“How many of these horse-chestnuts may I gather, mamma?” said Frank.
“You may gather four of them, my dear,” said his mother; and Frank gathered four of the horse-chestnuts. Then he let go the bough; and he sat down upon the bank, beside his mother, to examine his horse-chestnuts. His mother broke one of them open for him; the inside of the green husk was white and soft, and, in the middle of this white, soft substance, there lay a smooth shining kernel, of the color of mahogany.
“Is it good to eat, mamma?” said Frank.—” May I taste it?”
“You may taste it, if you please, my dear,” said his mother; “but I do not think that you will like it, for that brown skin has a bitter taste, and I do not think the inside of it is agreeable; but you may taste it, if you like it.”
Frank tasted it, and he did not like the bitter of the outside; and he said, “Mamma, I will always take care to ask you before I meddle with things, or taste them, because you know more than I do, and you can tell me whether they are good for me or not.” Frank’s mother, having now rested herself, got up from her seat; and she walked home; and Frank carried his three horse-chestnuts home with him. He did not put them into his mouth, because he had learned that they tasted bitter, but he used them as balls; and he rolled them along the floor, when he got into the house; and he was very happy playing with them.
Another day, Frank went out to walk with his mother; and he came to a gate that was painted green; and he stopped at the gate, and looked between the rails of it; and he saw a pretty garden, with several beds of flowers in it; and there were nice, clean gravel-walks between these flower-beds, and all around the garden. And against the walls of the garden there were plum-trees and cherry-trees; and the cherries and plums looked as if they were quite ripe.
And Frank called to his mother, who was a little way off; and he said, “Mamma, come
And look at this pretty garden — I wish I might open this gate, and go in and walk in it.”
“My dear,” said his mother, “you must not open the gate. This garden does not belong to me, and I cannot give you leave to walk in it.”
There was a man nailing up a net over a cherry-tree in this garden, and he came to the gate, and opened it, and said, “Will you walk in, ma’am? This garden belongs to me, and you shall be very welcome to walk in it.” And Frank’s mother thanked the man; and she turned to Frank, and said, “If I take you with me, Frank, to walk in this garden, you must take care not to meddle with any thing in it.” And Frank said that he would not meddle with any thing in the garden; and his mother took him into it.
As he walked along the gravel-walks, he looked at every thing; but he did not touch any thing.
A very sweet smell came from two beds of pinks and carnations; and he stood at a little distance from them, looking at them; and the man to whom the garden belonged said to him, “Walk down this narrow path, master, between the beds, and you’ll see my carnations better.”
And Frank answered, “I should like to come down that narrow path, but I am afraid of coming, because the skirts of my coat, I am afraid, will brush against the flowers. I saw your coat, just now, sir, hit against the top of a flower, and it broke it.”
Frank’s mother smiled, and said, “I am glad, my dear little boy, that you are so careful not to do mischief.”
Frank did not tread upon any of the borders; and the person to whom the garden belonged, who was a gardener, said to his mother, “I hope, whenever you come this way again, ma’am, you’ll walk in this garden of mine, and bring this little gentleman with you; for I am sure, by what I see of him now, that he will not do me any mischief.” The gardener told Frank the names of several flowers; and he showed him the seeds of these flowers; and he showed Frank how these seeds should be sowed in the ground.
And whilst the gardener was showing Frank how to sow the seeds of mignionette, he heard a noise at the gate; and he looked, and he saw a boy, who was shaking the gate, and trying to get in; but the gate was locked, and the boy could not open it; and the boy called to the gardener, and said, “Let me in; let me in. Won’t you let me in?”
But the gardener answered, “No — I will not let you come in, sir, I assure you; for when I did let you in, yesterday, you meddled with my flowers, and you ate some of my cherries. I do not choose to let you in here again; I do not choose to let a dishonest boy into my garden, who meddles with what does not belong to him.”
This boy looked very much ashamed, and very sorry, that he might not come into the pretty garden; and he stood at the gate for some time; but when he found that the gardener would not let him in, he went slowly away.
A little while afterwards, Frank asked his mother why she did not gather some of the pinks in this garden; and his mother answered, “Because they are not mine; and I must not meddle with what does not belong to me.” —
“I did not know, till now, mamma,” said Frank, “that you must not meddle with what does not belong to you. I thought that people only said to little boys, You must not meddle with what does not belong to you.”
“My dear,” said Frank’s mother, “neither women, nor men, nor children, should meddle with what does not belong to them. Little children do not know this, till it is told to them.”
“And, mamma,” said Frank, “what is the reason that men, women, and children, should not meddle with what does not belong to them?”
Frank’s mother answered, “I cannot explain all the reasons to you yet, my dear; but should you like that any body should take flowers out of the little garden you have at home?”
“No, mamma, I should not.”
“And did you not see that the boy who just now came to this green gate was prevented by the gardener from coming into this garden, because, yesterday, the boy took flowers and fruit which did not belong to him? You, Frank, have not meddled with any of these flowers, or this fruit; and, you know, the gardener said, that he would let you come in here again, whenever I like to bring you with me.”
