Kitabı oku: «The Parent's Assistant; Or, Stories for Children», sayfa 3

'No,' replied the postmaster's daughter; 'this house is given to them as a reward– that was the word in the letter; for I saw it. Edmund showed it to me, and will show it to any one that wants to see. This house was given to them "as a reward for their honesty."'

LAZY LAWRENCE

In the pleasant valley of Ashton there lived an elderly woman of the name of Preston. She had a small neat cottage, and there was not a weed to be seen in her garden. It was upon her garden that she chiefly depended for support; it consisted of strawberry beds, and one small border for flowers. The pinks and roses she tied up in nice nosegays, and sent either to Clifton or Bristol to be sold. As to her strawberries, she did not send them to market, because it was the custom for numbers of people to come from Clifton, in the summer time, to eat strawberries and cream at the gardens in Ashton.

Now, the widow Preston was so obliging, active, and good-humoured, that every one who came to see her was pleased. She lived happily in this manner for several years; but, alas! one autumn she fell sick, and, during her illness, everything went wrong; her garden was neglected, her cow died, and all the money which she had saved was spent in paying for medicines. The winter passed away, while she was so weak that she could earn but little by her work; and when the summer came, her rent was called for, and the rent was not ready in her little purse as usual. She begged a few months' delay, and they were granted to her; but at the end of that time there was no resource but to sell her horse Lightfoot. Now Lightfoot, though perhaps he had seen his best days, was a very great favourite. In his youth he had always carried the dame to the market behind her husband; and it was now her little son Jem's turn to ride him. It was Jem's business to feed Lightfoot, and to take care of him – a charge which he never neglected, for, besides being a very good-natured, he was a very industrious boy.

'It will go near to break my Jem's heart,' said Dame Preston to herself, as she sat one evening beside the fire stirring the embers, and considering how she had best open the matter to her son, who stood opposite to her, eating a dry crust of bread very heartily for supper.

'Jem,' said the old woman, 'what, art hungry?' 'That I am, brave and hungry!'

'Ay! no wonder, you've been brave hard at work – Eh?' 'Brave hard! I wish it was not so dark, mother, that you might just step out and see the great bed I've dug; I know you'd say it was no bad day's work – and oh, mother! I've good news: Farmer Truck will give us the giant strawberries, and I'm to go for 'em to-morrow morning, and I'll be back afore breakfast.'

'God bless the boy! how he talks! – Four mile there, and four mile back again, afore breakfast.' 'Ay, upon Lightfoot, you know, mother, very easily; mayn't I?' 'Ay, child!' 'Why do you sigh, mother?' 'Finish thy supper, child.' 'I've done!' cried Jem, swallowing the last mouthful hastily, as if he thought he had been too long at supper – 'and now for the great needle; I must see and mend Lightfoot's bridle afore I go to bed.'

To work he set, by the light of the fire, and the dame having once more stirred it, began again with 'Jem, dear, does he go lame at all now?' 'What, Lightfoot! Oh la, no, not he! – never was so well of his lameness in all his life. He's grown quite young again, I think, and then he's so fat he can hardly wag.' 'God bless him – that's right. We must see, Jem, and keep him fat.' 'For what, mother!' 'For Monday fortnight at the fair. He's to be – sold!' 'Lightfoot!' cried Jem, and let the bridle fall from his hand; 'and will mother sell Lightfoot?' 'Will? no: but I must, Jem.' 'Must! who says you must? why must you, mother?' 'I must, I say, child. Why, must not I pay my debts honestly; and must not I pay my rent, and was not it called for long and long ago; and have not I had time; and did not I promise to pay it for certain Monday fortnight, and am not I two guineas short; and where am I to get two guineas? So what signifies talking, child?' said the widow, leaning her head upon her arm. 'Lightfoot must go.'

Jem was silent for a few minutes – 'Two guineas, that's a great, great deal. If I worked, and worked, and worked ever so hard, I could no ways earn two guineas afore Monday fortnight – could I, mother?' 'Lord help thee, no; not an' work thyself to death.' 'But I could earn something, though, I say,' cried Jem proudly; 'and I will earn something– if it be ever so little, it will be something– and I shall do my very best; so I will.' 'That I'm sure of, my child,' said his mother, drawing him towards her and kissing him; 'you were always a good, industrious lad, that I will say afore your face or behind your back; – but it won't do now – Lightfoot must go.'

