Let us trust that perfection each effort shall bless,
As industry ever is crown’d with success:
Tho’ hard is the task, yet ’tis great to aspire,
And the deep-buried embers of genius to fire.
’Tis a laudable aim, when we seek to excel,
And conquer that sloth which is apt to rebel:
Then let us attentive each precept obey,
And snatch the proud laurels of glory away.
The business of the day being concluded, the good mother Trusty shut up the house; and taking me down from the shelf, put me carefully in her pocket. We were not long before we arrived at her habitation, which consisted of two neat little rooms, in a small house, about the middle of a very pleasant lane, A clean looking boy and girl were sitting at the door, with a coloured apron full of peas, which they were very busily shelling. They expressed great pleasure at the sight of Mrs. Trusty, whom I found to be their grandmother, and with much good-humour, told her they had each earned a halfpenny; for that Mrs. Traffick at the chandler’s shop, had given them one penny, and promised them a farthing’s worth of gingerbread, or a stale roll, for getting her peas ready for supper. “Well, and I have brought you home something,” replied Mrs. Trusty, unfolding me to the child, who eagerly getting up to receive her present, had nearly overset the apron and its contents; but her brother luckily caught it, so as to prevent the peas from falling into the dirt. “But pray, Jenny stay till you have done, and have washed your hands,” said her grandmother; “for it would be a pity to spoil this nice sattin Pincushion:”