Chit-chat, or Short Tales in Short Words

by Maria Elizabeth Budden

The girls were quite hurt at themselves, and began to declare how fond they were of Ruth, and how civil and kind she always was to them. "I quite agree with you, that she deserves your favour; but do not let caprice make you sometimes behave well to her and sometimes ill; a steady system of kindness does more to gain friends than all the ardour and warmth in the world. Nothing is so bad in our intercourse with our fellow-creatures,—nothing so bad as caprice!"

THE VILLAGE SHOP.

Now Blanche was well again; they all walked to Lord Glenmore's, and he kindly gave his promise to employ the poor man in his gardens, or grounds. As they came back, they called in at the village shop, to buy some things for the poor man. The old woman, who kept the shop, came to serve them, and she was wiping her eyes, and could scarcely speak for crying. "What is the matter, dame Hodge?" said the good Aunt, and went up kindly to the poor woman, whilst the two girls staid behind the counter. The old dame sighed, and said her daughter had just left her service, and she was afraid it would be long before she got so good a place again. The Lady said she would inquire among her friends for a place for Belle; and then they proceeded in their walk. The girls talked of the difference between all they saw at Castle Glenmore, and what they saw at the shop. "Yes," said the Aunt, "and you may also observe how little alike is the life of a rich lord and our poor dame. He and his lady have no care, but to please and amuse themselves just as the humour takes them, from morning till night; whilst dame Hodge has, even in old age, to work for her food, and to cook it before she eats it. She must make her bed before she can sleep in it; in short, she must labour before she can possess any one thing. Then again, humble as is her lot, there are others who have a still more lowly fate; for instance, the poor man we have just helped to save from want. How much worse off is he, than our weeping old woman!"—"Aunt," said Kate, "I had been thinking with envy of Miss Glenmore; her toys, her books, her fine dress;—but I shall do so no more; for, oh! how well am I off, when I compare my lot to the poor children we have been clothing."—"You are right, Kate; be grateful for your lot, and reflect, that all have their share of good; what we do not prize is perhaps a joy and a pleasure to those who are below us in life; your old bonnet, you know, was a treasure to the poor man's child."

THE FARM-YARD.

When Kate's Aunt made a promise, she always took care to perform it; and now for many days she looked about to find a place for Belle. At last, she went to a farmer's, where she and the girls were much pleased to see the farmer's wife feeding the pigs. They looked over the rails, and saw the fat grunters feeding away, all in a row, whilst milk and barley were poured into their wooden trough. A farm-yard had many charms for Kate and Blanche:—the cows, lowing amid the clean deep straw, and the young calves standing at their sides;—the sheep feeding on the short sweet grass of the home field, and the pretty lambs skipping and jumping about;—the great mastiff, chained to his house, growling at each stranger;—the threshers, in the barn, threshing out the corn;—the thatcher on the cottage roof mending the thatch: then the pretty garden, full of peas and beans, and leeks, and carrots; with one corner, gay with flowers, such as stocks, and pinks, and roses:—all seemed so pleasant and pretty about the farm, that they were quite glad to hear the farmer's wife say, she wanted a maid, and would be glad to try Belle. "How happy Belle will be in this charming place!"—"That must depend upon herself," said the Aunt. "My dear girls, it does not matter how many blessings fall to our lot, if we do not make the best of them. I agree with you, that Belle has a fair chance of comfort here; she will have much to do, and much to enjoy."—"That you often tell us is the best chance to be happy," said Blanche, "to have much to do, and much to enjoy."—"I can enjoy nothing when I am idle," cried Kate. "Because you have been taught to be busy, Kate," said her Aunt; "and it is perhaps happy for you, that you are forced to employ yourself; your state in life demands it. Those, whose fate does not oblige them to work, are often wretched, because they are idle; this is one of the evils of wealth; so, you see, all states have their evil and their good. Let us be thankful for our share of good; let us be willing to make others the sharers of our blessing. 'To enjoy is to obey.'"

PART III.

THE HAPPY PARTY.

In coming from the farm, they saw a very pretty sight. A lady, who lived in a pleasant cottage in the valley, was seated in her garden playing on a guitar, whilst her three children were dancing before her. In a moment Blanche and Kate had run through the gate to look at them. Their Aunt stopped at the paling, but told them to go on, and join the merry dance. "May we, Aunt?" asked Kate. "Surely, my love; we know these children and their mother well; and it is as much our duty to rejoice with them that rejoice, as to mourn with those who mourn."—"I am mighty glad of that!" said Blanche:—and behold them footing it away on the soft green turf. The Aunt joined the lady, and sang the merry air the latter played; the guitar sounded better, when joined by the voice. The dance was more mirthful when five, instead of three, threaded its mazes. It was a fine summer's eve, cool but dry, balmy and mild: time passed away quickly. After having been pleased and made others pleased, the group parted. The widow, cheered and happy, led her merry little ones into the house. The Aunt, gay and content, walked home with her young charge. "What a pleasant dance we have had!" cried Blanche. "Yes," said Kate, "I am glad we joined the party; we made them joyous, and ourselves so too. I am glad we joined them: are not you, Aunt?"—"Yes, my dear, very glad. Be happy and make happy, is, you know, my merry motto."—"I thought you meant to soothe woe and relieve distress, when you talked of making happy."—"That is one of the modes by which we can dispense gladness, to be sure; but it is not the only one. I am a great friend to harmless mirth; it gladdens the human breast, and opens the heart of man to man. To be cheerful together, is a sure and pleasant way of joining ourselves to our neighbours and friends. He who made the world so smiling, formed us also to be gay."