THE FOURTH LETTER.
ILL TEMPER.
_For George._
"DEAR GEORGE:--You know you are now nearly seventeen years old, andquite a patriarch in the Nightcap family; and I am rejoiced that I cansay with truth, that you have been, and are, a most excellent elderbrother, unselfish, sweet-tempered, and always setting a good example."
"Dear me," interrupted George, laughing and blushing very much, "I donot deserve such high praise;" but here the expression of his facechanged, his lip began to tremble, and running up to his mother, hekissed her, and said--"Whatever I am that is good, you, dear mother,have made me."
"With God's help and blessing, my dear son," said his mother, returningthe kiss; and then she went on reading.
"When you were a little fellow, of not quite seven years, you had thescarlet fever, and were very ill; and perhaps you remember how cross youwere for a long time after."
"Oh, yes," exclaimed George; "mother used to say somebody else must havejumped into my skin, for, certainly, I was not the same George."
"I have written a story about this change in temper, and how a cure waseffected. _You_ became sweet-tempered again, as soon as you got quitewell; but Arthur, in my story, required a lesson and some punishment, ashe became cross without scarlet fever, rhyme, or reason. I hope you willlet me know if you think I have invented a good plan to cure across-patch. You know I am a great believer in our always trying firstupon _ourselves_, what we propose to '_do to others_,' as the very bestway of finding out if we would like the same '_done to us_.'"
"Why, that's the 'golden rule!'" cried little Minnie; and now thechildren settled themselves, and eagerly listened to the followingstory:
ILL TEMPER.
"When Arthur was about seven years old, he was one of the very best boysto be found in a long summer's day. In the morning he would spring outof bed with a bright smile, wash and dress himself quickly, with thehelp of Mary, his kind nurse, say his prayers slowly and reverently,(ah! _that_ was the secret of his goodness!) and then all day long hewould be so obliging and good-tempered, that no one could help lovinghim that knew him; and so they didn't try to help it, for everybodyloved him dearly.
"But, alas! I have heard the doctors say, (and of course _they_ mustknow,) that once in every seven years the whole body is renewed, flesh,bones, blood, nerves, muscles; and I grieve to have to relate, that inArthur's case the change seemed to include his spirit-part also; thatis, his good temper and loving ways marched out of him, and some verybad substitutes marched in, as I shall proceed to relate.
"One morning Arthur awoke at his usual hour, but not with his usualsmile. His face was all puckered up like a frozen apple. He flounderedabout the bed, and bumped his head against the head-board, and was justas cross as forty bears.
"Of course every thing went wrong; he put his stockings on wrongsideout, tied his shoes in a hard knot, pulled on his pantaloons with theback part before, and drew his arms through his jacket upside down. Didyou ever hear of such a piece of work?
"When Mary came to brush his hair and wash his face, he screamed out,stamping his foot at her--'Do stop! Stop! I tell you! You brush me ashard as ever you can! I wish you would leave me alone, you ugly oldthing!'
"Oh, dear, dear, what a sad boy! He puts me in mind of that othernaughty boy who scolded his nurse in a piece of poetry. This is it:
"'Oh _why_ must my face be washed so clean, And scrubbed and scoured for Sunday? When you know very well, as you've always seen, 'Twill be dirty again on Monday.
"'My hair is stiff with the hateful soap, That behind my ears is dripping; My smarting eyes, I'm afraid to ope, And my lips the suds are sipping.
"'They're down my throat, and they're up my nose, And to choke me you seem to be trying, That I'll shut my mouth, you needn't suppose, For how can I keep from crying?
"'And you rub as hard as ever you can, And your hands are hard, to my sorrow; No woman shall wash me, when I'm a man, And I wish I was one to-morrow.'
"But at last Arthur went sulking down to breakfast, _forgetting to sayhis prayers_; and taking his seat at the table, whined out, the veryfirst thing--'Just look at this piece of toast; it is all burnt, and ashard as a stone. I won't have it!' Then he tasted his coffee, andexclaimed--'Pooh! what coffee! perfect slops!'
"His mother was grieved to see him acting so naughtily, and said,gently--'I am sorry, Arthur, you are not pleased; will you have an egg?'
"Arthur cracked an egg with his teaspoon, looked at it, threw it down,and turning up his nose with disdain, said--'Eggs! Brickbats you mean!they have been boiling all night.'
"This exhibition of ill temper distressed his mother exceedingly, butshe did not say any thing to him then; being a woman of excellent sense,she formed a plan in her mind which she hoped would effect a cure.
"Arthur was an only child. His parents were rich, and they preferredthat he should be educated at home; they feared his learning evil aswell as good at a large school. Hitherto this plan had been verysuccessful, for Arthur was as studious and obedient as his tutors couldpossibly wish; and this sudden and sad change made all around himunhappy. I will give you a history of one of these miserable days.
