<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<h1 class='c001'>THE<br/> <br/>STORY OF A NEEDLE</h1>
<p class='c006'><span class='c007'>BY A. L. O. E.</span></p>
<div class='chapter'><h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER I.<br/> <br/><span class="blackletter">MY EDUCATION.</span></h2></div>
<div class='c010'>
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<p class='drop-capi1_1'>
I REALLY can say nothing of my earliest
days except from report. I have
heard, but I can hardly believe it,
that I was once part of a rough mass
of iron ore, that had lain for ages in
a dark mine in Cornwall; that I was dug out,
and put into a huge furnace, and heated till I
became red-hot, and melted; that I was made
into part of an iron bar, and when in a fiery
glow was suddenly plunged into cold water,
which changed my whole constitution and
name, for iron was thenceforth called steel. I
can just fancy how the water fizzed and hissed,
<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>and how my fiery flush faded suddenly away,
and I became again quite black in the face! I
can fancy all this, as I said, but I really remember
nothing about it.</p>
<p class='c006'>Nor have I any recollection of being drawn
out into wire, forced to push myself through
little holes, smaller and smaller, till I was long
enough and slim enough for the purpose for
which the manufacturer designed me. My
very earliest remembrance is of finding myself
lying on an anvil, along with thousands of
others of my species. But you must not fancy
me then, gentle reader, in the least like the
neat, trim, bright little article that now has the
pleasure of addressing you. I fancy that I
looked uncommonly like a bit of steel wire,
neither useful nor ornamental.</p>
<p class='c006'>While I lay quietly reflecting in a kind of
dull, sleepy doze, for at that time I was not
sharp at all, a violent blow on one end of me
startled me not a little—I had been hit on
that side as flat as a pancake!</p>
<p class='c006'>“What next?” thought I. I had little
time for thinking. I was popped into the fire
in a minute, but taken out again before I had
<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>time to melt. Then down came another blow
upon me, which had quite a different effect
from the first. It pierced out a little hole in
my flat head, and I received the advantage of
having an eye. No sooner did I possess it than
I began to use it. I peered around me with
much curiosity, now on the long brick building
in which I found myself; now on the rough
care-worn faces of the workmen, reddened by
the glow of the fire-light; now on the multitude
of baby needles around me, all looking up
with their little round eyes.</p>
<p class='c006'>I was now placed upon a block of lead, and
my eye was punched to bring out the little bit
of steel, which was neither tidy nor convenient.
Then, to improve the shape of my flat head, it
was filed a little on both sides.</p>
<p class='c006'>I felt now tolerably well satisfied with myself—something
like a child (for I have since
seen a good deal of the world) when it has
mastered the first difficulties of learning, and
begins to fancy itself a genius. But there was
a good deal more of filing, and heating, and polishing
before me; education is a slow and troublesome
matter, whether to children or needles!</p>
<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>I am afraid that I should tire you, dear
reader, were I to give you the whole story of
how I was filed into a point; how I thought
the file hard, disagreeable, and rough, as many
young folk have thought their teachers; how I
was then heated in a fire till I grew as red as
naughty boys who have been caned by their
master; then left to cool in a basin of cold
water, like the same boys shut up to think
over the matter.</p>
<p class='c006'>Then I and a number of my companions
were held in a shovel over the fire, and stirred
about, and then straightened with blows of the
hammer. I thought that I must now be quite
perfect; but never was needle more mistaken.
How could I go through linen, cloth, and silk—how
could young gentlemen and ladies go
through the world—without a proper degree of
polish! Thousands of us were put on a piece
of buckram sprinkled with emery dust; more
emery dust was thrown over us, and then a
small quantity of oil; for I wish that every
teacher would remember that though the emery
of discipline is necessary enough, it works best
when laid on with the sweet oil of kindness.</p>
<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>Oh, if I could only describe the rolling backwards
and forwards, the rubbing and scrubbing
again and again, the washing, the wiping, the
smoothing on a stone, thought necessary to
complete a good needle! Depend upon it, dear
reader, your reading and writing, your sums
and your tables, nay, even the terrible dog’s-eared
grammar, are nothing to what the smallest
needle must go through before it is fit to
appear in the world!</p>
<div class='pbb'>
<hr class='pb c014' /></div>
<div class='chapter'><span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>
<h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER II.<br/> <br/>MY FIRST ADVENTURE.</h2></div>
<div class='c010'>
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<p class='drop-capi1_1'>
OUR education being now finished, two
hundred and fifty of us were packed
up together, and remained in darkness
and seclusion for some time. We
were then removed, separated, and in
smaller numbers placed in neat little dark-coloured
papers, and kept in a box in a shop.
