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John Gay was eight years old. He was not a good boy, for he now and then told what was not true, and that is not right, for all boys and girls should speak the truth.
One day when his Aunt was in the room, John came in, and he saw her with a plum cake in her hand. She told him when she left the room, that he must not touch. He said, "No, Aunt; I will not touch it."
When his Aunt had been some time gone, John thought, "Well, if I were to take a bit of cake, my Aunt would not miss it from such a large cake as this is: yet it seems to me not to be quite right to take it."
But this boy (sad to say!) did take a piece, and he found it so good that he thought he would take a piece more. He did take some more; and he took piece by piece, and piece by piece, till he had made the cake quite small.
When he had done this, he knew that he had done wrong, and he felt sad. He went in his own room. He knew that the time must come when his Aunt would find it out.
He was sure that his Aunt would scold him if she knew; but he thought if he told her he had not done it she would think that he told the truth.
With these thoughts in his mind, he heard a knock at the door. He knew that it was his Aunt, so he made haste to come down stairs. He did not go in the room where the plum cake was, but he went in the next room. He took up a book, but he could not read, for his thoughts were too full of what he had done.
Soon his Aunt came in with the plum cake in her hand. "John," said she, "look at this cake: when I went out it was quite large, and now look at it!"
John said, "I do not know of it: how should I?"
She then rang; the bell: "Ann," said she as the maid came in the room, "do you know what has made the cake in this state? Call the cook, and ask her."
The cook said the same as Ann had said, that "she did not know of it."
When they were gone, his Aunt said to John, "It can be no one but you who have done this. I left you in the room with this cake, and told you not to touch it, and now, when I am come back, I find it in this state."
John could not speak a word, for he felt that he had done wrong. His Aunt saw this, and told him to go to bed.
When he was in bed he thought what a bad boy he had been, and how wrong it was for him to have told his Aunt what was not true. He thought that when he got up he would go and tell his Aunt how wrong he had been, and that he would do so no more.
John did as he thought he would do. His Aunt told him that if he was a good boy for a month, no more should be said of it.
He was a good boy for a month; but for a long time past the month, when John saw plum cake, a flush of shame came on his face.
What A Price For A Box!
Rose Wood was in want of six pence. She had seen a box that she had a great wish to buy; and she thought that if she had but six pence, which was the price of that box, she should not have a want for a long time.
Rose would stand close to the shop, near a pane of glass through which she could see this box, and each time she saw it the more strong was her wish to have it for her own.
So much did Rose think of it that it might be said she had not a wish but what was shut up in that box.
"What shall I do for six pence?" said Rose one day; "that box will cost but six pence, and if I had six pence it would be my own."
"Why," said Mark Wood, "if you will sell your self to me, I will give you six pence."
"Sell my self! yes, that I will," said Rose. "Give me six pence, and I will sell my self at once."
"But," said Mark, "do you know that when I have bought you, you will be my child, and that you must do all that I bid you do?"
"Oh! I will do all: I don't care what you bid me do, if I may but have the six pence to buy that box."
The six pence were hers, and the box was bought; but, poor Rose! you had to pay a great price for it.
With what joy she ran home box in hand!
"Look at it, look at it, Mark! This box is mine now; do just look at it. Do just look at this glass at the top: I can see my face in it, and I can see some of the things that are in the room. In the box I mean to keep small sweet cakes; and, Mark, I am sure I shall give you some, for you have been so kind to let me hav...
"Stop, Rose, stop!" said Mark, "and do not thank me for the six pence till you know what I mean you to do for it. The first thing I shall tell you to do is, 'Put down the box.'"
"Put down the box!" said Rose: "not yet: -- why must I put down the box?"
"Why! I tell you to do so; you are my child now, and must do what I bid you."
Poor Rose!
"But I may play with the box? I must and will play with my nice new box; that you will let me do."
"No, Rose," said Mark, "I can let you play with it no more. You must come with me; I mean to send you out to find some cress, and then you must go and try to sell it. Come, I shall put you on this hat of old Bet's, and you must wear this old shawl, and you must tuck up your frock, and go out to find the cress."
"Oh dear! oh dear!" said Rose; "you do not mean that I should do this?"
"But I do mean it, and you must go at once."
Mark put on the hat and the shawl for her. She was quite still, and said not a word. Mark then took hold of her hand and led her to a field near the house, and told her she must not come back till she had got as much nice cress as would sell for two pence. He then shut the gate of the field, and left poor Rose by her s...
At first she did not move, so strange did it seem to her that she should be left thus.
Soon she sat down on a bank. When she had been there some time she got up.
"How queer this is!" said she; "but it is all fun:" yet the laugh with which she said this was soon a cry.
Rose was a girl not soon cast down; all that she had to do or to bear, she did her best to do and to bear it well. She took a walk up and down the field, and at last she thought, "Well, I might as well try and see if I can find some cress;" and then she ran up and down till she had got a great way from the house.
No cress could she find, so she thought she would turn back and go home. But just when she had thought this, she saw on a pond, at the foot of the long slope on which she stood, some bright green weed, that she thought was cress. Off she set down the slope as fast as she could run, and she ran so fast that she could no...
Rose was deep in the pond -- it came up as far as her throat! There she stuck quite fast, and there she might have stuck for hours, had not her cries been heard by Mark, who, though not seen, had not lost sight of her since the time she had left the house.
Mark, who was now in great fear, ran as fast as feet could run to the place where the head of Rose was to be seen on the pond, like a float on the top of green weeds. When Mark came to the slope, he went down it with care, lest the fate of Rose should be his.
The screams of Rose were loud: "I shall sink! I shall sink deep, deep down! Oh, help me! help me!" She then saw Mark: "Mark! Mark!" she said; "fast! fast! pray, pray come fast." Mark was now at the edge of the pond. "Raise up your arms," said he; "raise up your arms, and take fast hold of my hand."
The mud and slime were so thick that poor Rose found it hard to raise up her arms. Yet she did so, and caught hold of Mark's hand with such force that he, too, would have been in the pond had he not made a quick step back.
When Rose had got a firm grasp, Mark, with all the strength he had, did what he could to drag her out. At length she was out: she stood at the edge of the pond, her clothes thick with mud and slime; and such a weight she was, that she could not move fast.
Poor Mark stood by her side, his face quite pale with the fright he had had. They went up the slope as well as they could. When they were near home, just at the gate which led out of the last field, they were met by Mr. Wood. What must Mr. Wood have thought to see Rose in that strange state, and with such a queer hat o...