of which she was herself fond. Miss Barbara still thought herself undervalued, and soon contrived to ex- pose her ignorance most completely, by talking of things which she did not un- derstand. Those who never attempt to appear what they are not those who do not in their manners pretend to any thing unsuited to their habits and situation in life, never are in danger of being laugh- ed at by sensible, well-bred people of any rank ; but affectation is the constant and just object of ridicule. Miss Barbara Case, with her mistaken airs of gentility, aiming to be thought a woman, and a fine lady, whilst she was in reality a child, and a vulgar attorney's - 166 SIMPLE SUSAN. daughter,' rendered herself so thoroughly ridiculous, that the good-natured, yet discerning spectators, were painfully di- vided between their sense of comic ab- surdity, and a feeling of shame for one who could feel nothing for herself. One by one the ladies dropped off Miss Somers went out of the room for a few minutes to alter her dress, as it was the custom of the family, before dinner. She left a port-folio of pretty drawings and good prints, for Miss Barbara's amusement ; but Miss Barbara's thoughts were so intent upon the harper's ball, that she could not be entertained with such trifles. How unhappy are those who spend their time in expectation ! They can ne- ver enjoy the present. Whilst Barbara was contriving means of interesting Miss Somers in her favour, SIMPLE SUSAN, 167 she recollected, with surprise, that not one word had yet been said of her pre- sent of the Guinea-hen. Mrs. Betty, in the hurry of her dress- ing her young lady in the morning, had forgotten it, but it came just whilst Miss Somers was dressing, and the house- keeper came into her mistress's room to announce its arrival. " Ma'am," said she, " here's a beau- tiful Guinea-hen just come, with Miss Barbara Case's compliments to you." Miss Somers knew, by the tone in which the housekeeper delivered this message, that there was something in the business, which did not perfectly please her. She made no answer, in ex- pectation that the housekeeper, who was a woman of a very open temper, would explain her cause of dissatisfaction. In this she was not mistaken : the house- 168 SIMPLE SUSAN. keeper came close up to the dressing- table, and continued, " I never like to speak till I'm sure, ma'am, and I'm not quite sure, to say certain, in this case, ma'am, but still I think it right to tell you, which can't wrong any body, what came across my mind about this same Guinea-hen, ma'am, and you can inquire into it, and do as you please afterwards, ma'am. Some time ago we had fine Guinea-fowls of our own, and I made bold, not thinking, to be sure, that all our own would die away from us, as they have done, to give a fine couple last Christmas to Susan Price, and very fond and pleased she was at the time, and I'm sure would never have parted with the hen with her good- will; but if my eyes don't strangely mistake, this hen, that comes from Miss Barbara, is the self-same iden- SIMPLE SUSAN. 169 tical Guinea-hen that I gave to Susan, And how Miss Bab came by it, is the thing that puzzles me. If my boy Phi- lip was at home, may be, as he's often, at Mrs. Price's (which I don't disapprove), he might know the history of the Gui- nea-hen. I expect him home this night, and, if you have no objection, I will sift the affair. " The shortest way, I should think," said Henrietta, " would be to ask Miss Case herself about it, which I will do this evening." " If you please ma'am," said the housekeeper, coldly, for she knew that Miss Barbara was not famous in the vil- lage for speaking the truth. Dinner was now served. Attorney Case expected to smell mint-sauce, and as the covers were taken from off the dishes, looked around for lamb but VOL. II. Q 170 SIMPLE SUSAN. no lamb appeared. He had a dexterous knack of twisting the conversation to his point. Sir Arthur was speaking, when they sat down to dinner, of a new carving- knife, which he lately had had made for his sister; the attorney immediately went from carving-knives to poultry, thence to butcher's meat : some joints, he ob- served, were much more difficult to carve than others ; he never saw a man carve better than the gentleman opposite him, who was the curate of the parish. " But, sir," said the vulgar attorney, " I must make bold to differ with you in one point, and I'll appeal to Sir Arthur. Sir Arthur, pray, may I ask, when you carve a fore-quarter of lamb, do you, when you raise the shoulder, throw in salt or not?" This well-prepared question was not SIMPLE SUSAN. 