Domestic Pleasures, or, the Happy Fire-side Part 3

_Louisa._ Well, really now, that is very ingenious. Are the names of the other months all equally suitable, papa?

_Mr. B._ February was so called from the expiations signified by the word _Februs_, which were in this month performed. March had its name from _Mars_, the supposed father of Romulus; and on that account had been placed first, till the alteration made by Numa. April is said to have derived its name from _Aphrodite_, which is another name for Venus, because of the superst.i.tious worship at that time paid to her. May, from _Maia_, the mother of Mercury, to whom this month was made sacred. June, from _Juno_; or, as some suppose, from _Juventus_, the Latin word for youth, because the season is warm, or, as it were, juvenile. The rest had their names from their order:--as, _Quintilis_, the fifth month; _s.e.xtilis_, the sixth; _September_, the seventh; _October_, the eighth; _November_, the ninth; and _December_, the tenth:--all derived, as you know, Ferdinand, from the Latin words signifying these numbers.

_Quintilis_ and _s.e.xtilis_ were afterwards changed into July and August, in compliment to Julius Caesar and the emperor Augustus, of whom you will hear as you proceed with your history. Have you read any part of the reign of Tullius Hostilius, who was the next king of Rome?

_Louisa._ I just looked at a few pages, papa, but did not read much.

But, from the little I saw, I do not think I shall like him so well as Numa.

_Edward_. No, that you will not, Louisa; for he was very fond of war, which you do not like at all. The temple of Ja.n.u.s was soon opened when he mounted the throne. I think Hostilius was a good name for him, for he was hostile to all his neighbours.

_Mr. B._ You have read his reign, I suppose, Edward? We must not, however, antic.i.p.ate the history, by entering into any further detail at present, or we shall deprive your sisters of the pleasure they would otherwise have in the perusal of it. To-morrow, I shall expect an account of the battle between the Hexatii and Curiatii, which was the first remarkable event that occurred in his reign. It is now time to retire, as I purpose taking you all on a little excursion to-morrow, if it prove fine. You must, therefore, rise early, and prepare your lessons before breakfast.

The children all expressed their delight at this unexpected indulgence, promised the strictest attention to their lessons, and, affectionately embracing their parents, withdrew.

CONVERSATION III.

On the following morning the children rose according to their promise, and, by strict attention to their lessons, merited the treat their father had in store for them. It was a lovely morning! but our best- laid schemes are subject to disappointment; and the little group felt their pleasure greatly lessened, upon hearing that a violent headache, to which their mother was subject, would prevent her joining the party.

I shall not enter into any detail respecting their visit, as my young readers will hear it all from their own lips, in the conversation they held with their mother, when they returned in the evening. They had the pleasure of finding her much better, and able to enjoy their company, and the account they gave of their excursion.

Emily first entered the parlour, and, gently opening the door, affectionately enquired after her mother's health.

"My head is much better, I thank you, my dear," replied Mrs. Bernard: "but why are you alone?--where are your brothers and sisters? All safe and well, I hope?"

_Emily_. Yes, quite well, and in high spirits, I a.s.sure you. They requested to get out at the lodge-gate, that they might have a race through the garden. Feeling rather tired, I preferred riding.

At this moment Louisa came running in, quite out of breath. The others soon followed her, laughing merrily.

_Louisa_. Oh! mamma, how I wish you had been with us. We have had such a happy day, and have seen so many curious things.

_Ferdinand_. What a nice woman Mrs. Horton is, mamma. She has been so kind to us.

_Edward_. Dear me, Louisa and Ferdinand, how loud you talk. You forget mamma's head.

"Gently, my dears, gently," said Mrs. Bernard: "moderate your delight a little. I am glad to hear that you have enjoyed year day, and shall like to have a full account of all you have seen, when you can enter upon it quietly. In the mean time, go and put by your hats and tippets, my dear girls, and come to tea as quickly as you can."

Louisa declared she did not want any tea, and requested that she might go into the nursery to little Sophy, and take her some sh.e.l.ls, which Mrs. Horton had given her.

Mrs. Bernard willingly granted her request and added:--"I am glad, my dear Louisa, you do not, when in the midst of enjoyment yourself, forget your little sister, who is too young to join your pleasures. You may go and stay with her a quarter of an hour; but do not keep her up beyond her usual time."

_Ferdinand_. Pray take my sh.e.l.ls too, Louisa, and tell her that little fishes once lived in them at the bottom of the sea.

Louisa, with a light step, and a heart still lighter, left the room, saying, she had a great deal of information to give little Sophy.

_Mrs. B._ Now, my dear Emily, ring the bell, and make haste down to tea: I see your father coming up the garden.

The children quickly returned. They were not, however, allowed to enter into any detail of their past pleasures, till the tea-things were removed, and Louisa had joined their part, which she did, very punctually, at the expiration of the promised quarter of an hour.

_Louisa_. Little Sophy is so delighted with her sh.e.l.ls, mamma! She sends her love to you, Ferdinand, and says she will give you a kiss tomorrow.

I do not think I shall do much work to-night, mamma, we have so many things to tell you.

The room was soon cleared, and liberty given to begin the account of their excursion, provided only one spoke at a time.

