The Fairchild Family

by Mary Martha Sherwood

Betty was not there to tell her story, and Bessy thought it was quite as well to let the affair pass.

Thoughtful people often wonder how giddy ones can be so thoughtless as they are, and giddy ones wonder how their thoughtful friends can attend to so many things as they do. Many persons are naturally thoughtless, but this fault may be repaired by management in childhood. Poor Bessy had had no such careful management; and her carelessness had come to such a pass, that from the time in which she had hung up her wet and spoiled clothes in the closet, she troubled herself about them no more till the time came when she wanted to put them on.

Still, she learned much, as it proved, from the misfortunes of that Sunday. After dinner it began to pour again, and Mrs. Fairchild took Bessy with her own children into a quiet room, and there she read the Bible and talked to them. Having been well used to talk to children and young people, she made all she said so pleasant, that Bessy was quite surprised when Betty knocked at the door and said tea was ready.

The rest of the Sunday evening passed off so very pleasantly that even Bessy yawned only three times, and that was just before supper—and yet it rained—rained—rained.

The next morning rose in great brightness, promising a charming day. The forenoon was spent as usual; and after the lessons and work, Mrs. Goodriche furnished the pin-

cushions and the housewife, and gave out the two pieces of chintz for the dolls' frocks; and so busy were the old lady and the little girls, that it was time to lay the cloth for dinner before the things were quite put away.

Whilst all this business was going on, Bessy was somewhere about in the garden.

Now it was not a very common thing for a loud knock to be heard at Mr. Fairchild's door. But it was Mr. Somers who knocked, and he came in all in a hurry. He came to say that a lady, who lived about two miles distant in another parish, had called. He told the lady's name to Mrs. Fairchild: and Mrs. Fairchild said she knew her, though they had not visited. This lady had a nice house and a pretty orchard; and she had come, only an hour before, to say that Miss Pimlico, with all her young ladies, were coming to spend the evening with her, and that they were to have tea in the open air, and to amuse themselves in any way they liked. The lady hoped that Mr. Somers and his mother would come, and that they would, if possible, bring with them Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild and their nice children, and make a pleasant evening of it.

"We told her that Mrs. Goodriche and her niece were at Mr. Fairchild's," added Mr. Somers; "and she said, 'Let them come also, by all means; the more the merrier;' and then she kindly entered into what carriages we could muster.

"I told her," he continued, "that Mr. Fairchild had a carriage which would hold two grown-up persons and three little ones, and that mine could do as much if needful; proving that we had even one seat to spare—so come, you must all go. Mrs. Goodriche and my mother shall have the back seat of my carriage, and I shall make interest for Miss Lucy to sit by me in the front seat."