171 lost upon Sir Arthur; the attorney was thanked for his intended present, but mortified and surprised, to hear Sir Ar- thur say, that it was a constant rule of his never to accept of any presents from his neighbours. < c If we were to accept a Iamb from a rich neighbour on my estate," said he, Cf I am afraid we should mortify many of our poor tenants, who can have little to offer, though, perhaps, they may bear us thorough good-will notwithstanding." After the ladies left the dining-room, as they were walking up and down the large hall, Miss Barbara had a fair opportunity of imitating her keen fa- ther's method of conversing. One of the ladies observed, that this hall would be a charming place for music Bab brought in harps, and harpers, and the harpers' frail, in a breath. " I know 172 SIMPLE SUSAN. so much about it, about the ball I mean/ 1 said she, " because a lady in Shrewsbury, a friend of papa's, offered to take me with her, but papa did not like to give her the trouble of sending so far for me, though she has a coach of her own." Barbara fixed her eyes upon Miss So- mers, as she spoke, but she could not read her countenance as distinctly as she wished, because Miss Somers was at this moment letting down the veil of her hat. " Shall we walk out before tea ?" said she to her companions. cc I have a pretty Guinea-hen to show you." Barbara, secretly drawing propitious omens from the Guinea-hen, followed with a confidential step. The pheasantry was well filled with pheasants, peacocks, &c. and Susan's SIMPLE SUSAN, 173 pretty little Guinea-hen appeared well, even in this high company it was much admired. Barbara was in glory but her glory was of short duration. Just as Miss Somers was going to inquire into the Guinea-hen's history, Philip came up, to ask permission to have a bit of sycamore, to turn a nutmeg-box for his mother. Philip was an ingenious lad, and a good turner for his age ; Sir Arthur had put by a bit of sycamore on purpose for him, and Miss Somers told him where it was to be found. He thanked her, but in the midst of his bow of thanks his eye was struck by the sight of the Guinea-hen, and he involunta- rily exclaimed, " Susan's Guinea-hen, I declare !" " No, it's not Susan's Guinea-hen," said Miss Barbara, colouring furiously. Q3 174 SIMPLE SUSAN. " It is mine, and I've made a present of it to Miss Somers." At the sound of Bab's voice Philip turned saw her and indignation, un- restrained by the presence of all the amazed spectators, flashed in his coun- tenance. " What is the matter, Philip ?" said MissSomers, in a pacifying tone ; but Philip was not inclined to be pacified. " Why, ma'am," said he, " may I speak out ?" and, without waiting for permission, he spoke out, and gave a full, true, and warm account of Rose's embassy, and of Miss Barbara's cruel and avaricious proceedings. Barbara denied, prevaricated, stam- mered, and at last was overcome with confusion, for which even the most in- dulgent spectators could scarcely pity her. SIMPLE SUSAN. 175 Miss Somers, however, mindful of what was due to her guest, was anxious to dispatch Philip for his piece of syca- more. Bab recovered herself as soon as he was out of sight; but she further ex- posed herself by exclaiming, " I'm sure I wish this pitiful Guinea-hen had never come into my possession. I wish Susan had kept it at home, as she should have done !" " Perhaps she will be more careful, now that she has received so strong a lesson," said Miss Somers. " Shall we try her ?" continued she ; " Philip will, I dare say, take the Guinea-hen back to Susan, if we desire it." " If you please ma'am/' said Bar- bara, sullenly ; " I have nothing mors to do with it." So the Guinea-hen was delivered to 176 SIMPLE SUSAN, Philip, who set off joyfully with his prize, and was soon in sight of farmer Price's cottage. He stopped when he came to the door ; he recollected Rose, and her ge- nerous friendship for Susan ; he was de- termined, that she should have the plea- sure of restoring the Guinea-hen ; he ran into the village : all the children who had given up their little purse on May- day, were assembled on the play-green ; they were delighted to see the Guinea-hen once more- Philip took his pipe and ta- bor, and they marched in innocent tri- umph towards the white- washed cottage. " Let me come with you let me come with you," said the butcher's boy to Philip. " Stop one minute! my fa- ther has something to say to you," He darted into his father's house. The little procession stopped, and in a few SIMPLE SUSAN. 1?7 minutes the bleating of a lamb was heard. Through a back passage which led into the paddock behind the house, they saw the butcher leading a lamb. " It is Daisy," exclaimed Rose " It's Daisy! 11 repeated all her compa- nions. " Susan's lamb ! Susan's lamb !" and there was a universal shout o* joy. cc Well, for my part," said the good butcher, as soon as he could be heard, " for my part I would not be so cruel as Attorney Case for the whole world. These poor brute-beasts don't know aforehand what's going to happen to them; and as for dying, it's what we must all do some time or another; but to keep wringing the hearts of the living, that have as much sense as one's self, is what I call cruel ; and is not this what Attorney Case has 178 SIMPLE SUSAN. been doing by poor Susan, and her whole family, ever since he took a spite against them ? But, at any rate, here's Susan's lamb safe and sound ; I'd have taken it back sooner, but I was off be- fore day to the fair, and am but just Come back ; however, Daisy has been as well off in my paddock, as he would have been in the