"Dear, dear! Which jug was it?"
"It was a yellow one with blue flowers on it."
"Oh, that one!" and Mrs. Rowles's face cleared. "If it was only that old one with the broken spout and the cracked handle I really don't care a bit."
"I am always so unlucky with crockery," said Juliet. "I've broke enough in my time to pave Cheapside—jugs and cups and basins."
"Oh, child!" said her aunt, shocked at the exaggeration.
"That's what the people in our house used to say every time I broke anything. I'm always unlucky."
"Well, never mind; this time you've been very clever. That yellow jug was horrid ugly, and being shabby at the spout and the handle, I often wished it would get itself broken instead of the pretty new ones. I'm quite glad you've broken it; I think you were very clever to break that one."
So said the kind aunt, hoping to soothe Juliet's sorrow for her awkwardness and carelessness. This sort of praise was quite new to the child. To be praised instead of reproved for her stupidity, to be met with smiles rather than sighs, was something so uncommon that Juliet almost believed that she really had done a clever and useful deed. After a few minutes she quite believed it, and held up her head, taking credit for her breakage which was so clever and so amusing.
Then Mrs. Rowles called Emily and bade her take Juliet to the well and show her how to draw a bucket of water. A loud scream was heard, and Mrs. Rowles's heart almost ceased beating, so fearful was she that one of the children had fallen into the well. She ran out to the back of the house, and saw the two girls standing together with consternation on their faces. It appeared that Juliet had insisted on lowering the bucket by the windlass, and that, by some awkward mi she had let it fall off the hook, and there it lay at the bottom of the well, and there seemed to be no means of getting it back again.
This time Mrs. Rowles could not find any consolation for Juliet on the subject of her stupidity.