After the Story
"Primrose," asked Eustace, pinching her ear, "how do you like my little Pandora? Don't you think her the exact picture of yourself? But you would not have hesitated half so long about opening the box."
"Then I should have been well punished for my naughtiness," retorted Primrose, smartly; "for the first thing to pop out, after the lid was lifted, would have been Mr. Eustace Bright, in the shape of a Trouble."
"Cousin Eustace," said Sweet Fern, "did the box hold all the trouble that has ever come into the world?"
"Every mite of it!" answered Eustace. "This very snow-storm, which has spoiled my skating, was packed up there."
"And how big was the box?" asked Sweet Fern.
"Why, perhaps three feet long," said Eustace, "two feet wide, and two feet and a half high."
"Ah," said the child, "you are making fun of me, Cousin Eustace! I know there is not trouble enough in the world to fill such a great box as that. As for the snow-storm, it is no trouble at all, but a pleasure; so it could not have been in the box."
"Hear the child!" cried Primrose, with an air of superiority. "How little he knows about the troubles of this world! Poor fellow! He will be wiser when he has seen as much of life as I have."
So saying, she began to skip the rope.