field by the water- side." The obliging shopkeeper, who showed the pretty calicoes to Susan, was now at his door ; and when he saw the lamb, heard that it was Susan's, and learnt its history, he said that he would add his mite, and he gave the children some ends of narrow riband, with which Rose decorated her friend's lamb. The pipe and tabor now once more began to play, and the procession moved on in joyful order, after giving the SIMPLE SUSAN. humane butcher three cheers -three cheers which were better deserved, than " loud huzzas" usually are. Susan was working in her arbour, with her little deal table before her; when she heard the sound of the music ; she put down her work and listened; she saw the crowd of children coming nearer and nearer; they had closed round Daisy, so that she did not see it, but as they came up to the garden-gate she saw Rose beckon to her.* Philip played as loud as he could, that she might not hear, till the proper moment, the bleat- ing of the lamb. Susan opened the garden-wicket, and #t this signal the crowd divided, and the first thing that Susan saw in the midst of her taller friends was little smiling Mary, with the Guinea-hen ia her arms* 180 SIMPLE SUSAN. " Come on ! come on !" cried Mary as Susan started with joyful surprise, " you have more to see." At this instant the music paused ; Su- san heard the bleating of a lamb, and scarcely daring to believe her senses, she pressed eagerly forward, and beheld poor Daisy ! she burst into tears. " I did not shed one tear when I parted with you, my dear little Daisy !" said she; " it was for my father and mother ; I would not have parted with you for any thing else in the whole world. Thank you, thank you all/' added she to her companions, who sym- pathised in her joy, even more than they had sympathised in her sorrow. " Now if my father was not to go away from us next week, and if my mother was quite stout, I should be the happiest person in the world !" SIMPLE SUSAN. 181 As Susan pronounced these words, a voice behind the little listening crowd cried, in a brutal tone, " Let us pass, " if you please, you have no right to " stop up the public road !" This was the voice of Attorney Case, who was re- turning with his daughter Barbara from his visit to the Abbey He saw the lamb, and tried to whistle as he passed on ; Barbara also saw the Guinea-hen, and turned her head another way, that she might avoid the contemptuous, re- proachful looks of those whom she only affected to despise. Even her new bon- net, in which she had expected to be so much admired, was now only service- able to hide her face, and conceal her mortification. " I am glad she saw the Guinea-hen," cried Rose, who now held it in her hands. VOL. ii. R 182 SIMPLE SUSAN. " Yes/' said Philip, she'll not for- get May-day in a hurry." " Nor I neither, I hope," said Su- san, looking round upon her compa- nions with a most affectionate smile : " I hope, whilst I live, I shall never forget your goodness to me last May- day. Now I've my pretty Guinea- hen safe once more, I should think of re- turning your money." cc No! no! no!" was the general cry. " We don't want the money keep it, keep it you want it for your father/' cc Well," said Susan, " I am not too proud to be obliged. I will keep your money for my father. Perhaps some time or other I may be able to earn " " Oh," interrupted Philip, " don't let us talk of earning, don't let us talk to her of money now; she has not had time SIMPLE SUSAN. 183 hardly to look at poor Daisy and her Guinea-hen. Come, we had best go about our business, and let her have them all to herself." The crowd moved away in conse- quence of Philip's considerate- advice; but it was observed, that he was the very last to stir from the garden-wicket himself. He staid, first, to inform Susan, that it was Rose who tied the ribands on Daisy's head ; then he staid a little longer to let her into the history of the Guinea-hen, and to tell her who it was that brought the hen home from the Abbey. Rose held the sieve, and Susan was feeding her long-lost favourite, whilst Philip leaned over the wicket prolonging his narration. " Now, my pretty Guinea-hen, my naughty Guinea-hen, that flew away 184 SIMPLE SUSAN. from me, you shall never serve me so again I must cut your nice wings, but I won't hurt you." " Take care," cried Philip, " you'd better, indeed you'd better let me hold her, whilst you cutJier wings." When this operation was successfully performed, \vhich it certainly could never have been, if Philip had not held the hen for Susan, he recollected that his mother had sent him with a message to Mrs. Price. This message led to another quarter of an hour's delay, for he had the whole history of the Guinea-hen to tell over again to Mrs. Price ; and the farmer himself luckily came in whilst it was going on, so it was but civil to begin it afresh ; and then the farmer was so re- joiced to see his Susan so happy again with her two little favourites, that he de- SIMPLE SUSAN. 