Of all the tiresome parts of my life, this was
the most tiresome by far. I longed for the
moment when I should be taken from the
prison, and see a little of the world. I was
quite discontented with my state.</p>
<p class='c006'>“Why was I made, if not to be used?”
thought I. “Why have I undergone all this
heating, hitting, and polishing? why am I so
sharp, so neat, so bright, if not to make some
<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>figure in the world?” I was only a young
needle, you see, and impatience is natural to
youth: I am not the only one who has found
it hard to stay contentedly in the position in
which he has been placed.</p>
<p class='c006'>At length I felt myself moved (you know
that I could see nothing out of my paper). I
believe that I had been bought and sold; and
though not at once released from my confinement,
I felt reasonable hopes that I soon should
be so. Nor were my expectations disappointed.</p>
<p class='c006'>“Oh, mamma! dear mamma! what a sweet
little work-box—and all fitted up so nicely!”
exclaimed a childish voice near me. I longed
to have a peep at the speaker.</p>
<p class='c006'>“I hope that it may assist my Lily to be a
tidy, useful little girl, such as her mother would
wish to see her.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“What a pretty silver thimble! and it fits
me exactly; just see! You’ve left a place for
my scissors, as I have a nice pair already.
What neat, tiny reels!—and what’s this? a
yard measure—ah! and here is wax to make
my thread strong! Thank you, dear mamma,
again and again!”</p>
<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>I confess that I was rather in a state of irritation.
Nobody seemed to be thinking in the
least about me; after all my finished education,
it was not thought worth while even to give
me a look. At length my paper was moved,
very roughly torn open, light flashed upon its
contents, and I and my companions were scattered
in every direction, I alighting on the
Holland pinafore of a fair, chubby-faced boy,
who had been the author of the mischief.</p>
<p class='c006'>“Oh, Eddy! you tiresome child! if you
would only leave my box alone—just see what
you’ve done with my needles!”</p>
<p class='c006'>I seized the opportunity of looking around
me, in no hurry for my resting-place to be discovered.
I found myself in a very comfortable
room, full of so many things to excite my
curiosity, that I felt as though I could have
gazed for ever! But perhaps what interested
me most was my first sight of the human
beings who occupied the apartment. They
were so unlike the workmen to whom I had
been accustomed, that I examined them just as
a philosopher might examine some newly-discovered
curiosity.</p>
<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>In the first place, there was a gentle, blue-eyed
lady, who sat near the table on which the
work-box was placed; while on her knee rested
a very plump little child, calmly engaged in
sucking her thumb. A girl of about ten years
of age (I knew nothing of ages then, and had
not a notion of anything growing, but I have
since learned much from observation) was on
her knees, searching for her needles. She was
evidently to be my future mistress, and I anxiously
glanced into her face to read what sort of
a child she might be. I scarcely knew whether
her countenance pleased me or not. She
had light eyes, like her mamma; rather a
turned-up little nose, which gave her a somewhat
saucy expression; and I am sorry to say
that, just at that moment, I saw on her brow
sundry creases, which did not give me an idea
of good temper. I know that it is a foolish
feeling of mine, but whenever I see those ugly
creases rising on the brow of a little boy or
girl, I always feel inclined to bestow on them
a little prick, just by way of good counsel, you
understand! I have seen lines, and very deep
lines, made on the forehead by care; I could
<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>just faintly trace some on that of Mrs. Ellerslie;
they became only too distinct in the
course of time, but they never for a moment
altered the gentle expression of her face.</p>
<p class='c006'>I think now that I hear her soft voice as
she said,—</p>
<p class='c006'>“Oh, Lily, do not be so much vexed with
your brother. You know that he is only a
little boy. Come, my Eddy, let us help to
look for the needles; you must not touch the
papers again!”</p>
<p class='c006'>I cannot say much for Eddy’s skill or industry
in the search; he was much more intent
on making baby laugh by snapping his fingers
and grinning at her, turning his head knowingly
first on one side, then on the other, till
he succeeded in drawing from her a merry crow,
and a smile showed her little toothless gums.</p>
<p class='c006'>Such success elated Eddy, and, determined
to press a good kiss on that sweet little mouth,
he came close—too close to her, alas! for he
caused me to inflict, I am sorry to confess it, a
very tiny scratch on the baby’s plump white
arm.</p>
<p class='c006'>You should have heard what a scream she
<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>set up! I really felt quite embarrassed: was
this to be the commencement of my career, was
