Her T A L E.
I went to the Church, said she, as most of you did last Night, to see the Burying, and being very weary, I sate me down in Mr. Jones's Pew, [52]and fell fast asleep. At Eleven of the Clock I awoke; which I believe was in some measure occasioned by the Clock's striking, for I heard it. I started up, and could not at first tell where I was; but after some Time I recollected the Funeral, and soon found that I was shut in the Church. It was dismal dark, and I could see nothing; but while I was standing in the Pew, something jumped up upon me behind, and laid, as I thought, its Hands over my Shoulders.----I own, I was a little afraid at first; however, I considered that I had always been constant at Prayers and at Church, and that I had done nobody any Harm, but had endeavoured to do what Good I could; and then, thought I, what have I to fear? yet I kneeled down to say my Prayers. As soon as I was on my Knees [53]something very cold, as cold as Marble, ay, as cold as Ice, touched my Neck, which made me start; however, I continued my Prayers, and having begged Protection from Almighty GOD, I found my Spirits come, and I was sensible that I had nothing to fear; for GOD Almighty protects not only all those who are good, but also all those who endeavour to be good.----Nothing can withstand the Power, and exceed the Goodness of GOD Almighty. Armed with the Confidence of his Protection, I walked down the Church Isle, when I heard something, pit pat, pit pat, pit pat, come after me, and something touched my Hand, which seemed as cold as a Marble Monument. I could not think what this was, yet I knew it could not hurt me, and therefore I made myself easy, but being very cold, and [54]the Church being paved with Stone, which was very damp, I felt my Way as well as I could to the Pulpit, in doing which something brushed by me, and almost threw me down. However I was not frightened, for I knew, that GOD Almighty would suffer nothing to hurt me.
At last, I found out the Pulpit, and having shut too the Door, I laid me down on the Mat and Cushion to sleep; when something thrust and pulled the Door, as I thought for Admittance, which prevented my going to sleep. At last it cries, Bow, wow, wow; and I concluded it must be Mr. Saunderson 's Dog, which had followed me from their House to Church, so I opened the Door, and called Snip, Snip, and the Dog jumped up upon me immediately. After this Snip and I lay down together, [55]and had a most comfortable Nap; for when I awoke again it was almost light. I then walked up and down all the Isles of the Church to keep myself warm; and though I went into the Vault, and trod on Lady Ducklington's Coffin, I saw no Ghost, and I believe it was owing to the Reason Mr. Long has given you, namely, that there is no such Thing to be seen. As to my Part, I would as soon lie all Night in the Church as in any other Place; and I am sure that any little Boy or Girl, who is good, and loves GOD Almighty, and keeps his Commandments, may as safely lie in the Church, or the Church-yard, as any where else, if they take Care not to get Cold; for I am sure there are no Ghosts, either to hurt, or to frighten them; though any one possessed of Fear [56]might have taken Neighbour Saunderson 's Dog with his cold Nose for a Ghost; and if they had not been undeceived, as I was, would never have thought otherwise. All the Company acknowledged the Justness of the Observation, and thanked Little Two-Shoes for her Advice.
R E F L E C T I O N.
After this, my dear Children, I hope you will not believe any foolish Stories that ignorant, weak, or designing People may tell you about Ghosts; for the Tales of Ghosts, Witches, and Fairies, are the Frolicks of a distempered Brain. No wise Man ever saw either of them. Little Margery you see was not afraid; no, she had good Sense, and a good Conscience, which is a Cure for all these imaginary Evils.
C H A P. VIII.
Of something which happened to Little Two-Shoes
in a Barn, more dreadful than the Ghost in the Church;
and how she returned Good for Evil to her Enemy Sir Timothy.
Some Days after this a more dreadful Accident befel Little Madge. She happened to be coming late from teaching, when it rained, thundered, and lightened, and therefore she took Shelter in a Farmer's Barn [58]at a Distance from the Village. Soon after, the Tempest drove in four Thieves, who, not seeing such a little creep-mouse Girl as Two-Shoes, lay down on the Hay next to her, and began to talk over their Exploits, and to settle Plans for future Robberies. Little Margery on hearing them, covered herself with Straw. To be sure she was sadly frighted, but her good [59]Sense taught her, that the only Security she had was in keeping herself concealed; therefore she laid very still, and breathed very softly. About Four o'Clock these wicked People came to a Resolution to break both Sir William Dove's House, and Sir Timothy Gripe's, and by Force of Arms to carry off all their Money, Plate and Jewels; but as it was thought then too late, they agreed to defer it till the next Night. After laying this Scheme they all set out upon their Pranks, which greatly rejoiced Margery, as it would any other little Girl in her Situation. Early in the Morning she went to Sir William, and told him the whole of their Conversation. Upon which, he asked her Name, gave her Something, and bid her call at his House the Day following. She also went to Sir Timothy [60]notwithstanding he had used her so ill; for she knew it was her Duty to do Good for Evil. As soon as he was informed who she was, he took no Notice of her; upon which she desired to speak to Lady Gripe; and having informed her Ladyship of the Affair, she went her Way. This Lady had more Sense than her Husband, which indeed is not a singular Case; for instead of despising Little Margery and her Information, she privately set People to guard the House. The Robbers divided themselves, and went about the Time mentioned to both Houses, and were surprized by the Guards, and taken. Upon examining these Wretches, one of which turned Evidence, both Sir William and Sir Timothy found that they owed their Lives to the Discovery made by Little Margery, and the first took [61]great Notice of her, and would no longer let her lie in a Barn; but Sir Timothy only said, that he was ashamed to owe his Life to the Daughter of one who was his Enemy; so true it is, that a proud Man seldom forgives those he has injured.