Jem turned away struggling to hide his tears, and went to bed without saying a word more. But he knew that crying would do no good; so he presently wiped his eyes, and lay awake, considering what he could possibly do to save the horse. 'If I get ever so little,' he still said to himself, 'it will be something, and who knows but landlord might then wait a bit longer? and we might make it all up in time; for a penny a day might come to two guineas in time.'

But how to get the first penny was the question. Then he recollected that one day, when he had been sent to Clifton to sell some flowers, he had seen an old woman with a board beside her covered with various sparkling stones, which people stopped to look at as they passed, and he remembered that some people bought the stones; one paid twopence, another threepence, and another sixpence for them; and Jem heard her say that she got them amongst the neighbouring rocks: so he thought that if he tried he might find some too, and sell them as she had done.

Early in the morning he wakened full of this scheme, jumped up, dressed himself, and, having given one look at poor Lightfoot in his stable, set off to Clifton in search of the old woman, to inquire where she found her sparkling stones. But it was too early in the morning, the old woman was not at her seat; so he turned back again, disappointed. He did not waste his time waiting for her, but saddled and bridled Lightfoot, and went to Farmer Truck's for the giant strawberries.

A great part of the morning was spent in putting them into the ground; and, as soon as that was finished, he set out again in quest of the old woman, whom, to his great joy, he spied sitting at her corner of the street with her board before her. But this old woman was deaf and cross; and when at last Jem made her hear his questions, he could get no answer from her, but that she found the fossils where he would never find any more. 'But can't I look where you looked?' 'Look away, nobody hinders you,' replied the old woman; and these were the only words she would say.

Jem was not, however, a boy to be easily discouraged; he went to the rocks, and walked slowly along, looking at all the stones as he passed. Presently he came to a place where a number of men were at work loosening some large rocks, and one amongst the workmen was stooping down looking for something very eagerly; Jem ran up and asked if he could help him. 'Yes,' said the man, 'you can; I've just dropped, amongst this heap of rubbish, a fine piece of crystal that I got to-day.' 'What kind of a looking thing is it?' said Jem. 'White, and like glass,' said the man, and went on working whilst Jem looked very carefully over the heap of rubbish for a great while.

'Come,' said the man, 'it's gone for ever; don't trouble yourself any more, my boy.' 'It's no trouble; I'll look a little longer; we'll not give it up so soon,' said Jem; and after he had looked a little longer, he found the piece of crystal. 'Thank'e,' said the man, 'you are a fine little industrious fellow.' Jem, encouraged by the tone of voice in which the man spoke this, ventured to ask him the same questions which he had asked the old woman.

'One good turn deserves another,' said the man; 'we are going to dinner just now, and shall leave off work – wait for me here, and I'll make it worth your while.'

Jem waited; and, as he was very attentively observing how the workmen went on with their work, he heard somebody near him give a great yawn, and, turning round, he saw stretched upon the grass, beside the river, a boy about his own age, who, in the village of Ashton, as he knew, went by the name of Lazy Lawrence – a name which he most justly deserved, for he never did anything from morning to night. He neither worked nor played, but sauntered or lounged about restless and yawning. His father was an ale-house keeper, and being generally drunk, could take no care of his son; so that Lazy Lawrence grew every day worse and worse. However, some of the neighbours said that he was a good-natured poor fellow enough, and would never do any one harm but himself; whilst others, who were wiser, often shook their heads, and told him that idleness was the root of all evil.

'What, Lawrence!' cried Jem to him, when he saw him lying upon the grass; 'what, are you asleep?' 'Not quite.' 'Are you awake?' 'Not quite.' 'What are you doing there?' 'Nothing.' 'What are you thinking of?' 'Nothing.' 'What makes you lie there?' 'I don't know – because I can't find anybody to play with me to-day. Will you come and play?' 'No, I can't; I'm busy.' 'Busy,' cried Lawrence, stretching himself, 'you are always busy. I would not be you for the world to have so much to do always.' 'And I,' said Jem, laughing, 'would not be you for the world, to have nothing to do.'

