THE LITTLE WATER-CARRIER; OR, THE REWARD OF INDUSTRY.
"Mamma," said little Sidney Fletcher, taking his mother's hand and leading her to the window, "do look at that little boy who is carrying those water-buckets on his shoulders through the rain."
"Well, Sydney, I see him; but why did you wish me to leave my work? was it only to look at the little water-carrier?" inquired Mrs. Fletcher.
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Published April 20 1823 by Harris & Son corner of St. Pauls.
"I wanted, my dear mamma, to know what his name is; I thought you could tell me."
"And why did you want to know his name?" said his mother.
"Because," answered Sydney, "he seems so industrious. Charles and myself often sit and watch him from the school-room window. He comes from behind that opening in the street, going to work very early, and keeping on till it is almost dark; don't you think the poor fellow must be very much tired before night?"
Mrs. Fletcher was pleased to see the amiable disposition of her child, and said,
"My dear boy, I have myself often observed the industry of the little water-carrier. I dare say he is a good boy; for he never appears discontented at his burden, but carries it cheerfully along, though it is certainly too great a weight for one so small."
"Indeed, mamma," said Sidney, "I do not think I should be near so patient as he is, for I would walk slower, and not go so often."
"Then you would do very wrong, Sidney: for if you were forced to work, would it not render the labour lighter to do it willingly, and make haste? That little boy ought to be a pattern for you and Charles."
"You are right, mamma, I do think, in what you say," observed Sidney thoughtfully; "for I got my Latin lesson done much sooner (though it was very hard) this morning, because I learned it fast, and did not leave off to look out at the window, or to play; and papa gave me this nice pencil-case, and said I was a good boy."
"Then, Sydney," said his mother, "I hope you will not forfeit your good name; and if your father says to-morrow evening that you are still a good boy, and have not done any thing amiss, I will give you the silver pen you have wished for so long."
Sidney was sure that he should be good enough to merit the pen, which he had long desired to possess. He was so pleased already with the thought of the reward, that he began jumping about the room for joy, making rather more noise than his mother's head could bear.
"I fear, Sidney, you are in a fair way of losing the pen, if you go on making so much noise, for that is not being good: but I do not wish to alarm you (for Sidney began to look rather grave); see, here are your sisters and brother, with your papa,"
Who then entered the room. Marcella, the eldest girl, was a year younger than her brother Charles, who was nearly fourteen years old: Sidney was eleven, and little Juliet eight. The two boys were studying the Latin language, with the help of their father; and Marcella French with her mother: as to little Juliet, she was as yet but in the first rudiments of English grammar. Mr. Fletcher instructed the girls in writing and cyphering with their brothers.
The rain having left off, the children put on their hats, and went to take a walk with their father. Mrs. Fletcher preferred remaining at home, to the great disappointment of Sydney, who was very fond of his mother; besides, he thought he should be less likely to err if she were with him.
Their way lay through a beautiful green lane, by the side of a wood. Charles, who was of a more serious turn than the generality of children of his early age, walked with his father, conversing on the various objects that met their view as they proceeded; whilst the other children tripped gaily on before, sometimes running races, and at other times gathering the wild flowers that grew in the hedges. Little Juliet at length called them.
"Come, come," said she, "and see what I have found."
Sidney and Marcella soon came running to the spot where Juliet was plucking wild strawberries.
"I would not eat any till you came up," said little Juliet.
"That was a good girl," said her sister.
Sidney kissed her for remembering them, but said, "I will not take them from you, for I know where I can get plenty;" and away he ran, till he found a large gap in the hedge, through which he climbed up the bank into the wood. Marcella begged him to return; but Sidney was deaf to all intreaties, and invited them to follow his example. Marcella would not, and told him how wrong it was to trespass on forbidden grounds.
"Oh," said he, "but I am not doing any hurt. Only see what a quantity of nice strawberries I have got in my hat: if you will hold your frock, I will throw you some."
"No, Sidney," said she, "they do not belong to us: we have no right to any of them."
"Why, if I did not pluck them the birds would, and you know the owner of the wood cannot hinder them," answered Sidney.
"Well, then," said Juliet, "consider how you are robbing the pretty robin redbreasts and the blackbirds of their food. Come back, come back, Sydney, for papa is close by."
"Wait a minute," said he.
"Make haste, then."