“I am very glad of that, mamma,” said Frank; “for I like to walk in this pretty garden; and I will take care not to meddle with any thing that does not belong to me.’
Then Frank’s mother said, “It is time that we should go home.” And Frank thanked the gardener for letting him walk in his garden, and for showing him how to sow seeds in the ground; and Frank went home with his mother.
A few days after Frank had been with his mother to walk in the garden that had the green gate, his mother said to him, “Frank, put on your hat, and come with me. I am going to the garden in which we walked two or three days ago.”
Frank was very glad to hear this. He put on his hat in an instant, and followed his mother, jumping and singing as he went along.
When he got into the fields which led to the garden with the green gate, Frank ran on before his mother. They came to a stile, upon which a boy, of about Frank’s size, was sitting, upon the uppermost step of the stile. He had a hat upon his knees, in which there were some nuts; and the boy was picking the white kernel of a nut out of its shell.
When the boy saw Frank, he said to him, “Do you want to get over this-stile?”
And Frank answered, “Yes, I do.”
The boy then got up from the step of the stile on which he was sitting; and he jumped down, and walked on, that he might make room for Frank to get over the stile.
Frank and his mother got over the stile; and, in the path in the next field, at a little distance from the stile, Frank saw a fine bunch of nuts.
“Mamma,” said Frank, “I think these nuts belong to that little boy who was sitting upon the stile, with nuts in his hat; perhaps he dropped them, and did not know it. May I pick them up, and run after the little boy, and give them to him?”
His mother said, “Yes, my dear; and I will go back with you to the boy.” So Frank picked up the nuts, and he and his mother went back; and he called to the little boy, who stopped when he heard him call.
And as soon as Frank got near to him, and a
s soon as he had breath to speak, Frank said to the boy, “Here are some nuts, which I believe are yours; I found them in the path, near that stile.”
“Thank you,” said the boy; “they are mine; I dropped them there; and I am much obliged to you for bringing them back to me.” Frank saw that the boy was glad to have his nuts again; and Frank was glad that he had found them, and that he had returned them to the person to whom they belonged.
Frank then went on with his mother; and they came to the garden with the green gate The gardener was tying the pinks and carnations to white sticks, which he stuck in the ground near them. He did this to prevent he flowers from hanging down in the dirt, and from being broken by the wind.
Frank told his mother that he thought he could tie up some of these flowers, and that he should like to try to do it.
She asked the gardener if he would let Frank try to help him.
The gardener said he would; and he gave Frank, a bundle of sticks, and some strings made of bass mat; and Frank stuck the sticks in the ground, and tied the pinks and carnations to them; and he said, “Mamma, I am of some use;” and he was happy whilst he was employed in this manner...
After the flowers were all tied up, the gardener went to the cherry-tree, which was nailed up against the wall, and he took down the net, which was spread over it.
Frank asked his mother why this net had been spread over it. —
She told him that it was to prevent the birds from pecking at and eating the cherries.
The cherries looked very ripe, and the gardener began to gather them.
Frank asked whether he might help him o — gather some of the cherries.
His mother said, “Yes; I think the gardener will trust you to gather his cherries, Because he has seen that you have not meddled with any of his things without his leave.”
The gardener said that he would trust him; and Frank was glad; and he gathered all the cherries that he could reach, that were ripe.
The gardener desired that he would not gather any that were not ripe; and his mother showed Frank a ripe and an unripe cherry, that he might know the difference between them; and she asked the gardener if he would let Frank taste these two cherries, that he might know the difference in the taste.
“If you please, ma’am,” said the gardener; and Frank tasted the cherries; and he found that the ripe cherry was sweet, and the unripe cherry was sour.
The gardener told him that the cherries which were now unripe would grow ripe in a few days, if they were left to hang upon the tree, and if the sun shone.
And Frank said, “Mamma, if you let me come with you here in a few days, I will look at these cherries, that I may see whether they do grow ripe.”
Frank took care to gather only the cherries that were ripe; and when he had filled the basket into which the gardener asked him to put them, the gardener picked out five or six bunches of the ripest cherries, and he offered them to Frank. —
“May I have them, mamma?” said Frank His mother said, “Yes, you may, my dear.’ Then he took them; and he thanked the gardener for giving them to him; and after this, he and his mother left the garden, and returned towards home. —
He asked his mother to eat some of the cherries, and she took one bunch; and she said that she liked them.
“And I will keep another bunch for papa,” said Frank, “because I know he likes cherries.”
And Frank ate all the rest of the cherries, except the bunch which he kept for his father; and he said, “I wish, mother, you would give me a little garden, and some mignionette-seeds, to sow in it.”
She answered, “This is not the time of year in which mignionette-seeds should be sown. The seeds will not grow, if you sow them now; we must wait till spring.”
Frank was going to say, “How many months will it be between this time and spring?” but he forgot what he was going to say, because he saw a boy in the field in which they were walking, who had something made of white paper in his hand, which was fluttering in the wind.
“What is that, mamma?” said Frank.
“It is a paper kite, my dear,” said his mother; “you shall see the boy flying this kite, if you please.”
