The next had potatoes, the next beef and turnips; which were spelled, with many others, till the game of spelling was finished. She then set them another task, and we proceeded.
The next place we came to was Farmer Thomson’s, where there was a great many little ones waiting for her.
“So, Little Mrs. Goody Two-Shoes,” says one of them, “where have you been so long?” “I have been teaching,” says she, “longer than I intended, and am, I am afraid, come too soon for you now.” “No, but indeed you are not,” replied the other; “for I have got my lesson, and so has Sally Dawson, and so has Harry Wilson, and so have we all;” and they capered about as if they were overjoyed to see her. “Why, then,” says she, “you are all very good, and God Almighty will love you; so let us begin our lessons.” They all huddled round her, and though at the other place they were employed about words and syllables, here we had people of much greater understanding who dealt only in sentences.
The letters being brought upon the table, one of the little ones set up the following sentence:
“The Lord have mercy upon me, and grant that I may be always good, and say my prayers, and love the Lord my God with all my heart, with all my soul, and with all my strength; and honor the King and all good men in authority under him.”
Then the next took the letters, and composed this sentence:
“Lord, have mercy upon me, and grant that I may love my neighbor as myself, and do unto all men as I would have them do unto me, and tell no lies; but be honest and just in all my dealings.”
He that would thrive,
Must rise by five.
He that hath thriven,
May lay till seven.
Truth may be blamed
But can’t be shamed.
Tell me with whom you go,
And I’ll tell what you do.
A friend in your need,
Is a friend indeed.
They never can be wise,
Who good counsel despise.
As we were returning home, we saw a gentleman, who was very ill, sitting under a shady tree at the corner of the rookery. Though ill, he began to joke with Little Margery, and said, laughing, “So, Goody Two-Shoes, they tell me you are a cunning little baggage; pray can you tell me what I shall do to get well?” “Yes, sir,” says she, “go to bed when your rooks do and get up with them in the morning; earn, as they do, every day what you eat, and eat and drink no more than you earn: and you’ll get health and keep it. What should induce the rooks to frequent gentlemen’s houses, only but to tell them how to lead a prudent life? they never build under cottages or farmhouses, because they see that these people know how to live without their admonition.
“Thus wealth and wit you may improve.
Taught by tenants of the grove.”
The gentleman, laughing, gave Margery sixpence, and told her she was a sensible hussy.