"Here I am," said he, jumping across the ditch, which, unfortunately for him, was at that part half full of dirty water, and the opposite side high and slippery. Just as he had gained the edge of the bank his feet slipped, and he fell back into the water up to his middle, and his new trowsers were dirted all over. With some trouble he contrived to scramble out, by the assistance of his sisters; and whilst they were trying to fish out his hat, which unfortunately had fallen into the ditch, and was now sailing about with the unlucky strawberries in it, Mr. Fletcher and Charles came up to where Sidney stood, dripping with wet, and wringing the water from his jacket.
"How is this, Sidney?" inquired his father: "have you been learning to swim in this clear stream with your clothes on?"
Sidney felt very much ashamed, for he did not like to confess how foolishly he had acted, and happening at this moment to recollect the silver pen, he conceived it was certainly lost: he therefore hung down his head and began to cry bitterly.
"Come, Sidney," said his father, "do not be such a baby as to cry: if you did fall into the ditch it cannot be helped; I dare say it was accidental."
But Sidney, who well knew how naughty he had been, only wept the more.
Charles having, in the mean time, by the assistance of his father's walking-stick, brought the hat and all its cargo safe to land, a suspicion of somewhat like the truth struck the mind of Mr. Fletcher, who demanded an account of the whole transaction. Marcella knew that her brother would rather suffer any punishment than tell a falsehood to screen himself, she therefore gave her father a brief account of the unlucky affair.
Mr. Fletcher observed, that the fault had brought its own punishment; and bade the children hasten home, as Sidney's wet clothes might do him a serious injury, if they were not speedily changed.
Sidney ran into the parlour, and with tears of real penitence confessed the fault to his mother.
"Well, Sidney," said his good mamma, "I am not very angry with you, as you have candidly told me all. But I fear the pen is forfeited; and you must not mind having to appear in those dirtied clothes, for I cannot afford to buy you new ones yet. I think you will take more heed, and not be so naughty for the future."
Sidney kissed his dear, kind mamma, and declared that he deserved to lose the pen, and wear the spoiled clothes, as a warning for him never to act contrary to the good advice of his sisters.
His mother then bade him change his clothes and return again to her. In about ten minutes Sidney returned, looking very clean and neat in his everyday clothes. He found his father, and brother, and sisters in the room. When he came in Mrs. Fletcher said, "now, children, I have some news concerning your little favourite the water-carrier." The two boys got on each side of her, eagerly asking her what she had heard about him.
"If you will have patience I will tell you, said Mrs. Fletcher. As soon as you were all gone, I put on my hat, and went to pay my milkwoman, Mrs. Beals, who lives under the same roof as the little water-carrier. There I learnt that he is a French boy, who has neither father nor mother, but only a blind grandfather, whom he entirely supports by his industry. This was enough for me; I tapped at the door, which was opened by the little fellow himself. He had been drawing water from the well; but on perceiving me he left his pails, and came up, cap in hand, and having dusted a chair, begged me, in the best English he could speak, to be seated. At one end of the kitchen, which, though scantily furnished, was very clean, sat an old man, with white hair and a long silver beard, splitting straw."
"An old man, with a long white beard!" exclaimed all the little children; "how funny he must have looked!"
"Did you not burst out a laughing, mamma, when you saw him?" asked little Juliet.
"No, indeed: I did not commit so foolish and cruel an action, as to laugh at an old blind man," said Mrs. Fletcher. "But are you inclined to hear the rest, or I shall leave off?"
"Oh no, dear mamma, do not leave off—pray go on," cried all the children in a breath.
"Well, I did not burst out a laughing, as you supposed, Juliet, but I took a seat close by the old blind man, who rose and asked Louis in French whether he had given the lady a seat, for he knew me to be a female by my voice. Now, children, I must inform you that the conversation was carried on in French; but as you do not understand that language, I shall give it you, as near as I can remember, in English.
"I told him that I was a neighbour, and hearing that he was both blind and ill, had come to see if I could render him any assistance. He expressed his gratitude, and said that he had been very sadly, but, by the blessing of God, he was now much better, owing to the care and tenderness with which his little grandchild had nursed him.
"I then told him how interested you all were for the little water-carrier. The old man smiled with pleasure, and said, 'Louis is indeed a good boy, and God will take care of him, and bountifully reward him for all the dutiful kindness he has shown to me.'
