LESSONS.
The firſt book of a ſeries which I intended to have written for my unfortunate girl[175-A].
LESSON I.
Cat. Dog. Cow. Horſe. Sheep. Pig. Bird. Fly.
Man. Boy. Girl. Child.
Head. Hair. Face. Noſe. Mouth. Chin. Neck. Arms. Hand. Leg. Foot. Back. Breaſt.
Houſe. Wall. Field. Street. Stone. Graſs.
Bed. Chair. Door. Pot. Spoon. Knife. Fork. Plate. Cup. Box. Boy. Bell.
Tree. Leaf. Stick. Whip. Cart. Coach.
Frock. Hat. Coat. Shoes. Shift. Cap.
Bread. Milk. Tea. Meat. Drink. Cake.
LESSON II.
Come. Walk. Run. Go. Jump. Dance. Ride. Sit. Stand. Play. Hold. Shake. Speak. Sing. Cry. Laugh. Call. Fall.
Day. Night. Sun. Moon. Light. Dark. Sleep. Wake.
Waſh. Dreſs. Kiſs. Comb.
Fire. Hot. Burn. Wind. Rain. Cold.
Hurt. Tear. Break. Spill.
Book. See. Look.
Sweet. Good. Clean.
Gone. Loſt. Hide. Keep. Give. Take.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.
White. Black. Red. Blue. Green. Brown.
LESSON III.
STROKE the cat. Play with the Dog. Eat the bread. Drink the milk. Hold the cup. Lay down the knife.
Look at the fly. See the horſe. Shut the door. Bring the chair. Ring the bell. Get your book.
Hide your face. Wipe your noſe. Waſh your hands. Dirty hands. Why do you cry? A clean mouth. Shake hands. I love you. Kiſs me now. Good girl.
The bird ſings. The fire burns. The cat jumps. The dog runs. The bird flies. The cow lies down. The man laughs. The child cries.
LESSON IV.
LET me comb your head. Aſk Betty to waſh your face. Go and ſee for ſome bread. Drink milk, if you are dry. Play on the floor with the ball. Do not touch the ink; you will black your hands.
What do you want to ſay to me? Speak ſlow, not ſo faſt. Did you fall? You will not cry, not you; the baby cries. Will you walk in the fields?
LESSON V.
COME to me, my little girl. Are you tired of playing? Yes. Sit down and reſt yourſelf, while I talk to you.
Have you ſeen the baby? Poor little thing. O here it comes. Look at him. How helpleſs he is. Four years ago you were as feeble as this very little boy.
See, he cannot hold up his head. He is forced to lie on his back, if his mamma do not turn him to the right or left ſide, he will ſoon begin to cry. He cries to tell her, that he is tired with lying on his back.
LESSON VI.
PERHAPS he is hungry. What ſhall we give him to eat? Poor fellow, he cannot eat. Look in his mouth, he has no teeth.
How did you do when you were a baby like him? You cannot tell. Do you want to know? Look then at the dog, with her pretty puppy. You could not help yourſelf as well as the puppy. You could only open your mouth, when you were lying, like William, on my knee. So I put you to my breaſt, and you ſucked, as the puppy ſucks now, for there was milk enough for you.
LESSON VII.
WHEN you were hungry, you began to cry, becauſe you could not ſpeak. You were ſeven months without teeth, always ſucking. But after you got one, you began to gnaw a cruſt of bread. It was not long before another came pop. At ten months you had four pretty white teeth, and you uſed to bite me. Poor mamma! Still I did not cry, becauſe I am not a child, but you hurt me very much. So I ſaid to papa, it is time the little girl ſhould eat. She is not naughty, yet ſhe hurts me. I have given her a cruſt of bread, and I muſt look for ſome other milk.
The cow has got plenty, and her jumping calf eats graſs very well. He has got more teeth than my little girl. Yes, ſays papa, and he tapped you on the cheek, you are old enough to learn to eat? Come to me, and I will teach you, my little dear, for you muſt not hurt poor mamma, who has given you her milk, when you could not take any thing elſe.
LESSON VIII.
YOU were then on the carpet, for you could not walk well. So when you were in a hurry, you uſed to run quick, quick, quick, on your hands and feet, like the dog.
Away you ran to papa, and putting both your arms round his leg, for your hands were not big enough, you looked up at him, and laughed. What did this laugh ſay, when you could not ſpeak? Cannot you gueſs by what you now ſay to papa?—Ah! it was, Play with me, papa!—play with me!
