“But do you not see, my darlings,” she said, seriously, “that it only proves the glorious wisdom of Our Saviour’s golden rule? Whenever you are tempted to play a trick, or say a sharp thing, just stop one moment, and ask yourself, ‘Would I like to have this done or said to me?’ If you ask yourself this question honestly, the little monitor which God has placed in all your hearts, will answer you so faithfully and kindly, that you would be very naughty children not to listen to its whisperings.
“And now let me tell you the true definition of politeness. It is ‘real kindness kindly expressed.’ Don’t forget this. Put this definition in your pop-guns, and fire it off as often as you can, and, my word for it, everybody you shoot will come to love you dearly. For my part, I should like to dine off such shots, red-hot, every day of my life. And so good night, little Pop-gun youngsters, and pleasant dreams to you all.”
“Ah, dear Aunt Fanny! please stay a little minute longer,” cried all the children, running to kiss her. “It’s so very early.”
“Well, I believe I will stay just long enough to ask your advice about something.”
“Oh dear, yes! Ask away. We love to give advice.” And the six children immediately tried to look as wise as twelve large owls, or as Governor Wise of Virginia, who, they said, kept it all in his name, and nowhere else; while Aunt Fanny, with a very grave face, proceeded to observe—
“This story finishes the first volume of ‘Pop-Guns.’ Do you think it will do to go with ‘Nightcaps’ and the rest? or do you advise me to burn it up?”
“Burn it up!” screamed the children, running again to her and kissing her. “No, no, no; pray, don’t. Have them printed, and we will read them twenty times, and play the ‘Family Coach’ too! Let’s play Family Coach now.”
And so they did; though, as there were only ten of them, Sophie had to be all the four horses, Kitty the coachman, footman, and old lady; while mamma, papa, Aunt Fanny, and the rest, were all sorts of things at once. But they had great fun, and were perfectly wornout with laughing, particularly when little Bob had to twirl round, which he always did in such a desperate hurry, that he tumbled over his own legs, and upset himself every time.
And, after that, the forfeits were enchanting; for Aunt Fanny knew a great many funny ones; and Fred said he did “wish Aunt Fanny was a ‘real true child,’ so they could have her to play with them the whole time;” which speech, she declared, was the very finest compliment she had ever received; and Uncle Fanny (that’s Aunt Fanny’s husband) said—