"Remember my wax doll," said Louisa, "which you left in the garden through that heavy shower of rain, so that I could never play with it again."
"O, that was such a very long time ago!" said Emma, looking a little vexed.
"Perhaps it will not be a writing-desk nor a work-box that aunt Harding will give us," said Louisa; "there are many other things which we should like. I wish she would ask us to choose."
"So do I," added Emma; "but there is nothing that I should like better than a work-box."
Louisa thought of many other things which she should be glad to have; for she was apt to indulge in a foolish habit of wishing for what she was not likely to possess. It is a bad thing to give way to this failing; for by doing so we may often make ourselves unhappy, without any good or real cause. People who do so should think of the words of St. Paul: "I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content." Philip. iv, 11. And children, who have kind parents or friends to provide for all their wants, should learn that it is very sinful to let the thoughts be often dwelling upon things that they cannot have, and do not really need. Pray for a grateful heart, that you may rejoice in the blessings that surround you, and be thankful to your heavenly Father, who gives you all things richly to enjoy.
CHAPTER II: THE PRESENTS.
Mrs. Harding, the aunt of these little girls, had been paying a farewell visit to their mamma, before going with Mr. Harding to India, where it was likely that they would remain for some years. She had kindly given many little presents to her nieces during her stay with them; but they were such as Louisa and Emma would cease to value when they became old enough to "put away childish things;" and being a person of piety and judgment, she wished her last gift to be one which might be worthy of their regard in youth and in age, and through all the changes of life. It did not take any long time to determine what this parting gift should be.
The evening before she went away, she called Louisa and Emma into the room. They both looked round upon the table and chests of drawers, but no sign of a present was to be seen; no parcel neatly wrapped up in brown paper, nor anything like a work-box or a desk. But, to do them justice, the thought of what they might receive was not then uppermost in their mind; for their heart was full of grief at the prospect of parting with their aunt, whom they dearly loved, and who was going so very far away.
"Sit down beside me, dear children," said their aunt Harding, "and let us have a little talk together, quietly by ourselves. I wish to give you a few parting words of advice. I am sure that you will not forget me when I am gone; and when you think of me, I hope that the good things which I have tried to teach you will also come into your mind."
Both Louisa and Emma said, again and again, that they could never forget her, and they promised to remember her advice.