Lydia.
But sometimes things happen to tease me, and make me fret.
Mamma.
Then is the time to try to get the better of yourself; things may not always go as you like; but nothing can make you fret unless you will: for example, if little Edwin come in and catch up your book, or your doll, we suppose you had rather he let them alone, but you need not make a great noise, and whine, and call him a naughty boy, and run and snatch them roughly from him; you may speak in a good-humoured tone of voice, and say, Pray, Edwin, give me my book, or any thing else he has; and if he did not attend to that, as he is but a little boy, you could wait quietly a little while, till he laid it down, though you might know you would have liked better to have it then; and that would not be half so uncomfortable to you as putting yourself in a passion; worrying your spirits, and making yourself disagreeable to every body in the room; do you think it would?
Lydia.
No; I do not know that it would; for I am never happy when I fret and scold, nor when I have vexed you. I will try, Mamma, if you will love me dearly.
Little Lydia, as she spoke these last words, threw her arms round her Mamma’s neck; her Mamma gave her a very affectionate kiss, and then said, That I will, my love; and as a mean to assist you in your endeavours, I will, every evening, after you are gone to bed, write a story about you, to tell how you have behaved all day; and the next morning, when we all meet in the parlour, I will read it aloud; and I think you will be much better pleased with the story when you have been a good girl, than when you have been naughty.
Lydia.
Oh! dear, Mamma! when I have been naughty I shall not like at all to have the story read before every body.