They then parted, for the workman just then called Jem to follow him. He took him home to his own house, and showed him a parcel of fossils, which he had gathered, he said, on purpose to sell, but had never had time enough to sell them. Now, however, he set about the task; and having picked out those which he judged to be the best, he put them in a small basket, and gave them to Jem to sell, upon condition that he should bring him half of what he got. Jem, pleased to be employed, was ready to agree to what the man proposed, provided his mother had no objection. When he went home to dinner, he told his mother his scheme, and she smiled, and said he might do as he pleased; for she was not afraid of his being from home. 'You are not an idle boy,' said she; 'so there is little danger of your getting into any mischief.'

Accordingly Jem that evening took his stand, with his little basket, upon the bank of the river, just at the place where people land from a ferry-boat, and the walk turns to the wells, and numbers of people perpetually pass to drink the waters. He chose his place well, and waited nearly all the evening, offering his fossils with great assiduity to every passenger; but not one person bought any.

'Hallo!' cried some sailors, who had just rowed a boat to land, 'bear a hand here, will you, my little fellow, and carry these parcels for us into yonder house?'

Jem ran down immediately for the parcels, and did what he was asked to do so quickly, and with so much good-will, that the master of the boat took notice of him, and, when he was going away, stopped to ask him what he had got in his little basket; and when he saw that they were fossils, he immediately told Jem to follow him, for that he was going to carry some shells he had brought from abroad to a lady in the neighbourhood who was making a grotto. 'She will very likely buy your stones into the bargain. Come along, my lad; we can but try.'

The lady lived but a very little way off, so that they were soon at her house. She was alone in her parlour, and was sorting a bundle of feathers of different colours; they lay on a sheet of pasteboard upon a window seat, and it happened that as the sailor was bustling round the table to show off his shells, he knocked down the sheet of pasteboard, and scattered all the feathers. The lady looked very sorry, which Jem observing, he took the opportunity, whilst she was busy looking over the sailor's bag of shells, to gather together all the feathers, and sort them according to their different colours, as he had seen them sorted when he first came into the room.

'Where is the little boy you brought with you? I thought I saw him here just now.' 'And here I am, ma'am,' cried Jem, creeping from under the table with some few remaining feathers which he had picked from the carpet; 'I thought,' added he, pointing to the others, 'I had better be doing something than standing idle, ma'am.' She smiled, and, pleased with his activity and simplicity, began to ask him several questions; such as who he was, where he lived, what employment he had, and how much a day he earned by gathering fossils.

'This is the first day I ever tried,' said Jem; 'I never sold any yet, and if you don't buy 'em now, ma'am, I'm afraid nobody else will; for I've asked everybody else.'

'Come, then,' said the lady, laughing, 'if that is the case, I think I had better buy them all.' So, emptying all the fossils out of his basket, she put half a crown into it.

Jem's eyes sparkled with joy. 'Oh, thank you, ma'am,' said he, 'I will be sure and bring you as many more, to-morrow.' 'Yes, but I don't promise you,' said she, 'to give you half a crown, to-morrow.' 'But, perhaps, though you don't promise it, you will.' 'No,' said the lady, 'do not deceive yourself; I assure you that I will not. That, instead of encouraging you to be industrious, would teach you to be idle.'

Jem did not quite understand what she meant by this, but answered, 'I'm sure I don't wish to be idle; what I want is to earn something every day, if I knew how; I'm sure I don't wish to be idle. If you knew all, you'd know I did not.' 'How do you mean, if I knew all?' 'Why, I mean, if you knew about Lightfoot.' 'Who's Lightfoot?' 'Why, mammy's horse,' added Jem, looking out of the window; 'I must make haste home, and feed him afore it gets dark; he'll wonder what's gone with me.' 'Let him wonder a few minutes longer,' said the lady, 'and tell me the rest of your story.' 'I've no story, ma'am, to tell, but as how mammy says he must go to the fair Monday fortnight, to be sold, if she can't get the two guineas for her rent; and I should be main sorry to part with him, for I love him, and he loves me; so I'll work for him, I will, all I can. To be sure, as mammy says, I have no chance, such a little fellow as I am, of earning two guineas afore Monday fortnight.' 'But are you willing earnestly to work?' said the lady; 'you know there is a great deal of difference between picking up a few stones and working steadily every day, and all day long.' 'But,' said Jem, 'I would work every day, and all day long.' 'Then,' said the lady, 'I will give you work. Come here to-morrow morning, and my gardener will set you to weed the shrubberies, and I will pay you sixpence a day. Remember, you must be at the gates by six o'clock.' Jem bowed, thanked her, and went away.

