"I am not sure that you are any more safe on that account, Emma," replied her mother, "for you know I have often remarked to you, that you generally prepare your lessons the worst when you consider them the easiest; as then you are apt, from the idea that they can be learnt in so very short a time, to put them off until you have no time for them at all, instead of learning them first and amusing yourself afterward." "But I will not do so to-night," said the little girl, and away she went directly to study them. And fortunate it was for her that she did so, for she had scarcely finished the last thing that she had to learn before her friend Julia came to play with her. She could now, however, play with safety, and the rest of the evening was passed in amusement. The new cap was tried on and found to fit beautifully, and the baby was dressed and undressed, put to bed and taken up again; declared to be very sick and obliged to take medicine; taken out to visit; sent to bed for being naughty; and, in short, passed through all the vicissitudes of a moderate life-time before the friends parted for the night.
"It is eight o'clock," cried Emily, capering about the room, half dancing and half jumping as she spoke; "I am safe for to-day, and I have only till twelve o'clock to-morrow, and then I shall get my ticket, and then I shall be safe; and then I shall go to Mrs. Cassy's."
"And then," rejoined her mother, "I hope you will have learned how much better it is to work first and play after, than to play first and run the risk of the work being neglected altogether."
"Oh! yes, mamma! I intend to remember that in future," said the little girl, and away she went to bed, singing as she went, to a tune of her own making,
"How pleasant it is at the end of the day,
Of no follies to have to repent."
"Emily!" said her mother, rousing her little girl from a sound sleep, as she spoke; "Emily! Do you know it is nearly eight o'clock?"
"Oh! it is time enough, mamma," said Emily, starting up as she spoke; "it struck eight o'clock before I was out of bed yesterday morning; and yet I was in the school-room some minutes before the bell rang."
"But if you trifle in that way, it will be nine o'clock before you are out of this room," continued her mother; as Emily, taking hold of her little night-gown, instead of a frock, began to practice her dancing steps. "You see, my dear, you have yet only got your stockings and shoes on; so, at this rate, it will certainly take you more than an hour to finish your dressing."
"Oh! indeed you are mistaken, mamma, you will see how soon I shall be out of the room," and roused to recollection by this remonstrance, the rest of her dressing was very quickly finished. Her breakfast too was despatched with equal rapidity. "Now I am ready," said she, starting from her chair, and putting on her little brown beaver hat as she spoke; "and now for my coat; but stop," she continued, throwing her coat carelessly over her arm; "I have not my bag: Where is it, I wonder? Oh! I remember! I left it in the piazza when I went to look what sort of a morning it was;" and off she went, dragging her coat, which still hung over her arm, after her; and on the piazza she found her bag, mittens, one of her books, and slate, all lying as she had thrown them out of her hand, to run after some trifle that had at the moment attracted her attention; but as she took up her bag with the intention of putting her book and slate into it, her favourite kitten, which had followed her to the piazza, running after her coat as it dragged after her along the floor, now caught at the bag, and tugged and scratched at it, as if it had been intended entirely for its amusement. This was too congenial with Emily's own frolicsome disposition to be resisted, and there she stood, at one moment drawing the bag away, and the next throwing it back again to the sportive little animal. And we must be permitted here to pause and describe our little friend, as she looked while thus engaged. It was one of those fine mild mornings, which of late years we have so often witnessed in the very depth of winter, and the sun, which had just risen, sent forth his beams to gild the landscape behind her, defining her figure more clearly by the contrast. To the eye of fancy and affection, that rising sun might have been thought to represent her whose orb like his own was just rising; and though a few mists yet obscured the bright rays of mind which had already begun to beam, yet no one could look at the face, which, though not formed according to any of the acknowledged rules of beauty, was bright with innocence, animation, and happiness, without feeling assured, that as it gained its meridian heights, it would shine forth with pure, unclouded lustre, and prepare the way for a clear and glorious evening. Though Emily, as she thus stood, presented a picture that a painter might study, it was but of short duration, for whilst she yet played with her favourite, the clock struck nine, and at once recalled the little girl to a recollection of her folly. "Oh! what shall I do?" she exclaimed. "It is nine o'clock, and I am not ready. Get away, kitty! do not come near me again," she continued, as the kitten, which had received no warning from the stroke of the clock, still tried to catch at the strings of the bag whilst she was putting in its usual contents; "get away! for if you had not come near me, I should not have staid so long. I should not have been tempted with any thing else. Oh! how hard my coat is to get on this morning. I cannot tell what is the matter with this hook and eye! it will not fasten. Yes! now it is fastened and I must run." But though poor Emily did run, and put herself into a most violent heat; and though she went into the school-room puffing and blowing, the words, as she entered, of "Miss Emily Osman—you are too late," told her at once that all chance of visiting her friend Mrs. Cassy was over.