Henry's garden was beautiful; there was not the smallest bit of it but had some pretty flower or fruit-tree growing in it: every part was blooming and sweet; and his two brothers discovered, when too late, that without perseverance and steadiness, nothing can be accomplished, and that unless they came to a determination to follow the good example their brother Henry set before them on this occasion, as on all others, their minds would, like their garden, be uncultivated and waste.
THE WHIMSICAL CHILD.
Mr. and Mrs. Clermont invited their little niece, Elizabeth Sinclair, to spend a month with them in the country. Mr. Clermont was extremely fond of children, but his partiality to their company never extended to any who had been improperly and foolishly indulged, and were whimsical and discontented; and had he known that his sister had suffered her little girl to have those disagreeable qualities, he never would have asked her to his house; but he had been two years abroad, and knew nothing of her.
The day on which she was expected, her uncle and aunt went to meet her, and were very much pleased with her appearance, as well as the affectionate manner in which she returned the caresses they bestowed upon her. She was extremely pretty, had fine teeth, fine hair, and a beautiful complexion; and Mr. Clermont said to his wife, "I shall be delighted to have this sweet little creature with me, and to shew all my friends what a charming niece I have." But he was not long in changing his opinion, and very soon discovered that her beauty, much as he had thought of it, did not prevent her being the most disagreeable girl he had ever met with.
She was no sooner in the house than she complained of being too warm, then too cold, and a minute after, too warm again—too tired to sit up, yet not choosing to go to bed—wishing for some tea, and then not liking any thing but milk and water—now drinking it without sugar, then desiring to have some, and, after saying she never supped, bursting into tears because she was going to be sent to bed without supper.
"I perceive I was mistaken," said Mr. Clermont; "this sweet little creature will be a pretty torment to us, if we permit her to have her own way; but I shall put a stop to it immediately."
Accordingly, the next day at dinner, he asked her if she would be helped to some mutton, but she refused it, saying she never could eat any thing roasted. "Then, my dear," replied Mr. Clermont, "here is a boiled potatoe for you; eat that, for you will have nothing else."
Elizabeth was extremely disconcerted, and thought, if she had been at home, her mamma would have ordered half a dozen different things for her, rather than suffer her to eat any thing she disliked, or to dine upon potatoes. She made a very bad dinner, and was cross and out of humour the whole evening.
The next day at table Mr. Clermont offered to help her to some boiled lamb; but Elizabeth, according to her usual custom of never liking what was offered to her, said she could not eat lamb when it was boiled. "So I expected," said Mr. Clermont, "and (taking off the cover from a small dish which was placed next to him) here are some roasted potatoes, which I have provided on purpose, fearing you might not happen to like the rest of the dinner."