Mrs. Alfred Gatty

“ No. 6 was comforted somewhat on hearing this, but still leant her head on Aunt Judy’s shoulder in a rather pensive state.
“I wonder what makes one so tiresome,” mused the meditative No. 5, trying to view the matter quite abstractedly, as if he himself was in no way concerned in it.
“Thoughtlessness only,” replied Aunt Judy, smiling. “I have often heard mamma say it is not ingratitude in children when they don’t think about the comforts they enjoy every day; because the comforts seem to them to come, like air and sunshine, as a mere matter of course.” ”

“ Hamlet.
“What a horrid nuisance you are, No. 8, brushing everything down as you go by! Why can’t you keep out of the way?”
“Oh, you mustn’t come here, No. 8. Aunt Judy, look! he’s sitting on my doll’s best cloak. Do tell him to go away.”
“I can’t have you bothering me, No. 8; don’t you see how busy I am, packing? Get away somewhere else.”
“You should squeeze yourself into less than nothing, and be nowhere, No. 8.” ”

“ Aunt Judy ceased, but there was no chance of seeing the effect of what she had said on No. 6’s face, for it was laid on her sister’s lap; probably to hide the tears which would come into her eyes at Aunt Judy’s allusion to what she had said about her.
At last a rather husky voice spoke:—
“You can’t expect people to like what is so very sad, even if it is—what you call—right—and all that.”
“No! neither does God expect it!” was Aunt Judy’s earnest reply. “We are allowed to be sorry when trials come, for we feel the suffering, and cannot at present understand the blessing or necessity of it. ”

“ But then I conduct myself as Cook, even when I’m in the scullery, and I only wish ladies, and ladies’ young ladies too, would conduct themselves as ladies, even when they come into the kitchen; that’s what I call being honourable and upright. Well, dears, I’ll tell you how I came to know all about it. You see, I lived once in a family where there were no less than eight of those precious little pets, and a precious time I had of it with them. But, to be sure, now it’s past and gone—I can make plenty of excuses for them, poor things! ”

“ So, after arguing the point for a time, he very wisely yielded, and declared at last that he would be a “little one” too, and listen to a “little one’s” story, if Aunt Judy would tell one.
It was rather late when this was settled, and the little ones had stayed up-stairs to play at a newly-invented game—bazaars—in the nursery; but when No. 3 strode in with the announcement of the story, there was a shout of delight, followed by the old noisy rush down-stairs to the dining-room.
It is not a bad thing to be a “little one” now and then in spirit. People would do well to try and be so oftener. ”

“ It is very pleasant, no doubt, to do good, and be charitable, when the feeling comes into the heart, but the mere pleasure is apt to cease, if we find people thankless or stupid, and that our labours seem to have been in vain. And what a temptation there is, then, to turn away in disgust, unless we are acting upon Christ’s commands, and can bear in mind, that even when the pleasure ends, the duty remains.
“And now,” said Aunt Judy in conclusion, “a kiss for the story-teller all round, if you please. She has had an invitation, and is going from home to-morrow.”
“Oh, Aunt Judy!” ”

“ But Aunt Judy had by no means done.
“Impossible about conjuring and actually talking to evil spirits, certainly,” said she; “but spiritual influences, both bad and good, come to us all, No. 3, without bodily communion; so for those who are inclined to feel like Dr. Faustus, there is both a moral and a warning in his fate.”
“I don’t know what about,” cried No. 3. “I think he was uncommonly stupid, after all he had learnt, to get into such a mess. Why, you yourself are always trying to make out that the more people labour and learn, the more sure they are to keep out of mischief. ”

“ Tender-hearted and impulsive, if thoughtless, the spirit of No. 3 had been moved within him at the spectacle of the gaunt old woman in this hour of her lonely suffering.
Poor “Tawny Rachel!” The children had called her so, from the heroine of Mrs. Hannah More’s tale, because of those dark gipsy eyes of hers, which had formerly given such a fine expression to her handsome but melancholy face. Melancholy, because care-worn from the long life’s struggle for daily bread, for a large indulged family, who scarcely knew, at the day of her death, that she had worn herself out for their sakes. ”

“ But towards God we remain ignorant infants all our lives. That was what I meant.”
“But surely, Aunt Judy,” interrupted No. 6, “mamma and you know—” There she stopped.
“Nothing about God’s dealings,” pursued Aunt Judy, “but that they are sure to be good for us, even when we like them least, and cannot understand them at all. We know so little what we ought really to like and dislike, dear No. 6, that we often fret and cry as foolishly as the two children did, who, while they were in mourning for their mother, broke their hearts over the loss of a set of rabbits’ tails.” ”