I to begin my services by mischief? You
must consider also, gentle reader, that my astonishment
was very great at the effect produced
by my head simply rubbing against a
child’s arm! I myself, though not a thousandth
part of the size of the baby, had borne
hammering, bruising, and battering, not only in
silence, but with little inconvenience; and here
the smallest touch seemed to excite terror and
pain such as had never even entered into my
fancy. Ah! I soon found how very different
the human species is from ours; how easily
their tender flesh is wounded, and—what I
thought still more strange—how easily their
feelings are pained! It has seemed to me,
from what I have observed in life, and from
what I have heard from companions of my
own, possessing greater experience, that there
are some human beings whose great business
seems to be, pricking and paining the hearts of
those around them; as if life were not full enough
of sorrows without our wilfully bringing them
upon our neighbours.</p>
<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>Eddy seemed much more penitent for having
hurt baby than for having overthrown Lily’s
paper of needles, though the latter action had
been the cause of the former. He joined his
mother and sister in trying to soothe little
Rosey, and assured her so often that he was
“very, very sorry,” and called her by so many
sweet names, “little pet, darling, and duck,”
and kissed the scratched arm so often, that she
soon appeared quite pacified. I was not so
well pleased at the titles which he gave me,
throwing all the blame on “the naughty, ugly
needle,” that had been the innocent cause of
her pain. I was rather in ill humour when
Lily hastily replaced me in the work-box, not
dreaming of putting me back in my paper, but
sticking me unceremoniously into the red silk
which lined the top of the box. And there I
was to remain, in company with other articles
of metal, with which I soon entered into acquaintance;
for all the metals are naturally
related to each other, and I was able to make
myself understood by everything bearing the
nature of a mineral.</p>
<div class='pbb'>
<hr class='pb c014' /></div>
<div class='chapter'><span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>
<h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER III.<br/> <br/>CONVERSATION IN A WORK-BOX.</h2></div>
<div class='c010'>
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<p class='drop-capi1_1'>
“WELL, what do you think of your new
life?” said the Scissors, as soon as
we were left quietly in the box.
Perhaps I had better pause for a
moment to describe my new companion,
before I record our conversation.</p>
<p class='c006'>The pair of Scissors, with which I had now
to make acquaintance, had rather an old-fashioned
air. One end was rounded, the other
had been sharp, but a little piece had been
broken off the point. I fancy that I detected
on one of the handles something reddish, like a
little speck of rust, and the brightness of the
whole article was dimmed. This was doubtless
a mark of antiquity, and it was in the patronizing
manner of one who was aware of her
<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>own superiority, that Mrs. Scissors repeated her
question, “Pray, what do you think of your
new life?”</p>
<p class='c006'>“I have hardly had time to judge,” was my
reply; “but I am rather hurt at the way in
which that little boy laid the whole blame of
his own fault upon me.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“Oh, that is what you must always expect,”
laughed the Scissors; “a bad shearer never has
good shears. I’ve been these ten years in the
family, and I’ve always found it the same.
When Miss Lily took it into her head to imitate
the hairdresser, and practise upon Eddy’s flaxen
poll, when I glanced aside, and snipped his little
ear, whose fault was that but ‘the stupid
Scissors’!’ And when I was seized upon to
open a nailed box, whose contents the young
lady was impatient to see, whose fault was
it when my poor point suddenly snapped?
why, ‘the good-for-nothing Scissors’,’ to be
sure.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“I hope that I shall not be treated in such
a way,” said I, rather alarmed at her words;
“it would be too bad, after the trouble that has
been taken to form me, after having had to pass
<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>to perfection through so many hands, to be
snapped by a careless child.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“You would have nothing but the dust-hole
before you,” said the Scissors. I thought the
remark very unpleasant.</p>
<p class='c006'>“I almost wish that I had remained in my
mine,” sighed I.</p>
<p class='c006'>“Oh no,” said a soft voice beside me, and I
remarked a beautiful little Thimble, of a metal
unknown to me before, so bright, and white,
and shining, that I felt at once that it was of
superior nature.</p>
<p class='c006'>“Would you wish,” she continued, “to lie
useless, to be of no benefit to any? Has not
man refined, formed, polished, improved you,
and exerted the powers of his reason to render
you an instrument of good?”</p>
<p class='c006'>“What has man’s reason to do with us?”
