But he had little reason to rejoice at this escape, for he found it impossible to stop the animal, and was every instant afraid of being thrown off and dashed upon the ground. After he had been thus hurried along a considerable time the ass on a sudden stopped short at the door of a cottage, and began kicking and prancing with so much fury that the little boy was presently thrown to the ground, and broke his leg in the fall.
His cries immediately brought the family out, among whom was the very little girl he had used so ill in the morning. But she, with the greatest good nature, seeing him in such a pitiable situation, assisted in bringing him in and laying him upon the bed. There this unfortunate boy had leisure to recollect himself and reflect upon his own bad behavior, which in one day’s time had exposed him to such a variety of misfortunes; and he determined with great sincerity that if ever he recovered from his present accident he would be as careful to take every opportunity of doing good as he had before been to commit every species of mischief.
THE PURPLE JAR
By MARIA EDGEWORTH
Rosamond, a little girl about seven years old, was walking with her mother in the streets of London. As she passed along she looked in at the windows of several shops, and saw a great variety of different sorts of things, of which she did not know the use, or even the names. She wished to stop to look at them, but there was a great number of people in the streets, and a great many carts, carriages, and wheelbarrows, and she was afraid to let go her mother’s hand.
“Oh, mother, how happy I should be,” she said, as she passed a toy-shop, “if I had all these pretty things!”
“What, all! Do you wish for them all, Rosamond?”
“Yes, mamma, all.”
As she spoke they came to a milliner’s shop, the windows of which were decorated with ribbons and lace, and festoons of artificial flowers.
“Oh, mamma, what beautiful roses! Won’t you buy some of them?”
“No, my dear.”
“Because I don’t want them, my dear.”
They went a little farther, and came to another shop, which caught Rosamond’s eye. It was a jeweler’s shop, and in it were a great many pretty baubles, ranged in drawers behind glass.
“Mamma, will you buy some of these?”
“Which of them, Rosamond?”
“Which? I don’t know which; any of them will do, for they are all pretty.”
“Yes, they are all pretty; but of what use would they be to me?”
“Use! Oh, I am sure you could find some use or other for them if you would only buy them first.”
“But I would rather find out the use first.”
“Well, then, mamma, there are buckles; you know that buckles are useful things, very useful things.”
“I have a pair of buckles; I don’t want another pair,” said her mother, and walked on.