"He told me that Louis was nearly fifteen years old.
"'How long have you, then, been in this country?' asked I.
"'Nearly four years,' said the old man, 'during which time my son Louis has supported me by his industry.'
"I then asked him why he came to England. He said, 'Oh, lady, when the wars and the troubles broke out in our own country, I was too fond of my king to fight against him, so with my son and daughter, and this little Louis, I embarked, with what money we had, for England; but a storm came on in the night—the packet was wrecked, and my two children perished in the waves. By some miracle, myself and my grandchild were saved: but we lost all our property. You may be sure, madam, that I sorrowed greatly for the loss of my dear children; I would much rather it had pleased God to have taken me instead, or all of us together: but it was not so, and His will be done. I was enabled to reach London by the charity of a worthy gentleman, who likewise put me in a way of earning my bread by straw-work.'
"I relate this to you, as near as I can, in the same way old Justin told it to me. But to go on: he lived in this manner some time, but at length he fell sick of a fever, which deprived him of that greatest of all earthly blessings, his sight. His friend, the good gentleman, died suddenly, and Justin had exhausted all his little savings in medicine. Being blind he was unable to work, therefore what was he to do? Louis indeed had learned the art of working in straw: but he was very young, and his time was fully taken up in attending on his sick grandfather.
"On Justin's recovery, his landlady, finding that her lodgers had no means of paying their rent, advised him to travel down to one of the large towns, where he would get a double price for his straw baskets; besides which, she assured him that Louis would die, shut up in the close air of London. Pleased by the hopes which the woman held out to him, Justin and his grandson set off to travel down into the country. He said he did indeed experience great kindness from the people. He did not like to beg—he had never in his life before asked for a piece of bread; but the silent pleading of his little Louis, and his own forlorn state, moved the charitable hearts of the English to pity and relieve them."
Here Mrs. Fletcher paused to take breath.
"Well, mamma, go on," said Sidney, impatient to know what became of poor Justin.
"Do, dear mother, tell us all," said Charles and Marcella both together.
"Well, my dears, at last they came to this city, and a good widow took them into her house till they could get some employment. It was at a time when water was very scarce, as it often is at this part of the city, and water-carriers being in great request, the good widow heard of a place where Louis might probably earn some money. Louis was very happy to hear of this, and being fitted out with pails, he commenced his new employment, and worked so hard, that at the end of the week he brought home to his grandfather seven shillings. The benevolent widow, though she was in very moderate circumstances herself, would not take any payment for the time they had been at her house, and, not content with this kindness, she engaged to dispose of any little trifle they could manufacture in straw, to the ladies at whose houses she went to work.
"'You may be sure, madam,' said old Justin, 'that we were very grateful for the benefits bestowed by this excellent woman; but we insisted on her sharing the profits of our little works. Louis gave great satisfaction wherever he went with his water pails. One lady took a great deal of notice of him, because of his beautiful curling hair, and presented him with a new cap; another lady gave him a trifle to hear him talk in his broken English. Louis continued to work so hard, that I was fearful he would ruin his health; he now always earned eight shillings every week by carrying of water, besides putting our little dwelling to rights, and settling me to my employment, which was only splitting and preparing straw for him against the evening, for then he fell to work himself, and soon made straw baskets and boxes much quicker and neater than I ever could." The well whence Louis drew the water was at some distance from their lodgings, and the kind-hearted widow procured the rooms they now inhabit at a low rate. Being now close to the water, Louis was able to carry a great deal more in a day; they went on for about a year very comfortably, but at length old Justin fell sick, and then it was, Sidney, you used to see Louis working so hard in the rain, and beginning so much earlier, and keeping on till dark in the evening, that he might earn enough to support his sick grandfather. A little after this, their good friend the widow was forced to go up to London, to attend a daughter who was taken ill. I have now told you, my children, all that old Justin communicated to me."
"Oh, thank you, dear mamma," said Sidney, "for telling us all this. But what did Louis say to you?"
"Why Louis took my hand, and said, 'May God bless sweet lady, for you much good and ver kind.'
"I asked him two or three questions in English, and, among others, if he could read. He considered a minute or two, and then said very quickly, 'Louis no book—me no read.'
"I then asked him who taught him English?' He said, 'Good lady widow teach Louis English; me know none before.'