It was late in the evening, and Jem was impatient to get home to feed Lightfoot; yet he recollected that he had promised the man who had trusted him to sell the fossils, that he would bring him half of what he got for them; so he thought that he had better go to him directly; and away he went, running along by the water-side about a quarter of a mile, till he came to the man's house. He was just come home from work, and was surprised when Jem showed him the half-crown, saying, 'Look what I got for the stones; you are to have half, you know.' 'No,' said the man, when he had heard his story, I shall not take half of that; it was given to you. I expected but a shilling at the most, and the half of that is but sixpence, and that I'll take. 'Wife, give the lad two shillings, and take this half-crown.' So the wife opened an old glove, and took out two shillings; and the man, as she opened the glove, put in his fingers and took out a little silver penny. 'There, he shall have that into the bargain for his honesty – honesty is the best policy – there's a lucky penny for you, that I've kept ever since I can remember.' 'Don't you ever go to part with it, do ye hear!' cried the woman. 'Let him do what he will with it, wife,' said the man. 'But,' argued the wife, 'another penny would do just as well to buy gingerbread; and that's what it will go for.' 'No, that it shall not, I promise you,' said Jem; and so he ran away home, fed Lightfoot, stroked him, went to bed, jumped up at five o'clock in the morning, and went singing to work as gay as a lark.

Four days he worked 'every day and all day long'; and every evening the lady, when she came out to walk in her gardens, looked at his work. At last she said to her gardener, 'This little boy works very hard.' 'Never had so good a little boy about the grounds,' said the gardener; 'he's always at his work, let me come by when I will, and he has got twice as much done as another would do; yes, twice as much, ma'am; for look here – he began at this 'ere rose-bush, and now he's got to where you stand, ma'am; and here is the day's work that t'other boy, and he's three years older too, did to-day – I say, measure Jem's fairly, and it's twice as much, I'm sure.' 'Well,' said the lady to her gardener, 'show me how much is a fair good day's work for a boy of his age.' 'Come at six o'clock and go at six? why, about this much, ma'am,' said the gardener, marking off a piece of the border with his spade.

'Then, little boy,' said the lady, 'so much shall be your task every day. The gardener will mark it off for you; and when you've done, the rest of the day you may do what you please.'

Jem was extremely glad of this; and the next day he had finished his task by four o'clock; so that he had all the rest of the evening to himself. He was as fond of play as any little boy could be; and when he was at it he played with all the eagerness and gaiety imaginable; so as soon as he had finished his task, fed Lightfoot, and put by the sixpence he had earned that day, he ran to the playground in the village, where he found a party of boys playing, and amongst them Lazy Lawrence, who indeed was not playing, but lounging upon a gate, with his thumb in his mouth. The rest were playing at cricket. Jem joined them, and was the merriest and most active amongst them; till, at last, when quite out of breath with running, he was obliged to give up to rest himself, and sat down upon the stile, close to the gate on which Lazy Lawrence was swinging.

'And why don't you play, Lawrence?' said he. 'I'm tired,' said Lawrence. 'Tired of what?' 'I don't know well what tires me; grandmother says I'm ill, and I must take something – I don't know what ails me.' 'Oh, pugh! take a good race – one, two, three, and away – and you'll find yourself as well as ever. Come, run – one, two, three, and away.' 'Ah, no, I can't run, indeed,' said he hanging back heavily; 'you know I can play all day long if I like it, so I don't mind play as you do, who have only one hour for it.' 'So much the worse for you. Come now, I'm quite fresh again, will you have one game at ball? do.' 'No, I tell you I can't; I'm as tired as if I had been working all day long as hard as a horse.' 'Ten times more,' said Jem, 'for I have been working all day long as hard as a horse, and yet you see I'm not a bit tired, only a little out of breath just now.' 'That's very odd,' said Lawrence, and yawned, for want of some better answer; then taking out a handful of halfpence, – 'See what I got from father to-day, because I asked him just at the right time, when he had drunk a glass or two; then I can get anything I want out of him – see! a penny, twopence, threepence, fourpence – there's eightpence in all; would not you be happy if you had eightpence?' 'Why, I don't know,' said Jem, laughing, 'for you don't seem happy, and you have eightpence.' 'That does not signify, though. I'm sure you only say that because you envy me. You don't know what it is to have eightpence. You never had more than twopence or threepence at a time in all your life.'

