Part 2

Poor Jemima, who had never disagreed with her brothers, nor been witness to such a scene in her life, was terrified to see them engage with a degree of violence which threatened them with essential hurt. She endeavoured to appease their fury, and ventured, after she had stood still for some time between two chairs, to try if, by catching hold of one of their hands, she could be able to part them; but they only gave her some blows, and said, She had no business in their quarrel! She then retired to the farther part of the room, and ardently wished herself at home. When spying another fire-place under the table, she took it up with good-natured transport, and running to Miss Piner, told her, There was one for her; which she hoped would put an end to the dispute. This, however, proved to be the property of Miss Sally, who declared, in her turn, that her sister should not touch any of her play-things; and finding she was not strong enough to retain it, she threw it with all her force to the other end of the room, and unfortunately hit Miss Placid a blow with one of the sharp corners, just above her temple. This at once put an end to the battle, for the blood immediately trickled down her cheek, and alarmed the two sisters, who, forgetting the subject of the debate, began to be uneasy at the effects of it; only Ellen, who considered herself as more innocent (merely because she had not been the immediate cause of the accident), with a recriminating air, said, There, miss, you have done it now; You have killed your cousin, I believe! Jemima, though in a great deal of pain, and much frightened, did not cry; as she seldom shed tears, unless from sensibility, or at parting with her friends. She held her handkerchief to the place, and became more alarmed, in proportion as she saw it covered with blood; till at last, finding it was beyond their art to stop the effusion, Ellen, with trembling steps, went up stairs to tell the servant of their misfortune. Dinah, which was the maid's name, had been so often accustomed to find her young ladies in mischief, that she did not descend in very good-humour, and upon her entrance exclaimed, That they were all the naughtiest girls in the world! without inquiring how the accident happened, or making any exception to the innocence of Jemima, who could only again most sincerely wish to be once more at Smiledale with her mamma. Dinah, after washing her temple with vinegar, which made it smart very much (though she did not complain), told them, They had been so naughty that they should not go to play any more; nor would she hear Miss Placid's justification, but crossly interrupted her, by saying, Hold your tongue, child! and do not want to get into mischief again; for my mistress will make a fine piece of work, I suppose, about what you have done already!--Jemima was too much awed, by the ill-nature of her looks and the anger of her expressions, to vindicate her conduct any farther; but quietly sitting down, she comforted herself with the reflection, that her displeasure was undeserved, and that to fret at what she could not avoid, would not make her more happy; and therefore, with great good humour, took up a bit of paper, which contained the rough drawing of a little horse, which Charles had given her on the day of her departure, and which she had since carefully preserved.

In justice to Mrs. Dinah, I must here observe, that she was not naturally ill-natured; but the Miss Piners were so frequently naughty, as to give her a great deal of trouble, and tire out her patience; and their mamma, by not taking the proper methods to subdue the errors of their dispositions, had made them so refractory, that it soured her own temper, and occasioned her to blame her servants for the consequence of those faults which it was her duty to have prevented. So you see, my dear Eliza, from such instances, how mistaken is that indulgence, which, by gratifying the humours of children, will make them impatient and vindictive, unhappy in themselves, and a trouble to every one with whom they are connected. The amiable Jemima was always contented and good-humoured, even when she was not in a state agreeable to her wishes; and, by learning to submit to what she did not like, when it could not be altered, she obtained the love of every body who knew her, and passed through life with less trouble than people usually experience; for, by making it a rule to comply with her situation, she always enjoyed the comforts it afforded, and suffered as little as possible from its inconvenience. In the present case, her cousins, by their ill-temper and fretfulness, had quarrelled with each other; and when Dinah would not let them play, as indeed they justly deserved to be punished, they did nothing but grumble and cry the whole day; and were so conscious of their bad behaviour, as to be afraid of seeing their mamma; while Miss Placid, serene in her own innocence, entertained herself for some time with looking at the horse above-mentioned, and afterwards with pricking it, till Dinah set her at liberty; which, seeing her good temper, she soon did, and gave her besides some pretty pictures to look at, and some fruit to eat, of all which her cousins were deprived. By the next morning Jemima's temple had turned black; and Mrs. Piner inquired how she had hurt herself? She coloured at the question with some confusion, not willing to inform her aunt of any thing to Miss Sally's disadvantage; but as she was too honest to say any thing but the truth, she begged Mrs. Piner would not be angry if she informed her; which she having promised, Jemima told her; adding, that her cousin had no intention to hurt her.

Mrs. Piner kissed and commended Jemima very much; and Dinah having likewise given a high account of her goodness, she told her daughters she was much displeased with them; but in consequence of their cousin's intercession, would not punish them that time, and desired them for the future to imitate her example.

