“I know he often teases you, my love; for boys are very fond of teasing their little sisters; but yet I think you should not be very glad when he is reproved, because he is really good natured, and willing to do any thing for you that you want.”
“So he is, poor fellow,” said Phebe; “and I did not particularly wish him to be reproved, only I was afraid that he would spoil my doll. But let us say something more about going to Mrs. Mason’s, Mamma.—I dare say I shall sit up to supper every night; and I shall most likely sleep in a room all by myself, instead of in the nursery: and every thing will be a great deal more pleasant than it is here.”
“Why, really Phebe,” said her Mamma, “if a little girl who lives in a comfortable house, with a kind Papa and Mamma, and several good brothers and sisters, and a great many playthings, finds so much to be discontented with, I cannot promise that she will find every thing just as she would wish it, even at Mrs. Mason’s.”
“I am not very discontented, Mamma,” said Phebe; “only I think there are a few things that I would alter if I were a woman and could do exactly as I liked.”
“I never yet heard of a woman who could do exactly as she liked, Phebe; and I am afraid that, when you are a woman, you will always find somebody to tease you, even though William should live a great many miles away; and though you should then have no Papa and Mamma, “to make you do a great many tiresome jobs when you want to play”; or rather I mean, Phebe, that those who are apt to be fretful and discontented about very little things, will always have a great many little things to fret about.”
Phebe could never think of the time when she should have no Papa and Mamma, without feeling the tears come into her eyes, for she loved her parents dearly, and if ever she felt unwilling to leave off playing when her Mother called her, she had only to think, how very—very sorry she should be when that time came, to recollect that her Mamma had ever found her in the least disobedient or unkind; and then she left off and went cheerfully, even though she were at play ever so prettily.
“However, Mamma,” said Phebe, who wished to continue the conversation; “I cannot think of any thing that is likely to make me at all uncomfortable while I am at Mrs. Mason’s.”
“Then I hope you will be quite happy all the time, my love; and remember, when you return, I shall ask you whether you have or not.”
“O do, Mamma; pray do not forget it;” said Phebe, “who thought that, for once, her Mamma would certainly be mistaken.”
Phebe’s Mamma was quite right in telling her that she would find many things at Mrs. Mason’s different from what she had been used to at home; for Phebe’s parents lived in a handsome red brick house, in the middle of a large town: there was a garden behind the house, but it was not very large, and there were high brick walls all round it; and then they had to walk through several smoky streets before they could get into the pretty green fields, and feel the sweet fresh air blowing on them.—But Mr. Mason’s was a cheerful looking white house, standing in the midst of the fields; with a great many tall trees about it, and a farm yard in sight of one of the windows, where there were cows, and pigs, and ducks, and geese, and a number of things that were all quite new to Phebe.—Mr. and Mrs. Mason, too, were plain elderly people, not at all like Phebe’s Papa and Mamma; but they were very pleasant people, and Phebe had often heard her parents say that they had a great respect for them. They had no family of their own; but they were very fond of children; Mrs. Mason, particularly, was extremely good-natured to them, and was sure to laugh at every thing they said.