The Crown of Success Part 23

"We may congratulate Nelly," said Duty, "upon the success of her Plain-work. I wish that every girl in the land had such a plant in her garden."

"I think that none of us can doubt," observed Mr. Learning, taking the white box from under his arm, "which of our four young friends has made the best use of Time-money--which has best deserved the crown of Success." And opening the box, he took out a most elegant wreath of leaves worked in filigree silver, and made an attempt to place it on the head of the blushing Nelly. But the little girl modestly shrank back.

"Oh, no!" cried Nelly; "it is not for me. It would not be right, it would not be fair, that poor d.i.c.k should lose what he had fairly earned, because Folly set his furniture on fire. Lubin can witness, Matty can witness, that his cottage was far better furnished than mine before the accident happened. Indeed the crown ought to be his. I could not bear to deprive him of it."

Duty smiled kindly at the little pleader; Affection stooped down and gave her a kiss.

"I must say," observed honest Lubin, in answer to Nelly's appeal, "that none of us cut such a dash as d.i.c.k did before that unlucky explosion."

"Nelly," said Mr. Learning, with a most benevolent air, "the crown is yours--I give it to you. You may bear it to your brother, if you will."

The lame girl waited for no further permission, but hurried off at the greatest speed which she could command, to carry to another the prize which she herself might have worn.

"After all, I believe that Nelly _has_ deserved all the praise and love which she has won," sighed the disappointed Matty, her jealousy conquered by the example of generous self-denial which she saw in her younger sister.

The party quickly followed the steps of Nelly Desley to the cottage of d.i.c.k--Lubin a.s.sisting his mother to carry the various gifts of his sisters. Affection quitted the rest for a few minutes in order to direct the movements of some attendants, who were spreading a table in the open air, in the s.p.a.ce between the cottages. They were making preparations for a banquet, designed as a pleasant surprise for the Desleys upon their mother's return. The treat was given by Duty and Affection upon the joyful occasion, and especially intended to honour the wearer of the crown of Success.

CHAPTER x.x.xI.

THE CROWN OF SUCCESS.

"Mine, Nelly! no, it can never be mine!" exclaimed d.i.c.k, resisting with emotion the efforts of his sister to place the crown on his head.

"It was to be for the one who had made the best use of his hours," said Nelly; "it is fairly yours, for none of our furniture could be compared to that which you brought from the town. It was not your fault that an accident destroyed what had cost you so many good hours, nor is it right that you should suffer a double loss from the fire."

"There might have been reason in what you say," observed the pale invalid, "if the accident had indeed been owing to no error of my own.

Nay, Nelly, you must not prevent me from telling the whole truth. It is best that I should speak, and that all these my friends should hear."

Dame Desley, her children, and her guests, were all standing around the boy. "If," continued d.i.c.k, "I had obeyed the voice of my mother--if I had turned my back upon Pride, and not attempted, at his bidding, things that I was not able to perform--if he had not introduced me to Folly, whom I encouraged, although I despised her--the explosion would never have taken place, I should have suffered no shame and loss. I am willing to bear the consequences of my own wilfulness and presumption. I should blush to wear the crown of Success, which I feel that I do not merit.

Let me see it on your brow, dear Nelly; its proper place is there. Next to the pleasure of winning it myself, is that of knowing that it belongs to one who so richly deserves it."

Nelly was no longer able to resist. The sparkling crown was placed on her brow. Lubin congratulated her with frank kindness, and even Matty felt that she had no right to complain. The reflection, however, pa.s.sed through the mind of the girl, "All this honour and pleasure might have been mine, had I never listened to Folly!"

And now Mr. Learning came forward, and stood in the centre of the circle, leaning one hand on the arm-chair of d.i.c.k, while with the other he motioned for silence. It was clear, from his preparatory cough, that the sage was going to make a speech.

"My friends," he began, in his distinct, solemn tone, glancing benignly around, "we are all met together on a happy occasion. We see merit rewarded with success, and patient obedience to Duty achieving more than talent or genius. Before we proceed to the banquet to which our fair friends have invited us, let me mention before all my intentions in regard to the future year. When twelve months have run their course I will again return to this place, again look for a kindly welcome, again examine the cottages here. If I find that d.i.c.k has made up for the past--that Matty, giving up all connection with Folly, has furnished wisely and well--that Lubin, by steady perseverance, has made all forget that the word DUNCE was ever inscribed on his wall--not only one, but all and each of my young friends shall receive a crown of Success."

"Hurrah! hurrah!" shouted Lubin, who had just been forming a number of good resolutions. A smile of pleasure lit up the pale features of d.i.c.k; and Matty, in expectation, already felt the silver crown on her head.

"And now," said graceful Duty, "let Mr. Learning conduct our Nelly to the feast prepared, as she is Queen of the day."