As soon as breakfast was over, they were dismissed to school, while Jemima remained with her aunt; who, after having heard her read, gave her a handkerchief to hem, which she sat down by her to do; and when she had done work, very prettily entered into conversation.--I should be much obliged to you, madam (said she), as I do not know my way about London, if you would go with me to buy some things for my brothers, which I promised to carry back when I return. I have got some money to pay for them, for Charles gave me a six-pence, and three halfpence, and a farthing; and William gave me three-pence; and I have got a silver-penny, and a two-pence of my own, all screwed safely in a little red box.

Mrs. Piner inquired what the articles were which she wished to purchase, and smiled on perusing the list which Charles had written.--And pray, my dear, said she, how do you intend to carry the coach-whip, for you will not be able conveniently to pack it up; and as to the skates, I do not think your papa would choose your brothers should make use of them till they are much older, as they are very dangerous, and particularly so to little boys. The other things I will endeavour to procure, and you shall take a walk with me to buy the books, and choose them yourself, and I will pay for them; so you may save your money in the little box, for you are a very good girl, and therefore deserve to meet with encouragement. Jemima thanked her aunt for her kind intentions, and said, if she could get a coach-whip, she thought she could carry it to Smiledale in her hand; and as her brothers were always kind to her, she wished to do every thing in her power to oblige them.

The next day was to be a holiday at her cousins' school, on account of their dancing-master's ball, to which Miss Piners were invited; and Mrs. Piner had promised Jemima she should be of the party. They rose in the morning with the pleasing hopes of enjoying a dance in the evening; and Ellen went a dozen times in the day to look at her new cap, wishing it was time to put it on (for she was a silly, vain girl), and was so foolish as to imagine herself of more consequence, because she was better dressed than other children.--O Miss Placid! said she, you will look so dowdy to-night in your plain muslin frock, while all the rest of the ladies will wear either gauze frocks or silk coats full trimmed. Have you seen how handsome our dresses will be? Do pray look at them, added she, opening the drawer, and extending the silk, and then, glad of an excuse to survey it, she went to a box, and taking out her cap, held it on her hand, turning it round and round with a degree of pride and pleasure, which was very silly.

Jemima good-naturedly admired her cousin's finery, without wishing for any addition to her own. I am sure, replied she, my mamma has provided what is proper for me; and is so kind as to afford me every thing necessary; and my frocks are always clean, and will do extremely well for the present occasion, or else my aunt would have bought me another.--But should not you like such a cap? said Miss Ellen, putting it on Jemima's head: you look very pretty in it, indeed!--No, I think it is too large for me, returned Miss Placid; and there is a piece of wire in it, which scratches when you press it down; you should alter that, or it will be very uncomfortable.--In short, the ball was the only subject of conversation during the whole day; and although Miss Piner felt an uncommon head-ach and sickness, yet she would not complain, for fear her mamma should think proper to leave her at home. The pain, however, increased greatly, and she frequently left the parlour to give vent to her complaints, and avoid her mamma's notice. The heaviness of her eyes, and alternate change of countenance from pale to red, at last took Mrs. Piner's attention, and she tenderly inquired after her health; but Ellen affected to treat her indisposition as a trifle; though, as she was by no means patient in general, she would at any other time have made incessant complaints. She attempted to laugh and play, but to no purpose, for her illness became too violent to be suppressed; however, upon her papa's hinting at dinner that she seemed to have no appetite, and had better (if not well) go to-bed, she forced herself, against her inclination, to eat some meat and pudding, and went up afterwards to conceal her uneasiness, and put on her clothes; thinking, that if she was in readiness it would be an additional reason for her going. But alas! so foolish is vanity, and so insignificant are outward ornaments, that when Miss Ellen was decked out in the gauze frock which had so long engaged her thoughts, she felt such a degree of uneasiness from her sickness, as to make her disregard what she had before wished for with such ill-placed ardour.

Having eaten more than was proper for her stomach in such a disordered state, it increased her illness very much; but being determined to go, though her mamma advised her to the contrary, and pretending she was somewhat better, she stepped into the coach, the motion of which soon produced a most terrible catastrophe; and before she could speak for assistance, occasioned such a violent sickness, as totally spoiled her own and her cousin's clothes, who sat opposite to her; nor did Sally's quite escape the disaster; for as she had spread them over Jemima, with an intent to display their beauties, they shared in part that calamity which had so unfortunately overtaken the others.