"On this morning, his tutor arrived, as usual, at nine o'clock; andcommenced by giving his pupil a lesson in penmanship. There was anominous scowl on Arthur's face. He twitched his copy-book before him,pretended he could not find a good pen, scratched and blotted the paperfrom top to bottom, and so, when the lesson was finished, the page wasa sight to behold.
"'You have not tried to write well,' said his master, mildly.
"'My pen was abominable, and the paper was greasy,' said Arthur,sulkily.
"'A bad workman always pretends that his _tools_ are to blame,' said themaster.
"'Oh, dear me! you are never satisfied! If I write too lightly, you sayit looks as if a spider had scampered over the paper with inky legs; ifI bear on harder, you ask me how much horse power I have put on to makesuch heavy strokes. I don't know what to do! I don't! You are alwaysgrumbling.'
"'Oh, no! not always, for here are a great many pages on which I havewritten, "Very well; very well, indeed."'
"'That was only by chance,' said Arthur.
"'But if these chances do not always occur, whose fault is it?'
"'Oh, mine! I suppose you mean to say,' answered Arthur, pettishly.
"'Well, my dear boy, only look at your writing to-day. It resembles acompany of soldiers, each of whom carries his musket to suit himself,this one to the right, that to the left, a third horizontally, a fourthperpendicularly, and all the rest of the letters with broken backs andcrooked legs. Just look at it!'
"'Oh, dear! you are always mocking me,' whined Arthur. 'One would thinkI did it all on purpose. Oh, dear me!'
"At last this lesson came to an end; but the others were no better, andthe poor master went away with his temper sorely tried, sadlyremembering the happy and good little Arthur of the year before.
"In the afternoon, his mother said, in a pleasant tone, 'Come, dearArthur, come and take a walk with me; it is such a lovely day; therobins are singing in the trees; and look, how fast the delicate whiteclouds are sailing through the air! Come, dear.'
"'It isn't pleasant! and I can't _bear_ robins,' said Arthur.
"His mother sighed and went alone.
"Left at home, Arthur tried to amuse himself. He got out his puzzle, ordissected map of the United States; but as ill-tempered people arenever patient or gentle, in a very little while he had cracked SouthCarolina nearly in two, snapped off the top of Maryland, broken New Yorkinto three pieces, and made mince-meat of the Union generally, which wasa very shocking thing to do, even on a dissected map; and then, thecross boy ended by throwing all the States into the black coal-scuttle.
"After this he tried to read; but nothing seemed to amuse him.
From'Robinson Crusoe' he went to the 'Rollo Books,' and from those to'Nightcaps,' and declared they were all stupid alike, 'a perfect pack ofnonsense!'
"As a last resource, he called Jumbo, his big cat, who was so fond ofArthur, that he would let him do just what he pleased with him, thatis, as long as his little master was kind; but to-day he pinched hisears, and pulled his tail, and twitched his whiskers at such a rate,that poor Jumbo puckered up his face like a pudding-bag, and squalledlike a first-class opera singer.
"'The bad old thing!' exclaimed Arthur. 'I declare, he ought to bedrowned! I'll never play with him again. Scat! scat! get out!' and offscampered poor Jumbo, and hid himself behind the kitchen door.
"All this time you are wondering his mother did not punish him. Wait alittle. Just read to the end, and then tell me what you think of hermode of punishment. I shall wish very much to know if you approve ofit.
"One evening, after Arthur had gone to bed, his father and mother had along consultation with each other about the best way of curing Arthur'sill temper; and they agreed upon a plan his mother had thought of duringthe day.
"The next morning came, when the trial was to be made. Every onereceived his or her instructions from Arthur's mother, and were quiteready to begin the new mode of punishment.
"But, for a wonder, on this particular morning Arthur awoke feeling verypleasant and amiable. Never mind, he was to receive his lesson all thesame.
"While Mary was helping him to dress, she seemed very snappish andimpatient.
ARTHUR'S MOTHER TELLING HER PLAN.]
"'Do, for goodness sake, keep still, Master Arthur!' she said; 'you arealways fidgeting and fussing.'
"'_I?_' said Arthur, laughing. 'Why, I've been as still as a mouse!'
"Mary was silent for a moment, but presently she exclaimed--'Howcarelessly you have washed your hands, your shirt is all wet. I haveshown you how to wash without splashing a hundred times. You worry mylife out!'
"'I _tried_ to do as you told me,' said Arthur, with a little sigh.
"'Oh, fiddlesticks! don't tell _me_! You are a terrible boy!' and Marybounced out of the room, banging the door behind her.
