"O, George, George." expostulated his father, "I did not think you were either a selfish or a sullen boy."
"No, father, and he is not," said Maria, approaching her father, and taking his hand; "but he wants to go very much, and I do not care so much about it; so he may go, and I will stay at home."
"You are a good girl," said her father; "but I shall not consent to any such injustice; so go and get ready as quick as possible."
"But, father, I had really a great deal rather that George should go," insisted Maria.
"But I cannot think that George would really, on the whole, prefer to take your place," said Mr. Wilton, turning to George.
"No, sir." replied George, who-restored by this time to a sense of propriety and justice-was standing ready to speak for himself. "No, sir; Maria is very kind; but I do not wish to take her place; I am very sorry indeed that I said any thing about it. I certainly shall not consent to hike your place, Maria," he said, perceiving that she was ready to entreat still further.
"O! but I do wish you would," said Maria. But just here her mother interposed. "If Maria would really prefer to give up her place to her brother," said Mrs. Wilton, "I certainly shall like the arrangement very much, for I am to be particularly engaged this afternoon, and, as Harriet is to be absent, I shall be very glad of some of Maria's assistance in taking care of the baby."
"O! well," said Maria, brightening up, "then I am sure I will not go: so run, George, for father is almost ready to start."
Thus the matter was amicably settled. George went with his father, and Maria remained at home to help take care of little Willy.
Maria loved her little brother very much, and she never seemed tired of taking care of him, even when he was ever so fretful or restless. She would leave her play, at any moment, to run and rock the baby, or to hold him in her lap; for, even if she felt inclined, at any time, to be a little out of patience for a moment, she would recollect how many hours she had herself been nursed, by night and by day, and she was glad of an opportunity to relieve her mother of some of her care and fatigue. Her cousin, Ellen Weston, called, one afternoon, to ask her to accompany a party of little girls, who were going to gather berries in the wood near Maria's house. It happened that Maria had been left with the care of Willy, just as her cousin called; and it happened, too, that Willy was that afternoon unusually fretful and difficult to please. If Maria left him for a moment, or if she did not hold him exactly in the posture which suited him, or if she had not precisely the thing ready which he wanted at the moment, he would act just as all babies of nine or ten months sometimes take it into their heads to act. With all her patience and good-humor, she hardly knew how to manage him; and especially after having been obliged to reject so agreeable an invitation as the one her cousin brought, she found her task a little irksome.
She could hardly repress an occasional expression of impatience, as she tried in vain to please the wayward little fellow. But her patience and good-humor were very soon restored; and as she reflected that she was doing her mother a great deal of good, by staying at home with Willy, she felt quite willing to dismiss all thoughts of the berrying expedition. The girls, however, did not forget her. It was proposed by one of the party, when Ellen had stated the reason why Maria could not join them, that each should contribute some portion of her berries to be carried to her on their way home. All agreed very readily to the plan, and each took pains to select the largest and the ripest of her berries for Maria's basket. The gratification afforded Maria by this little token of kind remembrance, more than compensated for the self-denial which she had practised. It is almost always the case when persons cheerfully submit to any privation, for the sake of other persons, or because it is duty, that they are amply rewarded for it. They enjoy, at least, the consciousness of doing right, which is one of the very highest sources of pleasure. Maria would, at any time, have been satisfied with only this reward; but it very often happened, very unexpectedly, that something more was in store for her. This was the case upon the time when she gave up her ride, and her visit to the caravan, for the sake of her brother. I have not said that it was absolutely Maria's duty to yield to her brother, in this case: perhaps it would have been perfectly right for her to have maintained her own claims; and yet there is no doubt that she felt a great deal happier for the sacrifice she had made.
But we were going to speak of some further reward that her amiable behavior, in this instance, procured her. As her father opened a package which he had brought on his return, he silently placed in her hands a beautiful copy of a newly-published work, upon the fly-leaf of which she found written-"Maria Wilton-a reward for her kind and obliging manners towards her brothers and sisters."
SMALL CRAFT
When they had finished the story, Lucy shut the book, saying, "Maria was a good girl, was not she, Rollo?"
"Yes," said Rollo, "she was an excellent girl. I would have done just so; would not you, Lucy?"
"I ought to, I know," said Lucy, "but perhaps I should not."
"I should, I am sure," said Rollo.
Lucy was a polite girl, and she did not contradict Rollo, though she recollected how much selfishness he had shown that morning, and it did not seem to her very likely that he would have been willing to make any very great sacrifice to oblige others.
"My father says we cannot tell what we should do until we are tried," said Lucy.
"Well, I know I should have been willing to stay at home, if I had been Maria," replied Rollo.
"But, only think, that would be preferring another person's pleasure rather than your own."
"Well, I should prefer another person's pleasure rather than my own."
Rollo was beginning to get a little excited and vexed. People who boast of excellences which they do not possess, are very apt to be unreasonable and angry when any body seems to doubt whether their boastings are true. He was thus going on, insisting upon it that he should have acted as Maria had done, and was just saying that he should prefer another person's pleasure rather than his own, when Jonas came into the entry from the kitchen, with an armful of wood, which he was carrying into the parlor.
"When is it, Rollo," said Jonas, "that you prefer another person's pleasure to your own?"
"Always," said Rollo, with an air of self-conceit and consequence.
Jonas smiled, and went on with his wood.
It is always better for boys to be modest and humble-minded. They appear ridiculous to others when they are boasting what great things they can do; and when they boast what good things they do they are very likely to be just on the eve of doing exactly the opposite.
In a moment Jonas came back out of the parlor, and said, as he passed through,
"Self-praise
Goes but little ways;"
a short piece of versification which all boys and girls would do well to remember.
Now it happened that, all this time, Rollo's mother was sitting in a little bedroom, which had a door opening into the entry where Lucy and Rollo had been reading, and she heard all the conversation. She knew that though Rollo was generally a good boy, and was willing to know his faults, and often endeavored to correct them, still that he was, like all other boys, prone to selfishness and to vanity, and she thought that she must take some way to show him clearly what the truth really was, about his disinterestedness.
In a few minutes, therefore, she went out of the room, and took from the store closet an apple and a pear. They were both good, but the pear was particularly fine. It was large, mellow, and juicy. She then went back to her seat, and called, "Rollo."