“I do not know what you mean by flying the kite, mamma,” said Frank.
“Look at what the boy is doing, and you will see.”
Frank looked; and he saw the paper kite blown up by the wind; and it mounted up higher than the trees, and went higher and higher, till it seemed to touch the clouds, and till it appeared no larger than a little black spot; and at last Frank lost sight of it entirely.
The boy who had been flying the kite now ran up to the place where Frank was standing; and Frank saw that he was the same boy to whom he had returned the nuts.
The boy held one end of a string in his hand; and the other end of the string, Frank’s mother told him, was fastened to the kite. The boy pulled the string towards him, and wound it up on a bit of wood; and Frank saw the paper kite again, coming downwards; and it fell lower, and lower, and lower; and, at last, it fell to the ground.
The boy to whom it belonged went to fetch it; and Frank’s mother said, “Now we must make haste and go home.” —
Frank followed his mother, asking her several questions about the kite; and he did not perceive that he had not his bunch of cherries in his hand, till he was near home. When his mother said, “There is your father coming to meet us,” Frank cried, “O mamma, my cherries, the nice bunch of cherries, that I kept to give him — I have dropped them — I have lost them. I am very sorry for it; may I run back to look for them? I think I dropped them whilst I was looking at the kite. May I go back to that field, and look for them?”
“No, my dear,” said his mother; “it is just dinner-time.”
Frank was sorry for this; and he looked back towards the field where he lost his cherries; and he saw the boy with the kite in his hand, running very fast across the field nearest to him.
“I think he seems to be running to us, mamma,” said Frank. “Will you wait one minute?”
His mother stopped; and the boy ran up to them, quite out of breath. He held his kite in one hand, and in the other hand he held Frank’s bunch of cherries.
“O, my cherries! thank you for bringing them to me,” said Frank.
“You seem to be as glad as I was, when you brought me my nuts,” said the boy. “You dropped the cherries in the field where I was flying my kite. I knew they were yours, because I saw them in your hand, when you were looking at my kite.”
Frank thanked the boy again for returning them to him; and his mother also said to the boy, “Thank you, my little honest boy.”
“I was honest, mamma, when I returned his nuts to him; and he was honest when he returned my cherries. I liked him for being honest, and he liked me for being honest. I will always be honest about every thing, as well as about nuts.” Then Frank ran to meet his father, with the ripe bunch of cherries, and gave them to him; and his father liked them very much.
The evening after Frank had seen the boy flying a kite, he asked his father if he would be so good as to give him a kite.
“My dear,” said his father, “I am busy now; I am writing a letter; and I, cannot think about kites now. Do not talk to me about kites, when I am busy.” —
When his father had finished writing his letter, he folded it up, and took some sealing-wax to seal it; and Frank watched the sealing-wax, as it was melted by the heat of the candle. He saw that his father let some of the melted sealing-wax drop upon the paper; and then he pressed the seal down upon the wax, which had dropped upon the paper, and which was then soft.
When the seal was taken up, Frank saw that there was the figure of the head of a man upon the wax. And he looked at the bottom of the seal; and he said, “This is the same head that there is upon the wax, only this on the seal goes inwards, and that on the wax comes outwards.”
He touched the wax upon which the seal had been pressed; and he felt that it was now cold and hard; and he said, “Papa
, are you busy now?”
And his father said that he was not busy.
And Frank asked him if he would drop some more wax on a bit of paper, and press the seal down upon it.
“Yes,” said his father; “you were not troublesome to me, when I said that I was busy. Now I have leisure to attend to you, my dear.”
His father then took out of a drawer three different seals; and he sealed three different letters with these, and let Frank see him drop the wax upon the paper, and press the seals upon the soft wax.
“Papa, will you give me leave to try if I can do it myself?” said Frank.
“My dear,” said his father, “I will; but I advise you to take care not to let any of the melted wax drop upon your hands, for it will burn you if you do.” —
Frank was in a great hurry to melt the wax. His mother called to him, and said, “Gently, Frank, or you will let the wax drop upon your hand, and burn yourself.”
But he said, “O, no, mamma; it will not burn me.”
And, just after he had said this, a drop of the melted sealing-wax fell upon the forefinger of his hand, and burned him; and he squeezed his finger as hard as he could, to try to stop the feeling of pain. “It hurts me very much mamma! I wish I had minded what you said to me; but I will not cry — I will bear it well.”
“You do bear it well,” said his father; “shake hands with me, with the hand that is not burnt.”
A few minutes afterwards, Frank said that he did not feel the pain any longer; and he asked his father if he would give him leave to have the sealing-wax again, and try whether he could not make such a seal as he had seen on his father’s letter, without burning himself.
“You did not burn yourself, papa,” said Frank; “and if I take care, and do it as you did, I shall not burn myself. May I try again?”
“Yes, my dear,” said his father; “and I am glad to see that you wish to try again, though you have had a little pain.”
His father showed him, once more, how to hold the wax to the candle, and how to drop it, when melting, upon the paper, without burning himself.
Complete Novels of Maria Edgeworth Page 584