“ The question is, what do cooks and boys in buttons think?”
“But, Aunt Judy, ladies are never tiresome, and idle, and impertinent, like cooks and boys in buttons. Oh! if you had but heard the real Cook Stories those ladies told! I say, let me tell you one or two—I do think I can remember them, if I try.”
“Then don’t try on any account, dear No. 6,” exclaimed Aunt Judy. “I like make-believe Cook Stories much better than real ones.”
“So do I!” cried No. 7, “they’re so much the more entertaining.”
“And not a bit less useful,” subjoined Aunt Judy, with a sly smile. ”

“ Franz, to have a young man like you in my house! You’re your father over again, and I can’t praise you more. He was the most modest, unobtrusive man in all our town, and yet knew more of his business than all of us put together.’
“‘No, no, I can’t allow that,’ cried the motherly wife.
“‘Nonsense!’ replied the old partner. ‘However, my dear boy—for I really must call you so—it was that very thing that made your father’s fortune; I mean that he was just as unpretending as he was clever. Everybody trusts an unpretending man. ”

“ I should have thought it no cruelty, but kindness then, to have spoken to them about their lost mother, and told them that she was living now in a place where she was much, much happier, than she had ever been before, and where one of the very few things she had left to wish for, was, that one day she might see them again: not in this world, where people are so often uncomfortable and sad, but in that happy one where there is no more sorrow, or crying, for God Himself wipes away the tears from all eyes. ”

“ No. 5 was silenced, but rubbed his hands nevertheless.
“Well,” continued Aunt Judy, “that ‘something’ ought surely to have been the most contented thing in the world. Its merits were acknowledged; its usefulness was undoubted; its beauty was the theme of constant admiration; what had it left to wish for? Really nothing; but by an unlucky accident it became dissatisfied with its situation in a meadow field, and wished to get into a higher position in life, which, it took for granted, would be more suited to its many exalted qualities. The ‘something’ of the field wanted to inhabit a garden. ”

“ You never heard such a fizzling as it made in your life—in short, everything was in a mess, and there was no cook.
“Well! I basted the meat for a few minutes, took the potatoe-pan off the fire, and then ran up-stairs to put on my bonnet. Thought I, the best thing I can do is to send somebody for the policeman, and let him find the cook. But while I was tying the strings of my bonnet, I fancied I heard a mysterious noise coming out of the bottom drawer of my wardrobe. Fancy that, ma’am, with my nerves in such a state from the cook being lost!” ”

“ But a new world had now opened before them out of the very midst of their sorrow itself. The fancy home of the Tods was almost a more available source of amusement, than even playing with the real things had been; and sometimes in the early morning, sometimes for the precious half-hour at night, before sleep overtook them, the little wits went to work with fresh details and suppositions, and they related to each other, in turns, the imaginary events of the day in the cellar among the barrels. ”

“ The little ones were amazed.
“Something,” at any rate, responded Aunt Judy; “and if you like to come in here, and sit down, I will tell you how.”
Away went hoes and weeding-knives at once, and into the alcove they rushed; and never had garden-seats felt so thoroughly comfortable before.
“If one begins to wish,” suggested No. 5, stretching his legs out to their full extent, “one may as well wish oneself a grand person with a lot of gardeners to clear away the weeds as fast as they come up, and save one the trouble.”
“Much better wish them away, and save everybody the trouble,” persisted No. 6. ”

“ Aunt Judy glanced her eye round the group; but whatever her opinion as an artist might have been of its general beauty, she was by no means satisfied with the result of her inspection.
“No. 6 and No. 7,” cried she, “you are not fit to listen to a story at present. You have come with dirty hands.”
No. 6 frowned, and No. 7 broke out at once into a howl; he had washed his hands ever so short a time ago, and had done nothing since but play at knuckle-bones on the floor! Surely people needn’t wash their hands every ten minutes! ”

“ That paradise of happiness, of which the lob-worm told us, is close at hand. Come! it only wants a little extra exertion on your part, and you will be carried thither by the wind, as easily as the wandering Dandelion himself. Courage, my dears! nothing out of the common is ever gained without an effort. See now! as soon as ever a strong breeze blows the proper way, I shall shake my heads as hard as ever I can, that you may be off. All the doors and windows are open now, you know, and you must throw yourselves out upon the wind. ”

“ The little ones stared.
“Well,” resumed Aunt Judy, “for my part, I think it’s a very nice thing to learn the ins and outs of one’s own life; to consider how one’s bed is made, and the why and wherefore of its shape and position. It is a great pity to get so accustomed to things as not to know their value till we lose them! ”