Even d.i.c.k, as if gaining fresh strength from the sight of the pleasant company around him, was able, leaning on his mother, to join the cheerful circle that on that beautiful autumnal day gathered around the board. Conversation flowed freely, nothing painful was recalled, no one whispered about Pride, no one mentioned Miss Folly. Brightly sparkled the beverage of Hope, foaming and bubbling in the gla.s.s; and every one who has tasted it knows what a delicious beverage it is. The stores of Amus.e.m.e.nt had been half emptied to furnish sweetmeats and cakes for the table; and Affection had provided a large quant.i.ty of the dried fruits of sweet Recollections. Merry were the smiles that were exchanged; merry the jests that were made; merriest of all the loud song of Content, as he warbled his lay of delight, fluttering round the head of her who wore the silver crown of Success.

And I now would gather around me my readers, to make them a little address ere we part. I see them in my mind's eye--from the school-boy with jacket and cap, who has thought it a condescension to read such "childish stuff," to the little curly-headed urchin in tartan frock, who, when taking a drive with mamma, asks whether the little stream which he pa.s.ses be not "the real brook Bother." There is the tall elder sister, who only reads aloud "to amuse the children;" and the girl who "hates all lessons;" and the little laughing fairy who expects some day to see dwarf Alphabet standing at the door of a shop. It is not hard to make a speech when no one can see the speaker. So, without blushing, or coughing, or stammering, A. L. O. E. addresses her readers.

Have not you, my friends, been reading in my story of persons and scenes with which you yourselves are familiar? Have you not each a nice little head to furnish, and Time-money to pay for your purchases? And do not all your best friends recommend you to go to the good town of Education?

Do not you know the muddy brook Bother? Have you not crossed it on the plank of Patience; or have you never--pray pardon the question--gone floundering right into the middle? I am pretty sure that you have paid toll to Alphabet, the stout little dwarf; that you have felt how troublesome and tedious it is to climb Multiplication staircase; that you have examined Reading's fine shop; glanced at Arithmetic's grates and fire-irons; and probably tumbled many a time from that awkward ladder of Spelling. Have I not amongst my young audience a clever d.i.c.k, a lazy Lubin, a silly Matty, and a lame little child like Nelly? Each reader must judge for himself which character most resembles his own, and let each kindly accept a suitable word of advice.

Clever reader! beware of Pride. Don't let him lurk behind your door--don't let him lead you to cut either your fingers or your friends, by attempting things for which you are not fitted, or by looking down upon companions not gifted with powers like your own. Do not despise Patience, or think that you are too clever to need it. It is not the quickest or sharpest pupil that really spends Time to best purpose.

Often has the haughty, self-willed genius been found to forfeit the crown of Success.

Lazy reader! you who love play far better than work, and are tempted to vote Education, its tradesmen, its family of Ologies, and all, as the greatest bores in the world, beware of Procrastination--beware of the thief of Time--beware of putting off till to-morrow what ought to be done to-day. Can you bear to see that word DUNCE so terribly distinct on your wall? Can you bear to throw away on nothing but Amus.e.m.e.nt those precious hours and minutes which, well employed, might gain for you the silver crown of Success?

Silly reader!--but here I must pause, for it is probable that no little girl glancing over my pages will accept the t.i.tle as her own. Yet, if she know Miss Folly, delight in her gossiping prate, dress according to her fanciful taste, and value her poisonous salve, she must really excuse me for cla.s.sing her with our poor, conceited young Matty. There are thousands and tens of thousands, I fear, of such silly girls in the world (some of them may _possibly_ be amongst my readers), who would furnish their heads with bubbles, and neglect the good for the gay. To such I would utter a gentle warning. Folly can never lead you to real happiness or real usefulness in the world. She may promise you pleasures for a moment; but her pleasures either vanish into air, or leave pain and vexation behind. Then shut her out from your home; give her idle fancies no room. Let your dress be sober, neat, and quiet--suited to the station in which you are placed. Girls who deck themselves out to be admired remind us of the c.o.c.katoo Parade, puffing out its red feathers, and always repeating the cry, "Ain't I fine? ain't I fine?" Let your furniture be useful and solid; water well the plant of Plain-work. It is not the fanciful, frivolous miss who merits the crown of Success.

But, perhaps, amongst my audience are several who may be described as lame, from the difficulty with which they make their way to the town of Education. They can hardly climb up hill Puzzle, and are often tempted to sit down in despair by the swollen waters of Bother! Courage, my dear young friends! Resolute perseverance will yet win the crown of Success.

If you keep your eye upon Duty, and bravely follow where she would lead--if, guided by gentle Affection, you steadily pursue a right course--you will conquer difficulties at last, be useful, honoured, and beloved.

But if you would further know _how_ to find out Duty, and, having found her, how to get strength and courage to follow her precepts, remember, dear friends, what was the best gift that even Affection could offer.

There is something better than human knowledge--something stronger than mortal efforts--something more precious than earthly Success! Oh, make it your own, for only when that is possessed will the bird Content fold its silver wings, and rest in your bosoms for ever!