Phœbe could not help quoting the old lines, ‘He prayeth well that loveth well both man and bird and beast.’
‘Yes, and some persons have a curious affinity with the gentle and good in creation—who can watch and even handle a bird’s nest without making it be deserted, whom bees do not sting, and horses, dogs, and cats love so as to reveal their best instincts in a way that seems fabulous. In spite of the Lyra Innocentium, I think this is less often the case with children than with such grown people as—like your guardian, Phœbe—have kept something of the majesty and calmness of innocence.’
Phœbe was all in a glow with the pleasure of hearing him so called, but bashful under that very delight, she said, ‘Perhaps part of Solomon’s wisdom was in loving these things, since he knew the plants from the cedar to the hyssop.’
‘And spoke of Nature so beautifully in his Song, but I am afraid as he grew old he must have lost his healthful pleasure in them when he was lifted up.’
‘Or did he only make them learning and ornament, instead of a joy and devotion?’ said Phœbe, thinking of the difference between Bertha’s love and Miss Charlecote’s.
‘Nor does he say that he found vanity in them, though he did in his own gardens and pools of water. No, the longer I live, the more sure I am that these things are meant for our solace and minor help through the trials of life. I assure you, Phœbe, that the crimson leaf of a Herb-Robert in the hedge has broken a strain of fretful repining, and it is one great blessing in these pleasures that one never can exhaust them.’
Phœbe saw that Miss Charlecote was right in her own case, when on coming in, the grasshopper’s name and history were sought, and there followed an exhibition of the ‘puss’ for whom the willow had been gathered, namely a grass-green caterpillar, with a kitten’s face, a curious upright head and shoulders, and two purple tails, whence on irritation two pink filaments
protruded,—lashes for the ichneumons, as Honora explained. The lonely woman’s interest in her quaint pet showed how thickly are strewn round us many a calm and innocent mode of solace and cheerfulness if we knew but how to avail ourselves of it.
Honora had allowed the conversation to be thus desultory and indifferent, thinking that it gave greater rest to Phœbe, and it was not till the evening was advancing, that she began to discharge herself of an urgent commission from Robert, by saying, ‘Phœbe, I want you to do something for me. There is that little dame’s school in your hamlet. It is too far off for me to look after, I wish you would.’
‘Robin has been writing to me about parish work,’ said Phœbe, sadly. ‘Perhaps I ought, but I don’t know how, and I can’t bear that any change in our ways should be observed;’ and the tears came more speedily than Honor had expected.