"I now spoke to him in French, and asked 'if he were contented with his present situation.' You should have seen him then, Sidney, how his black eyes sparkled with joy when he heard me address him in his native language! He answered me with great animation and vivacity, 'Oh, yes, Madame, I am quite contented, for I can honestly earn my bread; but I should be happier if I had more time to attend to the wants of my poor blind grandfather; and this I should have, if it were possible for me to work entirely on the straw.'
"I told him that he was a good boy, and that I would come and see him again. This was all that passed between Louis and myself, only I found that he had taken great pains in endeavouring to teach his grandfather a few words of English; but, alas! poor Justin was too old to learn a strange tongue."
"Oh, dear mamma," exclaimed Charles, taking his mother's hand as he looked wistfully in her face, "cannot we do something for poor Louis and his blind grandfather, that he may not be obliged to work so hard?"
"That is exactly what I wished to consult you all about," replied Mrs. Fletcher. "What will be the best plan to pursue? Charles, you are the eldest, and shall speak first."
"I would get Justin into the blind hospital," said Charles, "and then you know, mamma, we could put Louis to school."
"That will not do," rejoined Mrs. Fletcher: "for, in the first place, I am pretty sure that Louis would not quit his grandfather; and besides I do not see what good would result from putting Louis to school."
"Oh," cried Sidney and Marcella at once, "let us put all our money together and buy Louis some new clothes."
"That is much better," said their father, "and you are very good children to offer it; but I think I can improve on your plan still more."
"Do, dear papa, let us hear what you think best," they all said.
"You said just now, Sidney," answered Mr. Fletcher, "that you would all put your money together and buy Louis a suit of new clothes; now, if you will agree to that, I will make a contract with my friend Newman, who keeps the great toyshop at the bottom of Queen Street, to take all the straw ornaments, baskets, and whatever Louis makes, at a reasonable price. This I think can be done; for I heard him the other day expressing a wish that he could meet with such articles ready made here, as sending for them from London made them come very expensive."
"And as Justin can split and prepare the straw, ready for Louis to work up," said Mrs. Fletcher, "I have no doubt but they will by this mean gain a very comfortable livelihood."
The children unanimously agreed that this was the best plan yet thought of, and were all eager to have it put in immediate execution; accordingly they all ran to fetch their stock of cash. Charles had six shillings, which he had been a long time saving up to buy a flute; and in addition to this he had a new crown piece, which his uncle Fielding had sent him at Christmas, when each of his sisters and his brother had received a similar present. "I am sure," said he, "my uncle will not be angry if I give this to clothe poor Louis, so here are eleven shillings of mine."
"And I have nine shillings and six-pence," said Marcella, emptying her little treasure-box into her mother's lap.
Sidney had, with the new crown-piece, in all eight shillings, and some halfpence; but poor little Juliet (who could never pass either a cake-shop or a beggar while she had a penny in her pocket), now slowly advanced with her mite, which consisted of the enormous sum of three halfpence.
Mrs. Fletcher smiled at this donation, but it was rather a wonder that Juliet was mistress of so large a sum.
"Well, my dears," said their mother, "as you have all so generously given up your money, you shall go with me after tea to chuse some clothes for Louis. Charles, you are nearly of his size, so you shall be fitted for him."
The children jumped for joy whilst anticipating the delight which Louis would feel when newly clothed by their liberality; and after tea they went with their mother to a large warehouse of ready-made clothes, where, after some consultation, they made choice of a suit of good gray mixed cloth, a pair of shoes, and two strong pair of stockings. In the mean time Mr. Fletcher called on his friend Newman, who agreed to take all Louis's straw work, provided it was neatly wrought, and he was very glad to find one who would serve his shop so near home; he promised to call on Louis and look at some of his baskets, and if they were well made, he said he would keep him in constant employ. This being happily settled, Mr. Fletcher and his benevolent family returned home, much pleased with the success of their scheme.
It was too late that night to mention any thing to Louis; but the next morning, after the children had finished their studies, Mrs. Fletcher took them all to Justin's cottage, and Marcella was permitted to carry the bundle. On their tapping at the door, Louis, who was cooking a morsel of dinner over a little fire, sprung forward; and taking Mrs. Fletcher's hand, exclaimed, while his dark eyes sparkled with animation, "Her come agen! her come agen!" Mrs. Fletcher smiled at his imperfect attempt to express his joy at seeing her. "Here, Louis," said she (addressing herself to him in French), "here is a reward for the dutiful care you have taken of your grandfather."
