Bo-Peep Story Books Part 7

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One day as Mrs. Margery was going through the next village, she met with some wicked boys who had taken a young raven, which they were going to throw at. She wanted to get the poor creature out of their cruel hands, and therefore gave them a penny for him, and brought him home. She called him by the name of Ralph, and a fine bird he was.

Now this bird she taught to speak, to spell, and to read; and as he was fond of playing with the large letters, the children used to call them Ralph's Alphabet.

Some days after she had met with the raven, as she was walking in the fields, she saw some naughty boys who had taken a pigeon and tied a string to its legs, in order to let it fly and draw it back again when they pleased; and by this means they tortured the poor bird with the hopes of liberty and repeated disappointment. This pigeon she also bought, and taught him how to spell and read, though not to talk. He was a very pretty fellow, and she called him Tom. And as the raven Ralph was fond of the large letters, Tom the pigeon took care of the small ones.

The neighbours knowing that Mrs. Two-Shoes was very good, as, to be sure, n.o.body was better, made her a present of a little skylark. She thought the lark might be of use to her and her pupils, and tell them when it was time to get up. "For he that is fond of his bed, and lies till noon, lives but half his days, the rest being lost in sleep, which is a kind of death."

Some time after this a poor lamb had lost its dam, and the farmer being about to kill it, she bought it of him, and brought him home with her to play with the children, and teach them when to go to bed; for it was a rule with the wise men of that age (and a very good one, let me tell you) to "Rise with the lark, and lie down with the lamb." This lamb she called Will, and a pretty fellow he was.

No sooner was Tippy, the lark, and Will, the ba-lamb, brought into the school, than that sensible rogue Ralph, the raven, composed the following verse, which every good little boy and girl should get by heart:--

"_Early to bed, and early to rise, Is the way to be healthy, wealthy, and wise._"

Soon after this, a present was made to Mrs. Margery of a little dog, whom she called Jumper. He was always in a good humour, and playing and jumping about, and therefore he was called Jumper. The place a.s.signed for Jumper was that of keeping the door, so that he might have been called the porter of a college, for he would let n.o.body go out nor any one come in, without leave of his mistress.

Billy, the ba-lamb, was a cheerful fellow, and all the children were fond of him; wherefore Mrs. Two-Shoes made it a rule that those who behaved best should have Will home with them at night, to carry their satchel on his back, and bring it in the morning. Mrs. Margery, as we have frequently observed, was always doing good, and thought she could never sufficiently gratify those who had done anything to serve her.

These generous sentiments naturally led her to consult the interest of her neighbours; and as most of their lands were meadow, and they depended much on their hay, which had been for many years greatly damaged by the wet weather, she contrived an instrument to direct them when to mow their gra.s.s with safety, and prevent their hay being spoiled. They all came to her for advice, and by that means got in their hay without damage, while most of that in the neighbouring village was spoiled. This occasioned very great noise in the country, and so greatly provoked were the people who resided in the other parishes that they absolutely accused her of being a witch, and sent old Gaffer Goosecap, a busy fellow in other people's concerns, to find out evidence against her. The wiseacre happened to come to her school when she was walking about with the raven on one shoulder, the pigeon on the other, the lark on her hand, and the lamb and the dog by her side; which indeed made a droll figure, and so surprised the man, that he cried out: "A witch! a witch! a witch!"

Upon this, she laughingly answered: "A conjuror! a conjuror!" and so they parted. But it did not end thus, for a warrant was issued out against Mrs. Margery, and she was carried to a meeting of the justices, whither all the neighbours followed her.

At the meeting, one of the justices, who knew little of life and less of the law, behaved very badly, and though n.o.body was able to prove anything against her, asked who she could bring to her character. "Who can you bring _against_ my character, sir," says she. "There are people enough who would appear in my defence, were it necessary; but I never supposed that any one here could be so weak as to believe there was any such thing as a witch. If I am a witch, this is my charm, and (laying a barometer upon the table) it is with this," says she, "that I have taught my neighbours to know the state of the weather."

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All the company laughed; and Sir William Dove, who was on the bench, asked her accusers how they could be such fools as to think there was any such thing as a witch. And then he gave such an account of Mrs.

