Bessie in the City. Mathews Joanna Hooe
Bessie in the City
I.
LITTLE FRIENDS AT HOME
"MAMMA," said Maggie Bradford, as she sat upon the floor in her mother's room, lacing her walking boots, – "mamma, I wish I had another terrible fault."
"Why, Maggie!" said Mrs. Bradford.
"I do, indeed, mamma, – a dreadful fault, something a great deal worse than carelessness."
Mrs. Bradford was busy unpacking trunks and arranging drawers and closets; for the family had just come home from the sea-shore, where they had been spending the summer; but she was so surprised to hear Maggie say this that she turned around with her hands full, to look at her little daughter. She saw that Maggie was very much in earnest, and had some reason for this strange wish.
"And why do you wish that, daughter?" she asked.
"Because, mamma, if I had such a fault, people would be so very anxious I should cure it. Oh, dear! there's another knot in my shoe-string!" and Maggie gave a jerk and a hard pull at her boot-lace. "I do not at all wish to keep it, only to break myself of it."
"But why should you wish for a fault which would grieve your friends and trouble yourself only that you may be at the pains of curing it, Maggie? You have faults enough, dear; and if they are not what may be called very terrible, they are quite serious enough to need all your attention, and you should be thankful that it does not require a harder struggle to overcome them."
"I know that, mamma," answered Maggie, with a very grave face; "but then you see if my friends wished me very much to cure my fault, perhaps they would offer me money to do it. You know when I used to be so very, very careless, Grandpapa Duncan paid me for trying to do better, so that I might help earn the easy-chair for lame Jemmy Bent. And I want money very much, – a great deal of it, mamma."
"But that would be a very poor reason for wishing to rid yourself of a bad fault, my child. And why do you want so much money? It seems to me that you have everything given to you which a reasonable little girl can want; and besides you have your weekly allowance of six cents."
"Yes, ma'am," said Maggie, with another jerk at her boot-lace; "but Bessie and I want to save all our allowance for Christmas. We want to have two whole dollars, so that we can give presents to every one of the family and all the servants and Colonel and Mrs. Rush. And we have told every one that we are going to do it, so it would not be quite fair to take the money for anything else; would it, mamma?"
"Not if you have promised to spend it in that way," said Mrs. Bradford, with a smile at the thought of how much the two dollars were expected to furnish; "but it is wiser not to make such large promises. You should have been very sure that you wished to spend your money for presents before you said you would do so."
"But I do wish to use it for that, Mamma, and so does Bessie, but we have another plan in our minds. Bessie and I like to have plans, and this is a charity plan, mamma, and will take a great deal of money. There, now, there's that boot-lace broken! I just believe that shoemaker sells bad laces on purpose to provoke little girls. Something ought to be done to him. It's such a bother to lace my boots, and 'most always just when I have one done, the lace breaks. It's too bad!"
"Yes, it is too bad, Maggie, quite too bad that you should destroy so many laces; but I scarcely think Mr. White does his work poorly on purpose to vex his little customers. It is your own impatience and heedlessness, my daughter, which are to blame. You pull and drag at your shoe-strings, not taking time to fasten them properly, and of course they knot and break. That is the second one this week, and last week, also, you destroyed two. You say you wish to learn to dress yourself, that you may be a useful and helpful little girl; but you make more trouble than you save when you tear the buttons and strings from your clothes, or knot and fray your shoe-laces. It would have been much more convenient for me to put on your boots for you than it is to leave what I am doing to find a lace among all these trunks and boxes. Do you see, Maggie?"
"Yes, mamma," said Maggie, looking very much mortified, "but do you not think my carelessness is any better?"
"Indeed, I do, pussy. I do not wish to take from my little girl any of the credit she deserves, and you need not look so distressed. You are much more careful than you were six months ago; you have tried hard, and improved very much; but you have still something to do in that way, dear. I think you will find the old faults quite troublesome enough without wishing for new ones to cure."
"Yes, ma'am," said Maggie, "but then – "
"Well, dear, but then – what?"
"Why, mamma, I wouldn't feel as if it was quite right to wish to be paid twice over for curing myself of the same fault, and Grandpapa Duncan might think it was not fair."
"You are right, Maggie," said Mrs. Bradford, "and I am glad to hear you say that; but I should like to understand why you and Bessie wish for a great deal of money. If it is for a good purpose, I think I can put you in the way of earning some."
"Oh, would you, mamma? That would be so nice! Bessie," – as her little sister came into the room, dressed for her walk, and followed by Jane with Maggie's hat and sack in her hand, – "Bessie, mamma thinks she can let us earn some money."
"Thank you, mamma," said Bessie; "that is delighterful. I am so glad."
"I will tell you what it is for, mamma," said Maggie.
"Not now, dear," said Mrs. Bradford; "it is time for your walk, and you must let Jane put on your things. When you come home, you shall tell me, and meanwhile, I will be thinking in what way I can help you. But remember, I only promise to do so if I think well of your plan. You may think it a very wise one, while I may think it very foolish."
"Oh, mamma," said Maggie, "I am quite sure you will think this is wise. Mrs. Rush made it, and she is so very good that it must be quite right."
"Yes, I think any plan Mrs. Rush proposes for you will be a safe one," said Mrs. Bradford, with a smile.
"You mean you have trust in her, mamma?" said Bessie.
"Yes, dear. I can trust her. She is a true and faithful friend to me and to my little ones," answered Mrs. Bradford, as she stooped and kissed first one and then the other of her little girls. "And now good-by, my darlings. I will hear all when you come back. I hope you will have a pleasant walk."
"I shall not, mamma," said Maggie, with a solemn shake of her curly head. "I am so very anxious to tell you, and to hear what we can do, that I shall not enjoy my walk at all. I wish I could stay at home."
But Maggie found herself mistaken; for the day was so bright and pleasant, the park so cool, green, and shady, and so full, of other little children, that she not only enjoyed her walk very much, but for the time quite forgot her plan and her wish to earn money. And in the park, our little girls met a friend whom they were very glad to see. They were running down one of the broad paths, when Bessie saw an old gentleman coming towards them with a pleasant smile on his face. She stood still to take a second look, and then called to her sister.
"Oh, Maggie, here's our dear friend, Mr. Hall!"
"Why, so it is!" said Maggie, in glad surprise, for this was a very unexpected pleasure.
Mr. Hall lived but two or three doors from Mr. Bradford, and as he generally came for a walk in the park after his breakfast, Maggie and Bessie were almost sure to meet him when they were out in the morning. But he was not apt to be there in the afternoon, and so they had not looked for him at this time.
It so happened that Mr. Hall had stepped out upon his front stoop just as Mrs. Bradford's little flock started for their walk; and there he saw them all going down the street. He put on his hat, took his gold-headed cane, and walked out after them.
"Mr. Hall, I am very pleased to see you," said Bessie.
"And so am I, Mr. Hall," said Maggie.
"And I am very much pleased to see you," said Mr. Hall; "but I should like to know what has become of two little granddaughters of mine, who went away to the sea-shore two months since. I thought I should find them in the park; but in their place I find two little strangers, who have no name for me but Mr. Hall."
"Oh,