Papa began to ſmile, and you knew that the ſmile was always—Yes. So you got a ball, and papa threw it along the floor—Roll—roll—roll; and you ran after it again—and again. How pleaſed you were. Look at William, he ſmiles; but you could laugh loud—Ha! ha! ha!—Papa laughed louder than the little girl, and rolled the ball ſtill faſter.
Then he put the ball on a chair, and you were forced to take hold of the back, and ſtand up to reach it. At laſt you reached too far, and down you fell: not indeed on your face, becauſe you put out your hands. You were not much hurt; but the palms of your hands ſmarted with the pain, and you began to cry, like a little child.
It is only very little children who cry when they are hurt; and it is to tell their mamma, that ſomething is the matter with them. Now you can come to me, and ſay, Mamma, I have hurt myſelf. Pray rub my hand: it ſmarts. Put ſomething on it, to make it well. A piece of rag, to ſtop the blood. You are not afraid of a little blood—not you. You ſcratched your arm with a pin: it bled a little; but it did you no harm. See, the ſkin is grown over it again.
LESSON IX.
TAKE care not to put pins in your mouth, becauſe they will ſtick in your throat, and give you pain. Oh! you cannot think what pain a pin would give you in your throat, ſhould it remain there: but, if you by chance ſwallow it, I ſhould be obliged to give you, every morning, ſomething bitter to drink. You never taſted any thing ſo bitter! and you would grow very ſick. I never put pins in my mouth; but I am older than you, and know how to take care of myſelf.
My mamma took care of me, when I was a little girl, like you. She bade me never put any thing in my mouth, without aſking her what it was.
When you were a baby, with no more ſenſe than William, you put every thing in your mouth to gnaw, to help your teeth to cut through the ſkin. Look at the puppy, how he bites that piece of wood. William preſſes his gums againſt my finger. Poor boy! he is ſo young, he does not know what he is doing. When you bite any thing, it is becauſe you are hungry.
LESSON X.
SEE how much taller you are than William. In four years you have learned to eat, to walk, to talk. Why do you ſmile? You can do much more, you think: you can waſh your hands and face. Very well. I ſhould never kiſs a dirty face. And you can comb your head with the pretty comb you always put by in your own drawer. To be ſure, you do all this to be ready to take a walk with me. You would be obliged to ſtay at home, if you could not comb your own hair. Betty is buſy getting the dinner ready, and only bruſhes William's hair, becauſe he cannot do it for himſelf.
Betty is making an apple-pye. You love an apple-pye; but I do not bid you make one. Your hands are not ſtrong enough to mix the butter and flour together; and you muſt not try to pare the apples, becauſe you cannot manage a great knife.
Never touch the large knives: they are very ſharp, and you might cut your finger to the bone. You are a little girl, and ought to have a little knife. When you are as tall as I am, you ſhall have a knife as large as mine; and when you are as ſtrong as I am, and have learned to manage it, you will not hurt yourſelf.
You can trundle a hoop, you ſay; and jump over a ſtick. O, I forgot!—and march like the men in the red coats, when papa plays a pretty tune on the fiddle.
LESSON XI.
WHAT, you think that you ſhall ſoon be able to dreſs yourſelf entirely? I am glad of it: I have ſomething elſe to do. You may go, and look for your frock in the drawer; but I will tie it, till you are ſtronger. Betty will tie it, when I am buſy.
I button my gown myſelf: I do not want a maid to aſſiſt me, when I am dreſſing. But you have not yet got ſenſe enough to do it properly, and muſt beg ſomebody to help you, till you are older.
Children grow older and wiſer at the ſame time. William is not able to take a piece of meat, becauſe he has not got the ſenſe which would make him think that, without teeth, meat would do him harm. He cannot tell what is good for him.
The ſenſe of children grows with them. You know much more than William, now you walk alone, and talk; but you do not know as much as the boys and girls you ſee playing yonder, who are half as tall again as you; and they do not know half as much as their fathers and mothers, who are men and women grown. Papa and I were children, like you; and men and women took care of us. I carry William, becauſe he is too weak to walk. I lift you over a ſtile, and over the gutter, when you cannot jump over it.