Marcella advanced, and Louis gazed in silent wonder as she unfolded the bundle, and displayed its contents; indeed he seemed almost struck speechless with astonishment, whilst he looked alternately at the clothes and at his kind visitors. Mrs. Fletcher, perceiving his emotion, took him by the hand, and said, "Compose yourself, my little fellow, and try whether this suit will fit you."
Louis retired into an inner room: but soon returned so much improved in appearance, that his young friends could scarcely recognize in him the little ragged water-carrier whom they had been accustomed to see.
Justin now advanced to thank them for their bounty; and his joy was much increased when he was informed that Louis would be no longer forced to carry water pails for his subsistence, but would pursue his straw-work, and remain always with him. Mrs. Fletcher perceiving a sudden gloom overspread the face of Louis, asked him in French what was the matter.
"Ah, Madame," replied he, "I was thinking what pleasure my poor grandfather would have had in seeing his little Louis in these beautiful new clothes; but, alas! he is blind, and cannot see any thing."
The aged Justin laid his withered hand on the shoulder of his grandson, and said impressively, "My child, do not repine at the will of the Almighty. It pleased God to deprive me of my sight; yet he has had great blessings in store for me. It was only for you, my Louis, that I feared; and it has pleased heaven to listen to my prayers, and to raise up these kind friends for you. God bless and reward them as they deserve!"
Mr. Fletcher now entered the cottage, with his friend Mr. Newman. With a trembling hand Louis produced the specimens of his work, which were in a manner to decide his fate; but the toy-man was so well pleased with them, and so deeply interested in the little manufacturer, that he assured Louis he should never want employment whilst he lived, nor a friend while he continued to deserve one.
Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher kindly invited Louis and his grandfather to spend the remainder of the day with them, to the great joy of the children, who liked Louis better than ever; and they have often looked back with delight upon this day, as one of the happiest in their lives. Sidney at night received the silver pen, and a kiss from his mother, who said he had well deserved it.
While Justin and his grandson were at the house of Mrs. Fletcher, she ordered a few light chairs and some plain furniture, with materials to assist Louis in his work, to be conveyed to their cottage; and little Juliet who had bitterly lamented the smallness of her subscription to the purchasing the clothes, now begged her mother to allow of her presenting something of her own.
Mrs. Fletcher gave her leave to carry to the cottage a pot with a beautiful geranium, which had been given to her some time before. She placed it on the window where old Justin usually sat, who had the pleasure (though he could not see its beauty) of inhaling its delightful perfume, as he sat splitting the straw for Louis's work.
Louis would never part with his water-pails, which were always placed in a conspicuous part of the cottage, "for these," he said, "first introduced me to the notice of my dear friends." And when, with a heart overflowing with joy, he has expressed his gratitude, Mrs. Fletcher would often answer, "remember, Louis, this was the reward of industry."
When Mrs. Dormer had finished the tale, she said to her son, "William, do you like this story? or do you prefer to hear about giants, and dwarfs, and fairies?"
William looked very thoughtful for some time: at last he said, "no, mamma, this is certainly the best; for it seems more like the truth, I dare say all these things really happened; while you know even little Louis would laugh at me if I really believed there ever were such creatures as fairies."
"Ah, William," said Mary, "but there are some very beautiful stories about fairies. Do not you remember the story in verse which mamma read to us some time ago? It began thus:
"In Britain's isle, and Arthur's days,
When midnight fairies danced the maze."
"Oh yes, Mary, I remember, and I wish mamma would read us some more tales like that."
"I must find them first, Willy," said Mrs. Dormer, "for that tale stands alone in the English language: I do not remember another that equals it in beauty. But you must be content with hearing the adventures of children like yourselves, for my stock of fairy lore is almost exhausted."
"What is the name, dear aunt, of the next story you mean to read us," asked Kate, "for I peeped into your desk when you took the last out, and I saw that you had a good many more left."
"That will depend on circumstances, my love," replied Mrs. Dormer. "I do not know which I shall read first. But I will tell you what you will like better; and that is, our friends Mr. and Mrs. Matthews have sent an invitation for you all to spend to-morrow afternoon with them. We shall have a delightful walk across the heath; and you, William, will see your little friends—for George and Edward have come home for the holidays."
