“There is no probability of their doing this, Clara. If your uncle should recover, they will return next summer; and though we may have become much attached to your little cousin, and grieve to part with her, I trust we shall not be so selfish as to wish to prolong her separation from her parents.”
“I can teach her a great deal before they come home,” said Clara. “She is nearly two years old now. I might teach her to read before she is three.”
“We will first teach her to talk,” replied her mother; “but we will not teach her to say, ‘I forgot!’”
“No, mother, I will not teach her to say that. I will teach her all that I can that is good, but nothing that is evil.”
“A very good resolution, Clara. And now we will return home, for the air is rather too cool.”
Before I tell my young readers about Mr. Gray’s return with little Ellen, I must introduce them more particularly to Clara; although, from what I have already said concerning her, they may have formed a good idea of her character, and have justly concluded that she is very much like themselves, sometimes trying to do what is right, and suffering herself to be led by the good spirits around her, and at other times somewhat selfish and thoughtless, allowing evil spirits to lead her in the wrong path.
Clara was nearly eleven years old. She was generally obedient to her parents and teachers, kind to her playmates, diligent in her studies, and orderly and industrious in her habits. Still she had some faults. Although obliging in her disposition, and desirous to be useful to those around her, she frequently entirely disregarded their wishes through mere thoughtlessness and inattention. Like most children, she was fond of play, and sometimes allowed her amusements to make her forget to perform her duties.
She was unwilling to believe that this forgetfulness was one form of selfishness; for Clara, like many other persons, believed herself free from this evil, because she was glad to share whatever she had with those who needed it, and was even willing to give up her own pleasure for the sake of being useful to others. I have known her to decline an invitation to a pleasant little party, because her mother was not quite well, and needed her attention; and yet, perhaps, in the course of that same afternoon, she would become so much interested in some book, or favorite amusement, that she would quite forget the object for which she remained at home, and entirely neglect to attend to her mother.
I will relate an instance of Clara’s thoughtlessness, and you will then see that she sometimes gave great trouble to herself and to others, although she very seldom intended to do wrong;—she only forgot to do right.
Very near to Mr. Gray’s there lived a good old woman, whom the children in the neighborhood called aunt Molly. She lived in a small cottage, with a neat little garden in front, containing a few flowers and vegetables, and one large apple-tree. Aunt Molly was quite lame, and always used a crutch in walking. She had one son, about eighteen years of age, who lived with her, and took care of her. During the day he was obliged to be from home to attend to his work, but he took good care to bring wood, and water, and every thing that he thought his mother could want, before he left her; and with the help of her crutch she was able to move about quite briskly, and her little cottage was always in the neatest order. Every child in the neighborhood loved to visit aunt Molly, for she had a kind word for each of them, and often a pleasant story to tell, or a gift of a rosy-cheeked apple or a pretty flower.