You know already, that potatoes will not do you any harm: but I muſt pluck the fruit for you, till you are wiſe enough to know the ripe apples and pears. The hard ones would make you ſick, and then you muſt take phyſic. You do not love phyſic: I do not love it any more than you. But I have more ſenſe than you; therefore I take care not to eat unripe fruit, or any thing elſe that would make my ſtomach ache, or bring out ugly red ſpots on my face.
When I was a child, my mamma choſe the fruit for me, to prevent my making myſelf ſick. I was juſt like you; I uſed to aſk for what I ſaw, without knowing whether it was good or bad. Now I have lived a long time, I know what is good; I do not want any body to tell me.
LESSON XII.
LOOK at thoſe two dogs. The old one brings the ball to me in a moment; the young one does not know how. He muſt be taught.
I can cut your ſhift in a proper ſhape. You would not know how to begin. You would ſpoil it; but you will learn.
John digs in the garden, and knows when to put the ſeed in the ground. You cannot tell whether it ſhould be in the winter or ſummer. Try to find it out. When do the trees put out their leaves? In the ſpring, you ſay, after the cold weather. Fruit would not grow ripe without very warm weather. Now I am ſure you can gueſs why the ſummer is the ſeaſon for fruit.
Papa knows that peas and beans are good for us to eat with our meat. You are glad when you ſee them; but if he did not think for you, and have the ſeed put in the ground, we ſhould have no peas or beans.
LESSON XIII.
POOR child, ſhe cannot do much for herſelf. When I let her do any thing for me, it is to pleaſe her: for I could do it better myſelf.
Oh! the poor puppy has tumbled off the ſtool. Run and ſtroak him. Put a little milk in a ſaucer to comfort him. You have more ſenſe than he. You can pour the milk into the ſaucer without ſpilling it. He would cry for a day with hunger, without being able to get it. You are wiſer than the dog, you muſt help him. The dog will love you for it, and run after you. I feed you and take care of you: you love me and follow me for it.
When the book fell down on your foot, it gave you great pain. The poor dog felt the ſame pain juſt now.
Take care not to hurt him when you play with him. And every morning leave a little milk in your baſon for him. Do not forget to put the baſon in a corner, leſt ſomebody ſhould fall over it.
When the ſnow covers the ground, ſave the crumbs of bread for the birds. In the ſummer they find feed enough, and do not want you to think about them.
I make broth for the poor man who is ſick. A ſick man is like a child, he cannot help himſelf.
LESSON X.
WHEN I caught cold ſome time ago, I had ſuch a pain in my head, I could ſcarcely hold it up. Papa opened the door very ſoftly, becauſe he loves me. You love me, yet you made a noiſe. You had not the ſenſe to know that it made my head worſe, till papa told you.
Papa had a pain in the ſtomach, and he would not eat the fine cherries or grapes on the table. When I brought him a cup of camomile tea, he drank it without ſaying a word, or making an ugly face. He knows that I love him, and that I would not give him any thing to drink that has a bad taſte, if it were not to do him good.
You aſked me for ſome apples when your ſtomach ached; but I was not angry with you. If you had been as wiſe as papa, you would have ſaid, I will not eat the apples to-day, I muſt take ſome camomile tea.
You ſay that you do not know how to think. Yes; you do a little. The other day papa was tired; he had been walking about all the morning. After dinner he fell aſleep on the ſopha. I did not bid you be quiet; but you thought of what papa ſaid to you, when my head ached. This made you think that you ought not to make a noiſe, when papa was reſting himſelf. So you came to me, and ſaid to me, very ſoftly, Pray reach me my ball, and I will go and play in the garden, till papa wakes.
You were going out; but thinking again, you came back to me on your tip-toes. Whiſper——whiſper. Pray mama, call me, when papa wakes; for I ſhall be afraid to open the door to ſee, leſt I ſhould diſturb him.
Away you went.—Creep—creep—and ſhut the door as ſoftly as I could have done myſelf.
That was thinking. When a child does wrong at firſt, ſhe does not know any better. But, after ſhe has been told that ſhe muſt not diſturb mama, when poor mama is unwell, ſhe thinks herſelf, that ſhe muſt not wake papa when he is tired.
Another day we will ſee if you can think about any thing elſe.
THE END.
FOOTNOTES:
[175-A] This title which is indorſed on the back of the manuſcript, I conclude to have been written in a period of deſperation, in the month of October, 1795.
editor.