Jem smiled. 'Oh, as to that,' said he, 'you are mistaken, for I have at this very time more than twopence, threepence, or eightpence either. I have – let me – see – stones, two shillings; then five days' work that's five sixpences, that's two shillings and sixpence; in all, makes four shillings and sixpence; and my silver penny, is four and sevenpence – four and sevenpence!' 'You have not!' said Lawrence, roused so as absolutely to stand upright, 'four and sevenpence, have you? Show it me and then I'll believe you.' 'Follow me, then,' cried Jem, 'and I'll soon make you believe me; come.' 'Is it far?' said Lawrence, following half-running, half-hobbling, till he came to the stable, where Jem showed him his treasure. 'And how did you come by it – honestly?' 'Honestly! to be sure I did; I earned it all.' 'Lord bless me, earned it! well, I've a great mind to work; but then it's such hot weather, besides, grandmother says I'm not strong enough yet for hard work; and besides, I know how to coax daddy out of money when I want it, so I need not work. But four and sevenpence; let's see, what will you do with it all?' 'That's a secret,' said Jem, looking great. 'I can guess; I know what I'd do with it if it was mine. First, I'd buy pocketfuls of gingerbread; then I'd buy ever so many apples and nuts. Don't you love nuts? I'd buy nuts enough to last me from this time to Christmas, and I'd make little Newton crack 'em for me, for that's the worst of nuts, there's the trouble of cracking 'em.' 'Well, you never deserve to have a nut.' 'But you'll give me some of yours,' said Lawrence, in a fawning tone; for he thought it easier to coax than to work – 'you'll give me some of your good things, won't you?' 'I shall not have any of those good things,' said Jem. 'Then, what will you do with all your money?' 'Oh, I know very well what to do with it; but, as I told you, that's a secret, and I shan't tell it anybody. Come now, let's go back and play – their game's up, I daresay.'

Lawrence went back with him, full of curiosity, and out of humour with himself and his eightpence. 'If I had four and sevenpence,' said he to himself, 'I certainly should be happy!'

The next day, as usual, Jem jumped up before six o'clock and went to his work, whilst Lazy Lawrence sauntered about without knowing what to do with himself. In the course of two days he laid out sixpence of his money in apples and gingerbread; and as long as these lasted, he found himself well received by his companions; but at length the third day he spent his last halfpenny, and when it was gone, unfortunately some nuts tempted him very much, but he had no money to pay for them; so he ran home to coax his father, as he called it.

When he got home he heard his father talking very loud, and at first he thought he was drunk; but when he opened the kitchen door, he saw that he was not drunk, but angry.

'You lazy dog!' cried he, turning suddenly upon Lawrence, and gave him such a violent box on the ear as made the light flash from his eyes; 'you lazy dog! See what you've done for me – look! – look, look, I say!'

Lawrence looked as soon as he came to the use of his senses, and with fear, amazement, and remorse beheld at least a dozen bottles burst, and the fine Worcestershire cider streaming over the floor.

'Now, did not I order you three days ago to carry these bottles to the cellar, and did not I charge you to wire the corks? answer me, you lazy rascal; did not I?' 'Yes,' said Lawrence, scratching his head. 'And why was not it done, I ask you?' cried his father, with renewed anger, as another bottle burst at the moment. 'What do you stand there for, you lazy brat? why don't you move, I say? No, no,' catching hold of him, 'I believe you can't move; but I'll make you.' And he shook him till Lawrence was so giddy he could not stand. 'What had you to think of? What had you to do all day long, that you could not carry my cider, my Worcestershire cider, to the cellar when I bid you? But go, you'll never be good for anything; you are such a lazy rascal – get out of my sight!' So saying, he pushed him, out of the house door, and Lawrence sneaked off, seeing that this was no time to make his petition for halfpence.

The next day he saw the nuts again, and wishing for them more than ever, he went home, in hopes that his father, as he said to himself, would be in a better humour. But the cider was still fresh in his recollection; and the moment Lawrence began to whisper the word 'halfpenny' in his ear, his father swore with a loud oath, 'I will not give you a halfpenny, no, not a farthing, for a month to come. If you want money, go work for it; I've had enough of your laziness – go work!'

