"No, Ma'am," said Mary, blushing still more deeply: "I have no brother. That is Henry, our neighbour Farmer Wilson's son; and he is always very kind to my grandmother."
By this time, the old woman had reached the cottage door, and was introduced by Mary to her new guests. The young man made a rustic bow and retired.
Mrs. Bernard soon entered into conversation with the old woman, and was not less pleased with her, than she had before been with her grand- daughter. There was an air of cheerful content in her countenance, which bespoke that all was peace within, and prepossessed you more completely in her favour than any words could have done.
After some conversation, the old woman, turning to her grand-daughter, said: "The ladies will perhaps eat an apple, Mary."
Mary instantly left the cottage to gather some; and her grandmother took that opportunity of passing upon the good girl, a well-merited eulogium. "She is my greatest comfort, Madam," said she; "and I may truly say. from the day she was born, she never willingly gave me a single moment's uneasiness. To be sure, I do feel very anxious about her at times; particularly since she and Henry have taken such a fancy to each other. Times are so hard, Ma'am, and money so scarce, that I dare not consent to their marrying. And yet it grieves me to the heart to keep them asunder; for he is as good as she herself, and almost as dear to me."
Mrs. Bernard enquired what means Henry had of supporting a wife, and found he was the younger son of a small farmer in the neighbourhood, who had a large family to establish in the world, and very little to accomplish it with.
Mary's return at this moment, with a basket of fresh-gathered apples, interrupted the conversation; and the children, after regaling themselves with her little offering, took their leave, and, accompanied by their mother, bent their steps towards home.
Ferdinand, who was a child of great observation, seldom proceeded far without discovering some object to interest his attention. He had remained a considerable distance behind his mother, exploring the hedges for some new flower or insect that he had not before examined, when his attention was attracted by a wasp, which, having seized a fly almost as large as himself, was endeavouring to carry the prize to his nest; but the wind blowing in a contrary direction, acted so forcibly upon the extended wings of the fly, that the poor wasp, with all his efforts, could make no progress. Ferdinand was anxious to see how he would act in this difficulty, and called his mother and sisters, to smile with them at the insect's perplexity. In a few minutes, the wasp alighted upon the ground, and, with the most persevering industry, sawed off, with his teeth, the two wings of the fly, and then flew away with the body, in triump, to his young ones.
"Well done, wasp," cried Ferdinand; "you do deserve that meal, however. But is it not a wonderful instance of sagacity, mamma? Who would expect it in an insect! Do you suppose it knew this by instinct?"
"We are led to believe, my love," repied Mrs. Bernard, "that man alone acts by the higher principle of reason; but I have met with many instances of sagacity in the brute creation, which almost puzzle me, when I ascribe their actions merely to instinct: