The Parents Assistant | Page 5

Out" the errors to which a high spirit and the love of
party are apt to lead have been made the subject of correction, and it is
hoped that the common fault of making the most mischievous
characters appear the most ACTIVE and the most ingenious, has been
as much as possible avoided. UNSUCCESSFUL cunning will not be
admired, and cannot induce imitation.
It has been attempted, in these stories, to provide antidotes against
ill-humour, the epidemic rage for dissipation, and the fatal propensity
to admire and imitate whatever the fashion of the moment may

distinguish. Were young people, either in public schools, or in private
families, absolutely free from bad examples, it would not be advisable
to introduce despicable and vicious characters in books intended for
their improvement. But in real life they MUST see vice, and it is best
that they should be early shocked with the representation of what they
are to avoid. There is a great deal of difference between innocence and
ignorance.
To prevent the precepts of morality from tiring the ear and the mind, it
was necessary to make the stories in which they are introduced in some
measure dramatic; to keep alive hope and fear and curiosity, by some
degree of intricacy. At the same time, care has been taken to avoid
inflaming the imagination, or exciting a restless spirit of adventure, by
exhibiting false views of life, and creating hopes which, in the ordinary
course of things, cannot be realized.

CONTENTS.
THE ORPHANS LAZY LAWRENCE THE FALSE KEY SIMPLE
SUSAN THE WHITE PIGEON THE BIRTHDAY PRESENT ETON
MONTEM FORGIVE AND FORGET WASTE NOT, WANT NOT;
OR, TWO STRINGS TO YOUR BOW OLD POZ THE MIMIC THE
BARRING OUT; OR, PARTY SPIRIT THE BRACELETS THE
LITTLE MERCHANTS TARLTON THE BASKET WOMAN

THE ORPHANS.
Near the ruins of the castle of Rossmore, in Ireland, is a small cabin, in
which there once lived a widow and her four children. As long as she
was able to work, she was very industrious, and was accounted the best
spinner in the parish; but she overworked herself at last, and fell ill, so
that she could not sit to her wheel as she used to do, and was obliged to
give it up to her eldest daughter, Mary.
Mary was at this time about twelve years old. One evening she was
sitting at the foot of her mother's bed spinning, and her little brothers
and sisters were gathered round the fire eating their potatoes and milk
for supper. "Bless them, the poor young creatures!" said the widow,
who, as she lay on her bed, which she knew must be her deathbed, was
thinking of what would become of her children after she was gone.

Mary stopped her wheel, for she was afraid that the noise of it had
wakened her mother, and would hinder her from going to sleep again.
"No need to stop the wheel, Mary, dear, for me," said her mother, "I
was not asleep; nor is it THAT which keeps me from sleep. But don't
overwork yourself, Mary."
"Oh, no fear of that," replied Mary; "I'm strong and hearty."
"So was I once," said her mother.
"And so you will be again, I hope," said Mary, "when the fine weather
comes again."
"The fine weather will never come again to me," said her mother. "'Tis
a folly, Mary, to hope for that; but what I hope is, that you'll find some
friend--some help--orphans as you'll soon all of you be. And one thing
comforts my heart, even as I AM lying here, that not a soul in the wide
world I am leaving has to complain of me. Though poor I have lived
honest, and I have brought you up to be the same, Mary; and I am sure
the little ones will take after you; for you'll be good to them--as good to
them as you can."
Here the children, who had finished eating their suppers, came round
the bed, to listen to what their mother was saying. She was tired of
speaking, for she was very weak; but she took their little hands, as they
laid them on the bed and joining them all together, she said, "Bless you,
dears; bless you; love and help one another all you can. Good night!--
good-bye!"
Mary took the children away to their bed, for she saw that their mother
was too ill to say more; but Mary did not herself know how ill she was.
Her mother never spoke rightly afterwards, but talked in a confused
way about some debts, and one in particular, which she owed to a
schoolmistress for Mary's schooling; and then she charged Mary to go
and pay it, because she was not able to GO IN with it. At