At these terrible words Lawrence burst into tears, and, going to the side of a ditch, sat down and cried for an hour; and when he had cried till he could cry no more, he exerted himself so far as to empty his pockets, to see whether there might not happen to be one halfpenny left; and, to his great joy, in the farthest corner of his pocket one halfpenny was found. With this he proceeded to the fruit-woman's stall. She was busy weighing out some plums, so he was obliged to wait; and whilst he was waiting he heard some people near him talking and laughing very loud.

The fruit-woman's stall was at the gate of an inn yard; and peeping through the gate in this yard, Lawrence saw a postilion and a stable-boy, about his own size, playing at pitch farthing. He stood by watching them for a few minutes. 'I began but with one halfpenny,' cried the stable-boy, with an oath, 'and now I've got twopence!' added he, jingling the halfpence in his waistcoat pocket. Lawrence was moved at the sound, and said to himself, 'If I begin with one halfpenny I may end, like him, with having twopence; and it is easier to play at pitch farthing than to work.'

So he stepped forward, presenting his halfpenny, offering to toss up with the stable-boy, who, after looking him full in the face, accepted the proposal, and threw his halfpenny into the air. 'Head or tail?' cried he. 'Head,' replied Lawrence, and it came up head. He seized the penny, surprised at his own success, and would have gone instantly to have laid it out in nuts; but the stable-boy stopped him, and tempted him to throw it again. This time Lawrence lost; he threw again and won; and so he went on, sometimes losing, but most frequently winning, till half the morning was lost. At last, however, finding himself the master of three halfpence, he said he would play no more.

The stable-boy, grumbling, swore he would have his revenge another time, and Lawrence went and bought his nuts. 'It is a good thing,' said he to himself, 'to play at pitch farthing; the next time I want a halfpenny I'll not ask my father for it, nor go to work neither.' Satisfied with this resolution, he sat down to crack his nuts at his leisure, upon the horse-block in the inn yard. Here, whilst he ate, he overheard the conversation of the stable-boys and postilions. At first their shocking oaths and loud wrangling frightened and shocked him; for Lawrence, though lazy, had not yet learned to be a wicked boy. But, by degrees, he was accustomed to the swearing and quarrelling, and took a delight and interest in their disputes and battles. As this was an amusement which he could enjoy without any sort of exertion, he soon grew so fond of it, that every day he returned to the stable yard, and the horse-block became his constant seat. Here he found some relief from the insupportable fatigue of doing nothing, and here, hour after hour, with his elbows on his knees and his head on his hands, he sat, the spectator of wickedness. Gaming, cheating, and lying soon became familiar to him; and, to complete his ruin, he formed a sudden and close intimacy with the stable-boy (a very bad boy) with whom he had first begun to game.

The consequences of this intimacy we shall presently see. But it is now time to inquire what little Jem had been doing all this while.

One day, after Jem had finished his task, the gardener asked him to stay a little while, to help him to carry some geranium pots into the hall. Jem, always active and obliging, readily stayed from play, and was carrying in a heavy flower pot, when his mistress crossed the hall. 'What a terrible litter!' said she, 'you are making here – why don't you wipe your shoes upon the mat?' Jem turned to look for the mat, but he saw none. 'Oh,' said the lady, recollecting herself, 'I can't blame you, for there is no mat.' 'No, ma'am,' said the gardener, 'nor I don't know when, if ever, the man will bring home those mats you bespoke, ma'am.' 'I am very sorry to hear that,' said the lady; 'I wish we could find somebody who would do them, if he can't. I should not care what sort of mats they were, so that one could wipe one's feet on them.'

Jem, as he was sweeping away the litter, when he heard these last words, said to himself, 'Perhaps I could make a mat.' And all the way home, as he trudged along whistling, he was thinking over a scheme for making mats, which, however bold it may appear, he did not despair of executing, with patience and industry. Many were the difficulties which his 'prophetic eye' foresaw; but he felt within himself that spirit which spurs men on to great enterprises, and makes them 'trample on impossibilities.' In the first place, he recollected that he had seen Lazy Lawrence, whilst he lounged upon the gate, twist a bit of heath into different shapes; and he thought that, if he could find some way of plaiting heath firmly together, it would make a very pretty green, soft mat, which would do very well for one to wipe one's shoes on. About a mile from his mother's house, on the common which Jem rode over when he went to Farmer Truck's for the giant strawberries, he remembered to have seen a great quantity of this heath; and, as it was now only six o'clock in the evening, he knew that he should have time to feed Lightfoot, stroke him, go to the common, return, and make one trial of his skill before he went to bed.