185 clared he must see Daisy fed himself, and Philip found that he was wanted to hold the jug full of milk, out of which Farmer Price filled the pan for Daisy ! happy Daisy ! who lapped at his ease, whilst Susan caressed him, and thanked her fond father and her pleased mother. " But, Philip," said Mrs. Price, I'll hold the jug you'll be late with your message to your mother ; we'll not detain you any longer. 5 ' Philip departed, and as he went out of the garden-wicket he looked up, and saw Bab and her maid Betty staring out of the window, as usual ; on this he immediately turned back to try whether he had shut the gate fast,lest the Guinea- hen might stray out, and fall again into the hands of the enemy. Miss Barbara, in the course of this day, had felt considerable mortification, R 3 186 SIMPLE SUSAN. but no contrition. She was vexed that her meanness was discovered, but she felt no desire to cure herself of any of her faults. The ball was still uppermost in her vain selfish soul. " Well," said she, to her confidante Betty, " you hear how things have turned out ; but if Miss Somers won't think of asking me to go with her, I've a notion I know who will. As papa says > it's a good thing to have two strings jto one's bow." Now, some officers, who were quar- tered at Shrewsbury, had become ac- quainted with Mr. Case; they had gotteri Into some quarrel with a tradesman in the town, and Attorney Case had pro- mised to bring them through the af- fair, as the man threatened to take the Javy pf them. Upon the faith of this and with the vain hope, th^t SIMPLE SUSAN. IS? by civility they might dispose him to bring in a reasonable bill of costs, these officers sometimes invited Mr. Case to the mess 5 and one of them, who had lately been married, prevailed upon his bride sometimes to take a little notice of Miss Barbara. It was with this lady ? that Miss Barbara now hoped to go to the harpers' ball. " The officers and Mrs. Strathspey, or more properly Mrs. Strathspey and the officers, are to breakfast here to-morrow, do you know," said Bab to Betty. " One of them dined at the Abbey to day, and told papa, they'd all come ; they are going out, on a party, some- where into the country, and breakfast here in their way. Pray, Betty, don't forget that Mrs. Strathspey can't break- fast without honeys I heard her say so 188 SIMPLE SUSAN. " Then indeed," said Betty, I'm afraid Mrs. Strathspey will be likely to go without her breakfast here, for not a spoonful of honey have we, let her long for it ever so much." cf But, surely," said Bab, " we can contrive to get some honey in the neigh* bourhood." " There's none to be bought, as I know of," said Betty. " But is there none to be begged or borrowed?" said Bab, laughing. " Do you forget Susan's bee-hive? Step over to her in the morning, with my compli- ments, and see what you can do tell her it is for Mrs. Strathspey." In the morning Betty went with Miss Barbara's compliments to Susan, to beg some honey for Mrs. Strathspey, who could not breakfast without it. Susan did not like to part with her SIMPLE SUSAN. 189 "honey, because her mother loved it, and she therefore gave Betty but a small quantity : when Barbara saw how little Susan sent, she called her a miser ^ and said she must have some more for Mrs. Strathspey. f * I'll go myself and speak to her; come you with me, Betty," said the younglady, who found it at present convenient to forget her having declared, the day that she sucked up the broth, that she never would honour Susan with another visit. " Susan," said she, accosting the poor girl, whom she had done every thing in her power to injure, out not disposed to let any thing be taken from her, or coaxed out of her, by those she had reason to despise. She civilly answered, that she was sorry she had no more ho- ney to spare. Barbara grew angry, and lost all command of herself, when she saw that Susan, without regarding her reproaches, went on looking through the glass pane in the bee-hive. " I'll tell you what, Susan Price/' said she, in a high tone, "the honey I will have, so you may as well give it tome by fair means. "Yes or no? Speak ! will you give it me or not ? will you give me that piece of the honey-comb that lies there? 1 ' cc That bit of honey-comb is for my mother's breakfast/' said Susan 3 " I cannot give it you." SIMPLE SUSAN. 191 " Can't you I" said Bab ; cc then see if I don't get it." She stretched across Susan for the honey-comb, which was lying by some rosemary-leaves, that Susan had freshly gathered for her mother's tea. Bab grasped, but at her first effort she reached only the rosemary; she made a second dart at the honey-comb, and in her struggle to obtain it, she overset the bee-hive. The bees swarmed about her her maid Betty screamed, and ran away, Susan, who was sheltered by a laburnum-tree, called to Barbara, upon whom the black clusters of bees were now settling, and begged her to stand still, and not to beat them away. " If you stand quietly, you won't be stung perhaps." But instead of standing quietly, Bab buffetted, and stamped, and roared, and the bees stung her ter- SIMPLE SUSAN. ribly; her arms and her face swelled in a frightful manner. She washelpedhome by poor Susan, and treacherous Mrs. Betty, who, now the mischief was done, thought only of exculpating herself to her master. u Indeed, Miss Barbara," said she, " this was quite wrong of you, to go and yet yourself into such a scrape. I shall be turned away for it, you'll see." " I don't care whether you are turned away or not," said Barbara, " I never felt such pain in my life. Can't you do something for me ? I don't mind the pain either, so much as being such a fright. Pray, how am I to be fit to be seen at breakfast by Mrs. Strathspey ? and I suppose I can't go to the ball either, to morrow, after all!" " No, that you can't expect to do, indeed/' said Betty the comforter. " You SIMPLE SUSAN. 