"Arthur went down to breakfast, and ran up to his mother to tell herabout Mary. 'I think _she_ was "terrible,"' he said. 'What could be thematter with her, mamma?'
"'Perhaps she was indulging in ILL TEMPER,' answered his mother,significantly.
"When they sat down to breakfast there was no toast.
"'I should like a piece of toast,' said Arthur.
"His mother rang a little bell, and the cook came in. She looked firstat the mistress, with a peculiar smile, and then she looked at Arthur.
"'Margaret,' said he, 'there is no toast.'
"'I know it, Master Arthur; it was too brown; and you are so hard tosuit, that I did not dare to serve it.'
"'_I_ hard to suit?' cried Arthur, who seemed to have forgotten what anaughty boy he had been. '_I_ hard to suit? Not at all. If the toast_is_ a little too brown, I don't mind it. Give it to me, Margaret.'
"'I threw it away,' said the cook.
"'Oh, well, I'm in no hurry; I will wait while you make me anotherpiece.'
"'My fire has gone out,' said the cook.
"'Well, you can re-light it, can't you?'
"'Do you think I have nothing to do but to wait upon you?' cried thecook. 'You know nothing ever suits you; and you always speak rudely tome;' and she flounced out of the room.
"'How _can_ she say so, mamma?' cried Arthur. '_I_ speak rudely to her?Why, I was as polite as ever I could be. It is too bad!'
"'Servants find it very hard to attend upon you, Arthur. They areaccustomed to polite treatment from the rest of us.'
"'Well--but mamma--to accuse me to-day, when it was _she_ who'--
"'Was indulging in ILL-TEMPER,' interrupted his mother.
"_Arthur understood_, and was silent.
"The hour for his grammar lesson had now arrived. The tutor bowed toArthur's mother, smiled, and commenced:
"'Do you _know_ your lessons, my young friend?'
"'I have studied them, sir.'
"'Do you _know_ them? It is of little consequence that you have studiedthem, if you do not know them.'
"'I believe I do, sir.'
"'Well, let us see--begin.'
"'In the _tenses_,' began Arthur a little embarrassed, 'we shoulddistinguish the _moods_ and the verbs.'
"'Nonsense! you should have said, "In the _verbs_ we should distinguishthe moods and the tenses."'
"'Yes, sir, that is what I _meant_ to say; I knew that, but my tongueslipped.'
"'Your tongue slips very often. Continue'--
"Arthur, still more embarrassed, said--'We should also distinguish the_moods_ and the persons.'
"'You must be demented! What have the moods to do in that sentence?Perhaps you are expecting a visit from the man in the moon, and thatmakes you talk such nonsense. The grammar says--"We should distinguishthe _numbers_ and the persons." Your tongue does nothing but slip; youdo not know your lesson.'
"'Excuse me, sir; I do know it.'
"'You are not respectful, Master Arthur,' said the teacher in a cold,severe tone.
"'But, sir'--
"'When a boy knows his lesson he does not make such abominable blundersin reciting.'
"'But, sir, you troubled me; you put me out.'
"'_I_ trouble you? A very singular excuse, and a very poor one. Come,let me look at your composition.'
"But here matters became worse and worse. The master 'pshawed,' andfrowned, and grumbled to himself. 'No application! no thought! badspelling! bad grammar! a perfect mass of faults!'
"Arthur grew red and pale by turns, as his teacher wrote right acrossthe page in large letters: 'A composition so badly done, that it isimpossible to correct it.'
"Then he rose coldly, looking very grim, took his hat, and addressingArthur's mother, said--'Madam, I cannot consent to teach your son anylonger; I have so little success, that I feel I have no right to thevery liberal salary you have accorded me. Another, perhaps, will dobetter.'
"'Oh, sir! no! pray, don't go!' exclaimed Arthur; 'I will try to dobetter! indeed, I will! upon my word and honor I will. I love you, sir!'
"A pleasant light suddenly came into the teacher's eyes, and a softsmile passed like lightning over his lips.
"'Do, please, give me your hand, sir,' said Arthur, 'and promise me thatyou will continue to teach me.'
"His broad, black eyebrows immediately contracted into a great frown;and he said gruffly--'Very well, I will try you once more,' and left theroom.
"For a few moments there was silence; then a distressed expression cameover Arthur's face, as he said--'Mamma, my teacher was very--(he was ata loss for a word) very _singular_ with me to-day--don't you think so,mamma?'
"'What do you mean by _singular_?'
"'Why, not as he usually is--not at all.'
"'His reproofs seemed perfectly just to me; you were not perfect in yourlessons.'