This news gave great delight to the little Dormers, and they spent the evening anticipating the pleasure of the morrow, and in hoping and wishing for a fine day.
William's eyes were opened by six the next morning; he ran to the chamber where his sister and cousin slept, and tapping at the door, asked them if they would get up, as it was a fine morning, and study their lessons in the garden before breakfast, and then they would be done very early when their mamma was teaching them. This proposal was perfectly agreeable to the little girls; who, after dressing themselves and saying their prayers, went into the garden, and with lively spirits enjoyed the delicious freshness of a lovely summer's morning. Here they walked up and down, studying very diligently till they had their lessons by heart, and already looked forward to the pleasure of their mamma's praise.
All this was very well, and they walked some time very soberly, till little Louis came into the garden, saying he had some very hard words to learn, and intreating his sister Mary to pronounce them for him. Mary very good-naturedly complied, and sat down on the seat under the fir tree to con them over with him.
Kate and William, though good children were sometimes inclined to be giddy, and this morning they were in such high spirits, that they were more careless than usual. Unfortunately, chance led their steps towards the poultry-yard, which was separated from the garden by some pales and a wicket. They opened the gate and passed through, to look at some nice broods of ducks that were just hatched. Kate stood several minutes admiring the soft yellow ducklings, and did not notice what William was doing, till he called her to partake in some sport which he thought very delightful. He had laid a plank (left there by accident) across a small dirty pond, dug for the convenience of the ducks, and was racing backwards and forwards so cheerfully on this board, that giddy little Kate thought she must follow his example. After they had amused themselves for some time with this diversion, William took it into his head to jump from the plank across the pond, and as it was a very little distance, he did it easily. Kate endeavoured to follow, but as she was not used to leaping, it is no great wonder that she plumped up to her waist in the dirty water. They both shrieked in concert for help; and the gardener being fortunately near the spot, soon pulled Miss Kate out of the mud, and carried her in his arms to the house. In their way they met Mary and Louis, who had been alarmed by the cries of Kate: Mary was terribly frightened at seeing the water stream from her cousin's clothes; she ran to her mother's door, crying, "pray, mamma, come quickly, for I fear that Kate is drowned."
Mrs. Dormer was much astonished, for she did not think Kate could get at any water sufficient to drown herself. However, she hastened to the children's room, where she beheld the weeping Kate, with the house-maid busily employed in taking off her wet clothes. Mrs. Dormer's first care was to hurry the imprudent child to bed, and cover her up warm, while her clean clothes were airing. She then demanded the particulars of the disaster; and, on hearing the whole affair, could hardly help laughing. However, she comforted the weeping girl by saying, if she had not taken cold there was no great harm done, and, promising to send her up some warm tea, she retired; whilst Kate was greatly troubled for fear she should be made to lay in bed all the day.
When Mrs. Dormer entered the parlour, she perceived William, looking much like a culprit.
"So, Sir," said his mother, "it was you who led your cousin into this mischief."
"It was, dear mamma, but I am very, very sorrow," answered William.
"Consider," said Mrs. Dormer, "the delicate state of your cousin's health, and how fatal such an accident might have been if her wet clothes had not been taken off directly. I do not think she will be ill as it is, but hope she will be able to go to Mrs. Matthews's this afternoon.
"I suppose, mamma," said William, "as I have been so bad a boy, I am not to go?"
"You well know," said his mother, "that I never punish an act of carelessness as I do any thing criminal, therefore I shall trust to your own good disposition, that you will not err in a like manner for the future."
William kissed the hand of his kind mamma, and said, "I did indeed think of Sidney's jumping into the ditch, just as Kate fell into the pond: but you know, mamma, that was too late. We should have thought on it before we played such a foolish trick."
After Mrs. Dormer had done breakfast she went up and dressed Kate, who had taken no hurt. The children finished their lessons very soon: and Mrs. Dormer told them there was time for a good deal of play before dinner. "I think," added she, "I can answer for Kate's keeping out of the duck-pond."
On hearing this remark Kate hung down her head, and looked very foolish—at last she said, "I would rather not go out, aunt. If you would read us a story I should like much better to sit still and hear it."
Mrs. Dormer smiled, and unlocking her writing-desk, selected from among her papers the tale of