said I.</p>
<p class='c006'>“I know not whether I can explain myself
clearly,” replied the Thimble, “but I will endeavour
to show you what I mean. Man has
been gifted with a power called reason; by this
he governs the world, by this he subdues creatures
stronger than himself, and makes all things
<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>combine to serve him. He has discovered that
iron possesses a strength which he may turn to
valuable account. It would be endless labour to
plough the fields, if the ground had to be torn
up by the hand; it would be terrible work to
reap the corn, if each blade had to be pulled off
by the fingers. Man determined to aid his
own weakness by the wonderful strength of
iron. He made the ploughshare, and the furrows
are turned up; he made the sickle, and
the sheaves are gathered; huge trees, which he
would never have had force to pull down, are
laid low by a few strokes of his axe.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“There is no doubt but that ours is the most
useful metal by far,” said the Scissors, with
something of a sneer. “Who would use ploughshares,
or sickles, or axes of silver? Precious
little work they would do!”</p>
<p class='c006'>“I grant it,” said the Thimble, with perfect
good-humour; “but we all have our place in
the world, we all have some good purpose to
fulfil. Zinc, lead, tin, arsenic, platina, nickel—”</p>
<p class='c006'>“Stop, stop,” I exclaimed, overwhelmed with
such a list; “I never knew there were so many
metals before.”</p>
<div id='i024a' class='figcenter id001'>
<ANTIMG src='images/i024a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
<div class='ic002'>
<p><span class='c003'>“Mamma, please, will you lay down the hem for me?” said Lily.<br/><i>Page <SPAN href='#Page_27'>27</SPAN>.</i></span></p>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>“Nay,” replied the Thimble gaily, “I have
not numbered one half of them,—</p>
<div class='lg-container-b c016'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“Manganese, cobalt, rhodium,</div>
<div class='line in1'>Copper, potassium, sodium—”</div>
</div>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“Who ever such names bestowed on ’em?</div>
<div class='line in1'>Such long names I hold in odium!”</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class='c017'>cried I.</p>
<p class='c006'>“There’s rhyme, but not reason,” laughed
the Thimble.</p>
<p class='c006'>“If it is hard to number up the metals,” I
observed, “how impossible must it be to count
all the uses to which they are put!”</p>
<p class='c006'>“Impossible indeed,” said the Thimble. “Man
avails himself every day, every hour, of the
treasures which he has won from the mine—for</p>
<div class='lg-container-b c016'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“Ploughing, digging, and hoeing;</div>
<div class='line in1'>Cooking, ironing, mowing;</div>
<div class='line in1'>Cutting, sawing, and sewing;</div>
<div class='line in1'>Holding the embers glowing;</div>
<div class='line in1'>Speeding the vessel’s going;</div>
<div class='line in1'>Music, when horns are blowing;</div>
<div class='line in1'>Money, when debts are owing;</div>
<div class='line in1'>Bridges, where streams are flowing,</div>
<div class='line in1'>Lace, where finery’s showing;</div>
<div class='line in1'>Greenhouse, where plants are growing—”</div>
</div>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“In short, there’s no counting or knowing</div>
<div class='line in1'>All that man to metals is owing!”</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class='c017'>cried I.</p>
<div class='pbb'>
<hr class='pb c014' /></div>
<div class='chapter'><span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>
<h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER IV.<br/> <br/>A MOTHER’S DELIGHTS.</h2></div>
<div class='c010'>
<ANTIMG class='drop-capi' src='images/di-s.jpg' width-obs='100' alt='' /></div>
<p class='drop-capi1_1'>
“SEWING! how I hate sewing! I wonder
what use there is in my learning
to sew,” exclaimed Lily, in rather a
fretful tone, as she took me out of the
box.</p>
<p class='c006'>“I wonder what’s the use of learning to
spell!” yawned little Eddy over a dog’s-eared
book, as he sat on a stool close by his mother.</p>
<p class='c006'>Mrs. Ellerslie was busy at her desk, examining
her monthly accounts, with a grave and
anxious expression. She was interrupted, in
the midst of summing up a long bill, by her
little girl bringing her work to her.</p>
<p class='c006'>“Mamma—”</p>
<p class='c006'>“Yes, my dear,” said Mrs. Ellerslie, without
raising her eyes, and continued murmuring half
<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>aloud, “Thirteen pounds and a half at seven-pence
three-farthings—I thought there must be
an error somewhere.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“Mamma, please will you lay down the hem
for me?”</p>
<p class='c006'>“Really, my love, I am very busy at present.