"'Well, mamma, I do not deny that; but at all other times he has been sokind and patient, and never treated me with such unexpected severity.'
"'Ah!' said his mother, 'I am afraid, then, that this morning he wasindulging in ILL TEMPER.'
"Arthur hung his head, and was silent: his conscience was busywhispering to him, and the rest of the morning passed painfully; butafter luncheon, he prepared for a walk with joy, for the day was lovely,and the air exhilarating.
"But all at once the sky became overcast, and very soon after the rainfell in torrents.
"'Oh, dear me, how tiresome!' cried Arthur, 'just when I am going totake a walk; it is perfectly hateful.'
"'God sends the rain,' said his mother, gently.
"Arthur hung his head again without answering. What could he say,indeed? But with his new resolution strong in his mind, he determinedto bear this disappointment with patience; and he called Jumbo to playwith him.
"But the cat, usually so quick to come purring to his knee, remain
edjust where he was, as if he had been suddenly struck deaf, and dumb, andblind. Arthur went to him, and tried to take him in his arms; but hehissed at his playmate, and scampered away with his back and tail highin the air, and hid under the sofa.
"'Ah me!' sighed Arthur, 'I suppose Jumbo is like the rest; he isindulging in ILL TEMPER, too.'
"'Not quite that,' observed his mother; 'but animals have _memories_.'
"'I think you had better say that they are spiteful, mamma.'
"'Perhaps they are, my son; but they have no reason, while _we_ arecapable of controlling our impatience, and governing our passions, if weask God to help us.'
"Upon this Arthur fairly broke down; and, bursting into tears, sobbedout--'Oh, dear mamma, I understand the lesson I have received from everyone to-day. Do believe that I will try with all my strength to conquermy ill temper: I promise you. Do, please mamma, forgive me.'
"His mother wound her loving arms around her son, and tenderly kissedhim, and said--'I forgive you, my dear child, with all my heart, and wewill both pray to our Heavenly Father to send down His Holy Spirit toguide and direct your efforts to do right. You have borne yourdisappointments to-day with patience and resignation; and I feel thatyou will soon be the good, sweet-tempered boy, you were a year ago.'
"Arthur kept his promise, and whenever he was tempted to give a crossanswer, or get in a passion, he was sure to remember in time thecelebrated day when everybody, by his mother's instructions, attemptedhis cure, by showing him, in their own persons, the unlovelyconsequences of indulging in
ILL TEMPER."
* * * * *
"What a nice story!" exclaimed the children, "and what a good way ofcuring Arthur--better than a hundred whippings. When we do any thingbad, mamma, you must punish us Aunt Fanny's way. Couldn't you punish usfor something now?"
The little mother laughed at this comical request, and said--"I can'tthink of any thing just now to punish you for; and I hope you don't wantto do any thing naughty on purpose."
"O dear, no!" cried the children, but George, with a good-humoredtwinkle in his eye, added--"At any rate, mamma, the next time Harry putssalt into the sugar-bowl, and makes me spoil my coffee, I intend to putpowdered sugar into the salt-cellar for him to sprinkle over his stewedoysters."
"Oh, do!" cried all the children; "only think of oysters and sugar!perfectly dreadful!"
"'Well,' said Harry, laughing, 'I shall have to buy a snuff-box, then,and keep it in my pocket full of salt.'
"'But don't forget yourself,' said Anna, 'and politely offer a pinch ofit to the first old lady you meet; she might think you meant to play atrick upon her, you know.'
"'What an idea!' cried Harry; 'I wouldn't do such a thing; I shouldthink it would make her sneeze worse than any snuff. Wouldn't it?'
"'The best way to find that out,' said George, with a roguish smile,'would be to take a good pinch yourself.'
"While this conversation had been going on, little Johnny haddisappeared in the pantry; and now, at this very moment, he came out,screaming: 'Oh! my nose hurts! my nose hurts!' and ran to his mother.
"It seems that, anxious to find out what kind of snuff salt would make,he had privately walked into the pantry, and had snuffed and poked quitea quantity into his poor little nose, and now it smarted as if twentyhornets had stung him at once; and he jumped up and down with the pain.
"They had a great time soaking his nose in warm water, and felt verysorry for him, though they could not, for their lives, help laughingwhen George said that Johnny had salted and pickled his nose so well,that it would keep in the hottest weather; at any rate, it would lasthim as long as he lived; which comforted Johnny very much, for hethought that it might have to be cut off to get the salt out.
"After this they bid everybody good night, and went to bed, and Johnnysaid he felt 'pretty _compertuffle_.' His mother had told him that 'goodlittle Henry,' of whom you have read, always said 'compertuffle' for'comfortable,' and Johnny thought it was just the right word to expresshis feelings."