“ It’s much too fine to stay in doors, I feel; and I can give you all something real to do.”
“I’ll give way, I’m sure, Aunt Judy,” cried No. 6, quite glad to be rid of the dispute; “and so will you, won’t you, No. 8?” she added, appealing to that young gentleman, who stood with his pinafore full of dirty oyster-shells, not quite understanding the meaning of what was said.
“I’ll what?” inquired he.
“Oh, never mind! Only throw the oyster-shells down, and come with Aunt Judy. It will be much better fun than staying here.” ”

“ Of course, mamma asked what Aunt Judy’s story had been about, and heard; and heard, too, No. 6’s little trouble lest she should have been guilty of the sin of real ingratitude; and, of course, mamma applauded Aunt Judy’s explanation about the want of thought, very much indeed.
“But, mamma,” said No. 6 to her mother, “Aunt Judy said something about grown-up people having to learn to be thankful. Surely you and papa never cry for nonsense, and things you can’t have?” ”

“ No, no, I know what ladies and gentlemen, and ladies’ and gentlemen’s young ladies and young gentlemen are, pretty well, dears, I can tell you! Don’t I know all about the shiny hair and smiling faces of the little pets in the parlour, and how they leave parlour-manners behind them sometimes, when they run to the kitchen to Cook, and order her here and there, and want half-a-dozen things at once, and must and will have what they want, and are for popping their fingers into every pie! ”

“ There was little Whipper-snapper, his younger brother, squeaking out in another corner, ‘I shan’t make a pie, James, I shall make toffey; it’s far better fun. You’d better come and help me. Where’s the treacle pot, Cook? Cook! I say, Cook! where’s the treacle-pot? And look at this stupid kettle and pan. What’s in the pan, I wonder? Oh, kidney-beans! Who cares for kidney-beans? How can I make toffey, when all these things are on the fire? ”

“ Why can’t you keep out of people’s way?’
“‘My good friend,’ cried Mr. Franz, ‘that’s not my plan at present. I’m trying to make myself agreeable.’
“‘Oh—pooh!—bother agreeable,’ cried the waiter. ‘What’s the use of making yourself agreeable, if you’re always in the way? Here!—step back, sir! don’t you see the tray coming?’
“Franz had not noticed it, and would probably have got a thump on the head from it, if his friend the waiter had not pulled him back. The man was a real good-natured, smiling German, and said:—
“‘Come, young gentleman, here’s a candle;—you’ve a bed-room here, of course. ”

“ It was a fine May morning. Not one of those with an east wind and a bright sun, which keep people in a puzzle all as day to whether it is hot or cold, and cause endless nursery disputes about the keeping on of comforters and warm coats, whenever a hoop-race, or some such active exertion, has brought a universal puggyness over the juvenile frame—but it was a really mild, sweet-scented day, when it is quite a treat to be out of doors, whether in the gardens, the lanes, or the fields, and when nothing but a holland jacket is thought necessary by even the most tiresomely careful of mammas. ”

“ It’s all very well for you girls—now, Miss Pert, mind your own affairs, and don’t stare at me!—to amuse yourself with all manner of—”
“Follies, of course,” cried Aunt Judy, laughing, “don’t be afraid of speaking out, No. 3. It’s all very well for us girls to amuse ourselves with all manner of follies, and nonsense, and rubbish;” here Aunt Judy chucked the drawing-book to the end of the table, tossed a dictionary after it, and threw another book or two into the air, catching them as they came down. ”

“ Aunt Judy wanted to know what it was; the place or the people, (including herself,) or what?
No. 3 could explain it no other way than by declaring that everything was slow; there was nothing to do.
Aunt Judy maintained that there was plenty to do.
Whereupon No. 3 said:—
“But nothing worth doing.”
Whereupon Aunt Judy told No. 3 that he was just like Dr. Faustus. On which, of course, No. 3 wanted to know what Dr. Faustus was like, and Aunt Judy answered, that he was just like him, only a great deal older and very learned.
“Only quite different, then,” suggested No. 3. ”

“ On which the stranger lady told them she hoped they would henceforth always ask themselves her curious question whenever they sat down to a good meal again. ‘For,’ said she, ‘my dears, it will teach you to be thankful; and you may take my word for it, it is always the ungrateful people who are the most miserable ones.’”
“Oh, Aunt Judy!” here interposed No. 6, somewhat vehemently, “you need not tell any more! I know you mean us by the little Victims! But you don’t think we really mean to be ungrateful about the beds, or the dinners, or anything, do you?” ”