I think that, after all the trouble which I have
taken to teach you, you might manage to do
that for yourself;” and again she went on with
her accounts; while Lily, looking rather discontented,
slowly returned to her seat.</p>
<p class='c006'>“Mamma,” said Eddy, rising, and laying his
book on her knee, “I know my lesson.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“Wait a minute, my boy; I will hear you
almost directly.”</p>
<p class='c006'>So Eddy waited cheerfully enough, and, to
amuse himself in the meantime, began trying to
mend his mother’s pen, to the no small damage
of the pen, and the imminent risk of his own
fingers.</p>
<p class='c006'>“Oh, Eddy, put that knife down!” exclaimed
the harassed lady, when she had raised her
head for a moment to see the nature of his occupation.
“Come, you had better say your
lesson at once,” she continued, hopelessly laying
<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>down the bill, and taking up the spelling book.
She was too gentle, too loving, to be irritable
or peevish; but petty cares and petty troubles
were wearing out her strength, and damping
the spirits which had once been so light. I
saw that though Mrs. Ellerslie fondly loved her
children, she could not help feeling them a
weariness to her; and though they had much
affection for their mother, they had little consideration
for her comfort.</p>
<p class='c006'>“Now, Eddy,” said Mrs. Ellerslie, as the
little gentleman stood with his arms pressed
down to his sides before her, “how do you spell
the word <i>pan</i>?”</p>
<p class='c006'>“B-o-y,” replied Eddy, with emphasis.</p>
<p class='c006'>“Oh, fie! that’s not knowing your lesson.
You had better look it over again,” she continued,
as a servant brought in a note with the
words, “The messenger is waiting for an answer.”</p>
<p class='c006'>In the meantime, I was making my first
essay in sewing; and though, I assure you, it
was from no fault of mine, a lamentably bungling
essay it was. The hem laid down by my
little mistress was in some parts twice as broad
<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>as in others, while in one place the edge was
scarcely turned in at all. I was quite hurt at
the crooked stitches which Lily forced me to
make, and I wondered to myself whether she
worked thus from stupidity or a wilful temper.</p>
<p class='c006'>While the lady read and answered the note
in haste, Eddy sat demurely on his stool, leaning
his elbows on his knees, and his chin on the
palm of his hands, as if buried in profound
study. As soon as the servant had left the
room, he came again to his mother with,—</p>
<p class='c006'>“Mamma, I know my lesson now.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“What do p-i-n make?” said the lady.</p>
<p class='c006'>“<i>Pin</i>,” replied Eddy; for which correct
answer he received a smile and a quiet “That’s
right.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“And what do p-i-n-e make?” continued his
mother.</p>
<p class='c006'>“<i>Needle!</i>” shouted out the child with decision.
Mrs. Ellerslie laid the book down on her
knee. “I’m afraid that I must turn you again,
Eddy.”</p>
<p class='c006'>Eddy pouted as he took back his lesson, and
before Mrs. Ellerslie resumed her accounts, she
<span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>said to Lily, “Let me see how you are getting
on with your work.”</p>
<p class='c006'>Lily brought it reluctantly to her mother.</p>
<p class='c006'>“Oh fie! this will never do! Are you not
ashamed of such hemming?”</p>
<p class='c006'>“I couldn’t lay down the hem right,” said
Lily very dolefully.</p>
<p class='c006'>“Could not, or would not, Lily? I am sure
that you can work more neatly than that. Just
take it back and unpick it nicely.”</p>
<p class='c006'>Lily coloured, and as she bent over me again,
I saw a big tear fall close beside me.</p>
<p class='c006'>“Three and eight, nine and four,” murmured
Mrs. Ellerslie over her accounts. “Lily, hold
up your head; you must not stoop so my
child. Eddy, do not pull off your buttons.”