_Ferdinand_. Oh, Louisa, tell mamma about the dog!

_Edward_. No: tell about the cat, that is the most curious.

_Louisa_. Now, I do not think so, Edward. The story about the dog was so very droll.

_Mrs. B._ Stop--stop, my dear children, or I shall hear nothing after all. Begin at the beginning, and all will go on regularly. Now, set out from our own door.

_Louisa_. Come, Emily, you will tell that part best, because I do think you enjoyed the ride more than any of us.

_Emily_. I did, indeed, enjoy it. The country looks so rich, from the variety of foliage; the autumnal tints are in their highest beauty, and you know, my dear mother, how delightful the scenery is, particularly through the park which leads to Mrs. Horton's house. She received us with the greatest politeness, and was very sorry you were prevented accompanying us, especially when she heard that indisposition was the cause of your absence. After we had taken some refreshment, she proposed a walk in the park. As we pa.s.sed through a small room, opening into the garden, I was much struck with the appearance of an elegant bird in a gla.s.s case. It was stuffed, but so remarkably well done, that you would have thought it still alive. From the two long feathers in its tail, I knew it to be the bird of Paradise, and begged Mrs. Horton would give me leave to examine it more closely. She told me it was a native of the Molucca Islands, and that there were eight different species of them.

The plumage is very beautiful. The head, throat, and neck, are of a pale gold colour; the base of the bill, as well as the head, is covered with fine black feathers, soft and glossy as velvet, and varying in colour with the different shades of light that fall upon them. The back part of the head is of a shining green, mixed with bright yellow; the body and wings are covered with brown, purple, and gold-coloured feathers; the upper part of the tail is a pale yellow, and the undermost feathers are white, and longer than those above. But what chiefly excites curiosity, are two long, naked feathers, which spring from the upper part of the rump, above the tail, and are, in general, two feet in length. These birds are supposed to migrate into other countries at the time of the monsoons, but it is not certain that they do so.

_Ferdinand_. Pray, what are the _monsoons_, Emily?

_Emily_. They are periodical winds, to which those countries are subject lying within a certain distance of the equator. They blow in one direction for a time, and, at stated seasons, change, and blow for an equal s.p.a.ce of time from the opposite point of the compa.s.s.

_Louisa_. Do not forget the little hummingbirds, Emily, which were in the case next to the bird of Paradise. What beautiful little creatures they were! And Mrs. Horton says that nature has provided them with forked tongues, completely formed for entering flowers, and drawing out the honey, which is their natural food.

_Mrs. B_. Did Mrs. Horton tell you how curiously they construct their nests?

_Louisa_. Oh, yes; she showed us one: it was suspended on the very point of a twig. She says, they adopt this plan to secure them from the attacks of the monkey and the snake. They form them in the shape of a hen's egg, cut in half. The eggs are not bigger than a pea, of a clear white, with a few yellow specks here and there. I wish I had some of these pretty little creatures; but Mrs. Horton says they will not live in England, it is so much colder than the tropical climates.

_Ferdinand_. What little feet the Chinese women have, mamma! We saw one of their shoes, and I am sure it was not a bit bigger than little Sophy's.

_Emily_. But you know, Ferdinand, _that_ is not the natural size of the Chinese ladies' feet: they are confined, while they are babies, with very tight bandages, which prevent them from growing.

_Louisa._ I am glad I am not a Chinese little girl. Such small feet cannot be very useful to them when they grow up to be women, I think.

_Mrs. B._ Indeed, they are not: The poor things are perfect cripples, and are obliged to be carried wherever they go.

_Ferdinand._ Oh, how I pity them! They can never run about and enjoy themselves while they are little, as we do, Louisa.

_Mrs. B._ Indeed, my dear Ferdinand, an English child has great cause for thankfulness, on many accounts. I know of no country where the real happiness and welfare of children is so carefully studied.

_Emily._ In China, however, the boys are educated with considerable care. In their early studies, geography is particularly attended to. At six years of age, they are made acquainted with the names of the princ.i.p.al parts of the world; at eight, they are instructed in the rules of politeness; and at ten are sent to a public school, where they learn reading, writing, and arithmetic. From thirteen to fifteen they are taught music; they do not, however, sing merry songs, as we do, but serious sentences, or moral precepts. They also practise the use of the bow, and are taught to ride. In every city, town, and almost in every village, I have been told that there are public school for teaching the more abstruse sciences.

_Mrs. B._ The mind of the poor girls, on the contrary, are most sadly neglected. Needlework is almost the only accomplishment thought necessary for them. There is no country in the world in which the woman are in a greater state of humiliation, than in China. Those whose husbands are of high rank, live under constant confinement; those of the second cla.s.s are little better than upper servants, deprived of all liberty; whilst the poort share with their husbands the most laborious occupations.

_Louisa._ How exceedingly I should dislike it; and yet, I think, I would rather be the wife of a poor Chinese, than of a rich one.

_Emily_ I think so too; for the hardest labour would not be to me so irksome as total inactivity.

_Mrs. B._ I am quite of your opinion, Emily. The situation of these wretched beings must be rendered doubly irksome by the uncultivated state of their minds. This deprives them of those delightful resources, from which the well-educated female of our happy country may constantly derive the purest enjoyment.