"But, mother," said he, "why cannot I go out now, with the umbrella?"
"Because," she replied, "when it rains fast, some of the water spatters through the umbrella, and some will be driven against you by the wind."
"Well, I will wait, and as soon as it rains but little, I will go out. But must I take off my shoes and stockings?"
"Yes," said his mother, "or else you will get them wet and muddy. And before you go you must get a dipper of water ready in the shed, to pour on your feet, and wash them, when you get back; and then wait till they are entirely dry, before you put on your shoes and stockings again. If you want the pea-pods enough to take all that trouble, you may go for them."
Rollo said he did want them enough for that, and he then went back and told Lucy what his mother had said, and they concluded to read until the rain should cease, and that then Rollo should go out into the garden.
They began to read; but their minds were so much upon the pea-pod boats, that the story did not interest them very much. Besides, children cannot read very well aloud, to one another; for if they succeed in calling all the words right, they do not generally give the stops and the emphasis, and the proper tones of voice, so as to make the story interesting to those that hear. Some boys and girls are vain enough to think that they can read very well, just because they can call all the words without stopping to spell them; but this is very far from being enough to make a good reader.
Rollo read a little way, and then Lucy read a little way; but they were not much interested, and thinking that the difficulty might be in the book, they got another, but with no better success. At last Rollo said they would go and get their mother to read to them. So they went together to her room, and Rollo said that they could not get along very well in rending themselves, and asked her if she would not be good enough to read to them.
"Why, what is the difficulty?" said she.
"O, I do not know, exactly: the story is not very interesting, and then we cannot read very well."
"In what respect will it be better for me to read to you?" she asked.
"Why, mother, you can choose us a prettier story; and then we should understand it better if you read it."
"I suppose you would; but I see you have made a great mistake."
"What mistake?" said both the children at once.
"Why is it that you are going to read at all?"
"Why, you advised us to, mother."
"Did I advise you to do it as a duty, or as a pleasure ?"
"As a duty, mother; I recollect now." said Rollo.
"Yes: well, now the mistake you have made is, that you are looking upon it only as a pleasure, and instead of doing it faithfully, in such a way as will make it most useful to you, you are forgetting that altogether, and only intent upon having it interesting and pleasant. Is it not so?"
"Why-yes," said Rollo, hesitating, and looking down; and then turning round to Lucy, he said, "I suppose we had better go and read the story ourselves."
"Do just as you please," said his mother. "I have not commanded you to read, but only recommended it; and that not as a way of interesting you, but as a way of spending an hour usefully, as a preparation for an hour of enjoyment afterwards. You can do as you please, however; but if you attempt to read at all, I advise you to do it not as play, but as a lesson."
"Well, come, Rollo," said Lucy, "let us go."
So the children ran back to the entry, and sat down to their story, taking pains to read carefully, as if their object was to learn to read; and though they did not expect it, they did, in fact, have a very pleasant time.
The rest of the adventures of Rollo and Lucy, during this day must be reserved for another story.
THE FRESHET.
[Illustration: "Going to see the freshet."]
THE FRESHET
* * * * *
The story that Rollo and his cousin Lucy began to read together, in the back entry, looking out towards the garden, that rainy day when they were disappointed of the excursion up the mountain, commenced as follows:-
MARIA AND THE CARAVAN.
Maria Wilton lives in the pretty white house which stands just at the entrance of the wood, where the children find the blackberries so thick in the berrying season. It is not as large or elegant a house as many that we pass on a walk through the village; but yet, with its neatly-painted front and blooming little garden, its appearance is quite as inviting as that of many a more splendid mansion. Certain it is, at least, that there is not a more pleasant or happy dwelling in the town. Neatness and good order regulate all the arrangements of the family, and where such is the case, it is almost needless to add that peace and harmony characterize the intercourse of the inmates. It is seldom that confusion or uproar, or disputes or contentions, are known among the Wiltons.
But it was of Maria that I was intending to speak more particularly,-her kind, and yielding, and conciliating manners towards her brothers and sisters. Maria was not the oldest of the children; she was not quite nine, and her sister Harriet was as much as eleven, and her brother George still older. And yet her influence did more to maintain peace and good feeling in the family group, than would have been believed by a person who had not observed her. In every case where only her own wishes or inclinations were concerned, Maria was ready to give up to George or Harriet; because, as she said, they were older than herself; and again, she was quite as ready to yield to little Susan and Willy, because they were younger. Her brothers and sisters, in their turn, were far less apt to contend for any privilege or advantage, than they would have been, if she had shown herself more tenacious of her own rights.
Mr. Wilton used occasionally to go into the city, a few miles distant, upon business. He usually went in a chaise, taking one of the children with him. The excursion was to them a very pleasant one, and all anticipated, with a great deal of pleasure, their respective turns to ride with their father. It happened that the day when it fell to Maria's turn, was to be the close of an exhibition of animals, which had been for a short time in the city. Maria's eye brightened with pleasure as her father mentioned this circumstance at the dinner table, and inquired if she would like to visit the caravan.
"O, father!" exclaimed George, eagerly, as he laid down his knife and fork; "a caravan!-Mayn't I go?"
"You cannot both go," replied his father; "and I believe it is Maria's turn to go into town with me."
"Well," said George, "but I don't believe Maria would care any thing about seeing it;" and his eye glanced eagerly from his father to Maria, and then from Maria to his father again.
"How is it, Maria?" said Mr. Wilton; "have you no wish to visit the caravan?"
Maria did not answer directly, while yet her countenance showed very plainly what her wishes really were. "Is there an elephant there, father?" she, at length, rather hesitatingly inquired.
"There probably is," replied her father.
"An elephant!" repeated George with something of a sneer; "who has not seen an elephant? I would not give a farthing to go, if there was nothing better than an elephant to be seen."
"What should you care so much to see?" inquired Mr. Wilton.
"Why, I would give any thing to see a leopard or a camel."
"A leopard or a camel!" repeated his father in the same tone in which George had made his rude speech; "I am sure I wouldn't give a farthing to see either a camel or a leopard."
"No," said George, "because you have seen them both; but I never did."
"Neither has Maria seen an elephant," returned Mr. Wilton; "so what is the difference?"
George looked a little mortified at the overthrow of his argument. But still his eagerness for the gratification was not to be repressed.-"I shouldn't think a girl need to care about going to see a parcel of wild beasts," he remarked, rather petulantly, as he gave his chair a push, upon rising from the table.