Mrs. Piner, though she was grieved at her daughter's indisposition, was likewise extremely angry at the consequence of her obstinacy.--If you had stayed at home, as I bade you, said she, somewhat angrily, nothing of this would have happened! and pulling the check-string, added, We must turn about, coachman, for we cannot proceed in this condition!--Sally, notwithstanding her sister's illness, continually teazed her mamma, to know whether they should go when Ellen was set down, and her own dress wiped; without attending to her sister's complaints. When the carriage reached Mr. Piner's, he came himself hastily to the door, to know what accident had occasioned their unexpected return; and upon being informed, lifted poor Ellen into the house, while her sister declared she would not walk in-doors, as she wanted to go to the ball. Dinah was, however, called down, and with much resistance conveyed the young lady crying and kicking up stairs.

Jemima stood by unnoticed in the general confusion, and Miss Piner was undressed with the utmost expedition, and sincerely rejoiced to be rid of the incumbrance of that finery which in another situation would have excited her envy. Our little Heroine, whose sense as well as serenity was uncommon, reflected, that gay clothes must certainly in themselves be of little value, since they could not prevent the approach of disease, or suspend for a moment the attacks of pain; that the pleasure they bestowed, as it was ill-founded, was likewise extremely transient, as Sally's passion on her disappointment was sufficient to prove; since she was now mortified in proportion as she had before been elated. And though her sister's reflexions were, for the present, suspended by the violence of pain, yet her vexation, when she was restored to the ability of contemplating the state of her clothes, would be equally poignant, and without remedy.

While Miss Placid, in obedience to her aunt, took off the frock which had suffered so much in its short journey, Sally sat screaming and crying in an easy chair, into which she had thrown herself, declaring she would go! and pushed Dinah away as often as she attempted to take out a pin. Nor would she be pacified by any endeavours which were used to please and amuse her; till her mamma, quite tired with her noise and ill-humour, declared she would send word to her governess the next morning, if she did not do what she was desired; upon which threat she submitted to be undressed; but petulantly threw every article of her attire upon the ground, and afterwards sat down in one of the windows in sullen silence, without deigning an answer to any question that was proposed to her. Jemima was as much disappointed as her cousin could be, and had formed very high expectations of the pleasure she should receive at the ball; but she had been always accustomed to submit to unavoidable accidents without repining, and to make herself happy with those amusements in her power, when she was deprived of what she might wish for, but could not procure.

Some time after this, Mr. Steward, a gentleman who lived at Smiledale, came up to town about business, and called upon Mr. Piner with an intention of seeing Miss Jemima, who was much distressed that she happened to be absent, as she wished to hear some news of her papa and brothers. However, he returned again the next day, and Miss Placid very gracefully paid her respects to him, and inquired after the friends she had left. He satisfied her as to their health, and presented her with a letter from her brother Charles, which, as soon as she could find an opportunity, she retired to read. The contents were as follow:--

To MISS PLACID.

MY DEAR SISTER;

As William writes so very slowly, and as papa does not think he should scribble at all, he has desired me to inform you of every thing that has passed since you left us. And first I must acquaint you with a sad accident, which will render one of your commissions useless. Poor Hector, the day after you went away, was lost for several hours. We went to every house in the village, and hunted behind every tomb in the church-yard; called, Hector! Hector! through all the fields, and then returned and sought him in our own garden again; looked under the bench in the poultry-yard, nay, even in the cellar and coal-hole; but no Hector returned. We sat down together on the bottom stair in the hall, and William cried ready to break his heart. Papa said he was sorry; but told us our tears would not bring him back, and advised us to bear the loss of him with more fortitude; took William on his lap, and read a story to divert him. We got tolerably cheerful, and went down to tea; but as soon as my brother took up his bread and butter, the thoughts of Hector always jumping up to him for a bit, and how he would bark, and snap in play at his fingers, quite overcame his firmness, and he could not touch a morsel. Well, to make short of the story, the next morning John came in and told papa, that 'Squire Sutton's game-keeper, not knowing to whom he belonged, had shot him for running after the deer.--Why now, said I, if he had but stayed away from the park till Jemima had brought him a collar, he would not have been killed. Poor Hector! I shall hate Ben Hunt as long as I live for it.--Fie, Charles! said my father.--Hector is dead, Sir, said I; and I did not then stay to hear any farther. But since that, we have talked a great deal about love and forgiveness; and I find I must love Ben Hunt, even though I now see poor Hector's tomb in the garden. For John went to fetch him, and we buried him under the lilac-tree, on the right hand side, just by the large sun-flower; and we cried a great deal, and made a card tomb-stone over his grave; and papa gave us an old hat-band, and we cut it into pieces, and we went as mourners. His coffin was carried by Tom Wood, the carpenter's son, whose father was so kind as to make it for us; while James Stavely (the clerk's nephew), my brother, and I, followed as chief mourners; and old Nurse and Peggy put on their black hoods, which they had when Jane Thompson died, and went with us; and we had the kitchen table-cloth for a pall, with the old black wrapper put over it which used to cover the parrot's cage; but we did not read any thing, for that would not have been right; as you know, after all, he was but a dog. Papa, however, to please us, wrote the following epitaph, which I very carefully transcribed, and affixed over his grave:--