193 need not think of balls, for those lumps and swellings won't go off your face this week. That's not what pains me, but I'm thinking of what your papa will say to me, when he sees you, miss. Whilst this amiable mistress and maid were in their adversity, reviling one ano- ther, Susan, when she saw that she could be of no farther use^ was preparing to depart, but at the house-door she was met by Mr. Case. Mr. Case had revolved things in his mind, for his second visit at the Abbey pleased him as little as his first, from a few words Sir Arthur and Miss Sorriers dropped in speaking of Susan and Far- mer Price. Mr. Case began to fear, that he had mistaken his game in quarrelling with this family. The refusal of his pre- sent dwelt upon the attorney's mind, and he was aware, that if the history of VOL. II, S 194 SIMPLE SUSAN. Susan's lamb ever reached the Abbey, he was undone ; he now thought, that the most prudent course he could possibly follow would be, to husk up matters with the Prices with all convenient speed. Consequently, when he met Susan at his door, he forced a gracious smile. " How is your mother, Susan ?" said he. " Is there any thing in our house can be of service to her? I'm glad to see you here. Barbara ! Barbara ! Bab !" cried he *, cc come down stairs, child, and speak to Susan Price." And, as no Barbara answered, her father stalked up stairs directly, opened the door, and stood amazed at the spectacle of her swelled visage. Betty instantly began to tell the story her own way. Bab contradicted her as fast as she spoke. The attorney turned the maid away upon the spot j SIMPLE SUSAN T . 195 and partly with real anger, and partly with politic affectation of anger, he de- manded from his daughter, how she dared to treat Susan Price so ill : " When she was so neighbourly and obliging as to give you some of her honey, couldn't you be content without seizing upon the honey-comb by force ? This is scanda- lous behaviour, and what, I assure you, I can't countenance." Susan now interceded for Barbara ; and the attorney, softening his voice, said that Susan was a great deal too good to her, " as indeed you are, Su- san," added he, " to every body. I forgive her for your sake." Susan courtesied, in great surprise, but her lamb could not be forgotten ; and she left the attorney's house as soon as she could, to make her mother's rose- mary-tea for breakfast. 106 SIMPLE SUSAN. Mr. Case saw, that Susan was not so simple as to be taken in by a few fair words. His next attempt was to con- ciliate Farmer Price ; the farmer was a blunt, honest man, and his countenance remained inflexibly contemptuous, when the attorney addressed him in his softest tone. So stood matters the day of the long- expected harpers' ball. Miss Barbara Case, stung by Susan's bees, could not, after all her manoeuvres, go with Mrs. Strathspey to the ball. The ball-room was filled early in the evening ; there was a numerous assem- bly; the harpers, who contended for the prize, were placed under the music- gallery at the lower end of the room; amongst them was our old blind friend, who, as he was not so well clad as his Competitors, seemed to be disdained !by SIMPLE SUSAN. 197 many of the spectators. Six ladies and six gentlemen were now appointed, to be judges of the performance. They were seated in a semicircle, opposite to the harpers. The Miss Somerses, who were fond of music, were amongst the ladies in the semicircle, and the prize was lodged in the hands of Sir Arthur. There was now silence. The first harp sounded, and as each musician tried his skill, the audience seemed to think, that each deserved the prize. The old blind man was the last ; he tuned his instrument, and such a simple pa- thetic strain was heard as touched every heart. All were fixed in delighted at- tention, and when the music ceased, the silence for some moments continued. The silence was followed by an universal buzz of applause. The judges were una- nimous in their opinions, and it was s 3 IQ8 SIMPLE SUSAN. declared, that the old blind harper, who played the last, deserved the prize. The simple, pathetic air, which won the suffrages of the whole assembly, was his own composition; he was pressed to give the words belonging to the music, and at last he modestly offered to re- peat them, as he could not see to write. Miss Somers's ready pencil was in- stantly produced, and the old harper dictated the words of his ballad, which he called,