The One Moss-Rose

LONDON: T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW; EDINBURGH; AND NEW YORK.
1872.

EONARD DOBBIN had a humble cottage upon Squire Courtenay's estate; but although the cottage was humble, it was always kept neat and clean, and was a pattern of everything that a poor man's dwelling should be. The white-washed walls, the smoothly raked gravel walk, and the sanded floor, were so many evidences that Leonard was a careful and a thrifty man; and while some of his poorer neighbours laughed, and asked where was the use of being so precise, they could not help respecting Dobbin, nevertheless.
The great, and, indeed, almost the only pleasure upon which the labourer allowed himself to spend any time, was the little flower garden in front of the house. The garden was Dobbin's pride; and the pride of the garden was a moss-rose tree, which was the peculiar treasure of the labourer's little crippled son, who watched it from the window, and whenever he was well enough, crept out to water it, and pick off any stray snail which had ventured to climb up its rich brown leaves. No mother ever watched her little infant with more eager eyes than Jacob Dobbin did his favourite rose; and no doubt he thought all the more of it because he had so few pleasures in life. Jacob Dobbin had no fine toys, he could not take any long walks, nor could he play at cricket, or any such games, therefore his rose tree was all the more precious; in fact, in his estimation there was nothing to compare with it in the world.
There was a great difference between poor Jacob's lot and that of Squire Courtenay's son. James Courtenay had plenty of toys; he had also a pony, and a servant to attend him whenever he rode out; when the summer came, he used often to go out sailing with the squire in his yacht; and there was scarce anything on which he set his heart which he was not able to get.
With all these pleasures, James Courtenay was not, however, so happy a youth as poor Jacob Dobbin. Jacob, though crippled, was contented—his few pleasures were thoroughly enjoyed, and a contented mind is a continual feast; whereas James was spoiled by the abundance of good things at his command; he was like the full man that loatheth the honeycomb; and he often caused no little trouble to his friends, and, indeed, to himself also, by the evil tempers he displayed.