ON PRESENCE OF MIND.
Mrs. F. one day having occasion to be blooded, sent for a surgeon. As soon as he entered the room, her young daughter, Eliza, started up, and was hastily going away, when her mother called her back.
Mrs. F. Eliza, do not go, I want you to stay by me.
Eliz. Dear mamma! I can never bear to see you blooded.
Mrs. F. Why not? what harm will it do you?
Eliz. O dear! I cannot look at blood. Besides, I cannot bear to see you hurt, mamma!
Mrs. F. Oh, if I can bear to feel it, surely you may to see it. But, come—you must stay, and we will talk about it afterward.
Eliza, then, pale and trembling, stood by her mother and saw the whole operation. She could not help, however, turning her head away when the incision was made, and the first flow of blood made her start and shudder. When all was over, and the surgeon gone, Mrs. F. began.
Mrs. F. Well, Eliza, what do you think of the mighty matter now? Would it not have been very foolish to have run away from it?
Eliz. O mamma! how frightened I was when he took out his lancet. Did it not hurt you a great deal?