Here Hector lies, more bless'd by far, Than he who drove the victor's car; Who once Patroclus did subdue, And suffer'd for the conquest too. Like him, o'ercome by cruel fate, Stern fortune's unrelenting hate; An equal doom severe he found, And Hunt inflicts the deadly wound. Less cruel than Pelides, he His manes were pursuits to be; And satisfied to see him fall, Ne'er dragg'd him round the Trojan wall.

I am very sorry for the poor fellow's untimely end; and so, I dare say, you will be.--Our rabbit has kindled; and we have one in particular the skin of which is white, with black spots, the prettiest I ever saw, and which we have called Jemima, and will give it to you when you return.--Peggy has sprained her ancle, by a fall down stairs. I forgot my wooden horse, and left it in the way; and she came down in the dark, and stumbled over it. I was very sorry, and my papa was much displeased, as it is what he has so often cautioned us against.--Jack Dough, the baker's boy, brought me a linnet yesterday, which I have placed in a cage near your canary-bird; who is very well.--I do not think I have much more to say, for writing is such tedious work that I am quite tired, though what I have done has been a fortnight in hand. I have a great many things which I want to tell you if we could meet; and I should wish to know how you like London. Good bye! William desires his love to you, and bids me say, that he, as well as myself, will ever be

Your affectionate Brother, CHARLES PLACID.

P. S. Inclosed I have sent you a sketch of Hector's funeral procession, which your favourite, Ned Kindly, who was one of the party, drew on purpose for you.

You may be sure that the intelligence of Hector's death gave Jemima some uneasiness; more especially, as at the first time Mr. Steward had called, she was out with her aunt, and actually purchased a collar for him; which, before the receipt of her letter, she had contemplated with great satisfaction, in the idea of having so well executed her brothers' commission, and the pleasure it would afford them.

When Miss Placid had been in town about four months, and her mamma was returned from Bristol, Mr. Placid came up to fetch her home, and invited her cousins to accompany her to Smiledale, promising to take great care of them, and to teach them to read and write; and that Mrs. Placid would instruct them in every other part of their learning. To which Mr. and Mrs. Piner consented. The pleasure which Jemima felt at seeing her papa after so long an absence, can be better imagined than described. She looked at him with such transport, that the tears started to her eyes; and wanting words to declare the feelings of her heart, could only express her joy by stroking and kissing his hand, as she sat on a stool by his side; and pressing it with fervor between both hers, she exclaimed, that she was glad to see him. Her uncle and aunt gave her the highest praise for her good-behaviour, and assured her papa, that they had never, during the whole time of her visit, seen her once out of humour, or at all fretful upon any occasion. Mr. Placid said he was extremely happy to hear so good an account of his little girl; but that he expected every thing amiable from the sweetness of her disposition; adding, it would be very strange if she had behaved otherwise with you, as, I assure you, she is at all times equally tractable and engaging. The evening before her departure, her aunt was so obliging as to present her with a new doll, which she had taken great pains to dress, and had made for it two dimity petticoats, with a nice pair of stays, a pink sattin coat, and a muslin frock. She had likewise purchased some cotton stockings, and a pair of red shoes with white roses, white gloves tied with pink strings, and a gauze cap with pink sattin ribbons. Jemima, with a graceful courtesy, paid her acknowledgments to Mrs. Piner for that favour, and all the kind attentions she had received since she had been in town, and saw it packed up with great care in a box by itself; pleasing herself with the joy it would afford her, to show it to her mamma. She then busied herself in putting up the Indian glue, and a great quantity of pictures which had been given her; poor Hector's collar, and several books which she had bought and had already perused with much delight, particularly A Course of Lectures for Sunday Evenings; The Village School, and Perambulation of a Mouse, 2 vols. each; together with the First Principles of Religion, and the Adventures of a Pincushion. All these mighty volumes she took with her to Smiledale, and Mr. Placid was so much pleased with them, as to send for an additional supply to present to his friends. As to the skates, he had desired her not to think about them as he should by no means approve of her brothers' using them; nor would they have occasion for a coach-whip; but as he knew Charles had broken his bat, she might carry him one instead. Jemima entreated permission to convey to them a drum, as she thought it would be a play-thing they would much enjoy; to this he immediately consented, and went himself to procure one.