Margery and her virtue, good sense, and prudent behaviour, that the gentlemen present returned her public thanks for the great service she had done the country. One gentleman in particular, Sir Charles Jones, had conceived such a high opinion of her, that he offered her a considerable sum to take the care of his family, and the education of his daughter, which, however, she refused but this gentleman sending for her afterwards, when he had a dangerous fit of illness, she went, and behaved so prudently in the family and so tenderly to him and his daughter, that he would not permit her to leave his house, but soon after made her proposals of marriage. She was truly sensible of the honour he intended her, but would not consent to be made a lady till he had provided for his daughter. All things being settled, and the day fixed, the neighbours came in crowds to see the wedding; for they were all glad that one who had been such a good little girl, and was become such a virtuous and good woman, was going to be made a lady. But just as the clergyman had opened his book, a gentleman richly dressed ran into the church, and cried: "Stop! stop!" This greatly alarmed the congregation, and particularly the intended bride and bridegroom, whom he first accosted, desiring to speak with them apart. After they had been talking a few moments, the people were greatly surprised to see Sir Charles stand motionless, and his bride cry and faint away in the stranger's arms. This seeming grief, however, was only a prelude to a flood of joy, which immediately succeeded; for you must know that this gentleman so richly dressed was little Tommy Meanwell, Mrs. Margery's brother, who was just come from sea, where he had made a large fortune, and hearing, as soon as he landed, of his sister's intended wedding, had ridden post to see that a proper settlement was made on her, which he thought she was now ent.i.tled to, as he himself was able to give her an ample fortune. They soon returned to the communion-table, and were married in tears, but they were tears of joy.

Sir Charles and Lady Jones lived happily for many years. Her ladys.h.i.+p continued to visit the school in which she had pa.s.sed so many happy days, and always gave the prizes to the best scholars with her own hands. She also gave to the parish several acres of land to be planted yearly with potatoes, for all the poor who would come and fetch them for the use of their families; but if any took them to sell, they were deprived of that privilege ever after. And these roots were planted and raised from the rent arising from a farm which she had a.s.signed over for that purpose. In short, she was a mother to the poor, a physician to the sick, and a friend to those in distress. Her life was the greatest blessing, and her death the greatest calamity that ever was felt in the neighbourhood.

THE STORY

OF

=The House that Jack Built=.

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=Edited by Madame de Chatelain.=

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This is the malt, That lay in the house that Jack built.

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This is the rat, That ate the malt, That lay in the house that Jack built.

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This is the cat, That kill'd the rat, That ate the malt, That lay in the house that Jack built.

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This is the dog, That worried the cat, That kill'd the rat, That ate the malt, That lay in the house that Jack built.

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This is the cow with the crumpled horn, That toss'd the dog, That worried the cat, That kill'd the rat, That ate the malt, That lay in the house that Jack built.

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This is the maiden all forlorn, That milk'd the cow with the crumpled horn, That toss'd the dog, That worried the cat, That kill'd the rat, That ate the malt, That lay in the house that Jack built.

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This is the man all tatter'd and torn, That kiss'd the maiden all forlorn, That milk'd the cow with the crumpled horn, That toss'd the dog, That worried the cat, That kill'd the rat, That ate the malt, That lay in the house that Jack built.

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This is the priest all shaven and shorn, That married the man all tatter'd and torn, That kiss'd the maiden all forlorn, That milk'd the cow with the crumpled horn, That toss'd the dog, That worried the cat, That kill'd the rat, That ate the malt, That lay in the house that Jack built.

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This is the c.o.c.k that crow'd in the morn, That waked the priest all shaven and shorn, That married the man all tatter'd and torn, That kiss'd the maiden all forlorn, That milk'd the cow with the crumpled horn, That toss'd the dog, That worried the cat, That kill'd the rat, That ate the malt, That lay in the house that Jack built.

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This is the farmer who sow'd the corn, That kept the c.o.c.k that crow'd in the morn, That waked the priest all shaven and shorn, That married the man all tatter'd and torn, That kiss'd the maiden all forlorn, That milk'd the cow with the crumpled horn, That toss'd the dog, That worried the cat, That kill'd the rat, That ate the malt, That lay in the house that Jack built.

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This is the horse, and the hound, and the horn, That belong'd to the farmer who sow'd the corn, That kept the c.o.c.k that crow'd in the morn, That waked the priest all shaven and shorn, That married the man all tatter'd and torn, That kiss'd the maiden all forlorn, That milk'd the cow with the crumpled horn, That toss'd the dog, That worried the cat, That kill'd the rat, That ate the malt, That lay in the house that Jack built.

THE STORY

OF THE

=Death & Burial of c.o.c.k Robin=.

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