Somehow the painful examples appealed to Miss Muffet most, for she was very tender-hearted. There was the little criminal who once stole a pin. Miss Muffet had always understood that a pin was the very worst thing to steal; it had such fearful consequences. The last consequence generally is that one is transported. And there was an example of youthful obstinacy who wouldn't pronounce the letter G. His mother was almost broken-hearted for fear he might take a prejudice against other letters of the alphabet. She sat up three nights with him and spent days trying to make him say G.
"It shows that she was a good mother, doesn't it?" said Miss Muffet.
"It shows that she didn't have to do her own work," replied the Little Old Woman.
A group of very old-fashioned children were talking together in whispers. They were evidently anxious that no older persons should hear them.
"There they are at it again," said the Little Old Woman; "they are Mrs. Opie's children. People don't know them so well now, but they used to be notorious for telling White Lies. I have no doubt that they are doing it now; they are exaggerating."
"What's that?" asked Miss Muffet.
"It's telling how large a thing is before you've measured it."
"But what if you haven't a tape-line with you?"
"Then you should say nothing about it."
"There is Hal," said Miss Muffet; "I know him by the miserable piece of string hanging out of his pocket. Hal cut his string. It was a sin and he suffers for it. His cousin Ben untied his and has it always ready for emergencies. All his emergencies are of that kind; they need a piece of whipcord to bring them out right. I've no doubt but that to-night the coach of one of the very prettiest princesses will break down and Ben will tie it up. It would be just his luck."