TUESDAY.
Anne. You see me earlier than usual this morning, dear mamma; but as I know all the geography you desired me to learn quite perfectly, I hope you will give me leave to read another story.
Mrs. Harley. Certainly, my dear: but remember to read very distinctly; make proper pauses; fall your voice at a period, and begin the next sentence in rather a higher tone; aspirate the H, excepting in such words as hour, honour, heiress, and a few others where it is silent: and above all, avoid a monotonous manner of reading, for nothing can be more unpleasant to those who are listening to you, than to hear a tale, however interesting in itself, read on in one continued tone: instead of affording any amusement, it only induces the persons you are reading to, to wish for a cessation of the unpleasant murmuring noise which offends their ears.
Anne. I will attend to what you say, mamma, while I am reading the following story, which is called
The Advantages of Truth.
George Elliot the son of a respectable gentleman, had been paying a visit to his uncle, and on his return home, was accompanied by one of his cousins, who was to spend a few months with him at Hartley, Mr. Elliot's country residence.
George was a boy of a frank and generous disposition, and good abilities; these being cultivated by a careful education, made him at the age of eleven years, a well-informed and agreeable boy. Charles Morden his cousin, was much his inferior in every respect. Accustomed to excessive indulgence, he became fretful and idle, and often entered into mischief, for the sake of having something to do; his parents so plentifully supplied him with play-things, that he was consequently tired of every thing he possessed, and only desirous of what was in expectation; nay, worse, for to obtain any particular gratification, he would not scruple making use of falshood. Such was the boy, now unfortunately the constant companion of George Elliot.
Mr. Elliot indulged his son in every innocent amusement proper for his age, but loved him too well to suffer his faults to pass unnoticed. George had been long anxious for a poney, and as soon as a proper one could be purchased, his father presented it to him, and often allowed him to ride out, either accompanied by himself or a servant, but particularly forbade him from ever mounting any other horse in the stables, telling him at the same time, the many fatal accidents that had occurred, owing to boys attempting to ride horses they were unable to manage. George promised obedience, and had strictly adhered to his word.