Volume I Part 26 (2/2)

There were two little girls, neither handsome nor plain, One's name was Eliza, the other's was Jane; They were both of one height, as I've heard people say, And both of one age, I believe, to a day.

'Twas fancied by some, who but slightly had seen them, There was not a pin to be chosen between them; But no one for long in this notion persisted, So great a distinction there really existed.

Eliza knew well that she could not be pleasing, While fretting and fuming, while sulking or teasing; And therefore in company artfully tried, Not to break her bad habits, but only to hide.

So, when she was out, with much labor and pain, She contrived to look almost as pleasant as Jane; But then you might see that, in forcing a smile, Her mouth was uneasy, and ached all the while.

And in spite of her care it would sometimes befall That some cross event happened to ruin it all; And because it might chance that her share was the worst, Her temper broke loose, and her dimples dispersed.

But Jane, who had nothing she wanted to hide, And therefore these troublesome arts never tried, Had none of the care and fatigue of concealing, But her face always showed what her bosom was feeling.

At home or abroad there was peace in her smile, A cheerful good nature that needed no guile.

And Eliza worked hard, but could never obtain The affection that freely was given to Jane.

Ann Taylor [1782-1866]

MEDDLESOME MATTY

One ugly trick has often spoiled The sweetest and the best; Matilda, though a pleasant child, One ugly trick possessed, Which, like a cloud before the skies, Hid all her better qualities.

Sometimes she'd lift the tea-pot lid, To peep at what was in it; Or tilt the kettle, if you did But turn your back a minute.

In vain you told her not to touch, Her trick of meddling grew so much.

Her grandmamma went out one day, And by mistake she laid Her spectacles and snuff-box gay Too near the little maid; ”Ah! well,” thought she, ”I'll try them on, As soon as grandmamma is gone.”

Forthwith she placed upon her nose The gla.s.ses large and wide; And looking round, as I suppose, The snuff-box too she spied: ”Oh! what a pretty box is that; I'll open it,” said little Matt.

”I know that grandmamma would say, 'Don't meddle with it, dear'; But then, she's far enough away, And no one else is near: Besides, what can there be amiss In opening such a box as this?”

So thumb and finger went to work To move the stubborn lid, And presently a mighty jerk The mighty mischief did; For all at once, ah! woeful case, The snuff came puffing in her face.

Poor eyes, and nose, and mouth, beside, A dismal sight presented; In vain, as bitterly she cried, Her folly she repented.

In vain she ran about for ease; She could do nothing now but sneeze.

She dashed the spectacles away, To wipe her tingling eyes, And as in twenty bits they lay, Her grandmamma she spies.

”Heydey! and what's the matter now?”

Cried grandmamma, with lifted brow.

<script>