She leaned her head upon her hand. I believe
that it was aching, and so Lily would have suspected
had she looked at that pale face; but
the young lady was gloomily proceeding with
her work, and perhaps grumbling in her heart
at the little task which she might so easily
have performed.</p>
<p class='c006'>It was clear to me that the poor mother was
to have no peace, for again she was interrupted
<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>to pay the washerwoman, and had scarcely
finished that small piece of business, rendered
troublesome by not having enough of change,
when there was a sound of crying from the
room above.</p>
<p class='c006'>“Is not that baby’s voice?” exclaimed Mrs.
Ellerslie, half rising from her seat. She glanced
at Lily, probably intending to send her on a
message—at least it appeared so from the
movement of her head; but Lily had no idea
of reading the wishes of her mother, and kept
sullenly pricking me in and out, sitting as if
fastened to her seat. Mrs. Ellerslie, therefore,
took the shortest way of settling the matter,
and herself ran upstairs to the baby.</p>
<p class='c006'>Master Eddy took advantage of her absence
to clamber up her vacant chair, and make himself
acquainted with the contents of her desk.
A very little care on the part of Lily might
have prevented him from doing any mischief;
but, whether from ill-temper or inattention, she
took no notice whatever of his pranks. When
Mrs. Ellerslie re-entered the room, she found
her ink-bottle overturned on the table, and a
black stream flowing down on the carpet, which
<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>her little boy was attempting to stop with a
handful of bills.</p>
<p class='c006'>“Oh, Eddy, Eddy, what have you done!”
cried the poor lady. “Lily, run quickly and
call down the housemaid. I cannot leave the
room for a minute,” she added, provoked beyond
even her powers of endurance, “but some
mischief is sure to occur.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“Mamma, I didn’t know there was ink in
the bottle—I only turned it up to see if
there was any; but I’m trying to wipe it
all up.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“Oh dear! the bills!—and your hands and
pinafore; just see what a state they are in!
You must run up to Sarah directly!”</p>
<p class='c006'>“I’ll never do so any more!” cried Eddy,
looking at his blackened fingers, and beginning
to whimper.</p>
<p class='c006'>When the housemaid had performed her
office, and the children had been sent up to
prepare for their walk—happily the weather
was not rainy—the weary, delicate mother
again took her place before the table, and pushing
aside the blackened heaps of bills, which
she had now hardly a hope of being able to
<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>make out, she leaned back upon her chair and
sighed.</p>
<p class='c006'>“The children are too much for me!” she
murmured to herself; “I really have not the
strength to do them justice. I must ask
Edward to let me have a governess. But no;
how could I think of such a thing, after the
hint which he gave me about expense, after his
parting with his own horse and gig, and giving
up the trip into Wales? He spoke, too, of the
expense of keeping George at school! I am sure
that there is something weighing upon his
mind; shall I add to it the burden of my petty
cares? No, no; whatever my dear husband finds
to annoy him in the busy, bustling world, he
must find his own home a quiet haven of rest.
I must manage as well as I can, and always have
a cheerful smile for him! One comfort is, that
George’s holidays are so near;—my own boy,
what a welcome he shall have!” and her lips
parted with a pleasant smile, and the lines upon
her pale brow quite disappeared, as if smoothed
down by an invisible hand.</p>
<p class='c006'>“This is odd enough!” thought I, as I lay
half out of the work-box, sticking in my unfortunate
<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>hem; “three children are more than
this poor lady can manage. I should have
thought that a fourth would have driven her
wild!”</p>
<div class='pbb'>
<hr class='pb c014' /></div>
<div class='chapter'><span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>
<h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER V.<br/> <br/>A PERFECT METAL.</h2></div>
<div class='c010'>
<ANTIMG class='drop-capi' src='images/di-i.jpg' width-obs='100' alt='' /></div>
<p class='drop-capi1_1'>
“I AM not very sorry,” observed I to the
Thimble, “that careless Miss Lily has
forgotten to replace our companion,
Mrs. Scissors, in the box. Her manners
are so sharp, her remarks so cutting,
that I take little pleasure in her society.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“She has a little speck of rust on her, I
own,” quietly replied my philosophic friend;
“but we must all learn to bear patiently with
the weaknesses of others, and see that we keep
our own metal bright.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“You have no difficulty about that,” I observed.</p>
<p class='c006'>“Pardon me,” answered the Thimble; “silver
is not subject to rust, but it tarnishes, especially
if exposed to impure, smoky air.”</p>
<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>“And was your origin as low as mine?” I
inquired; “were you also dug from the earth?”</p>
<p class='c006'>“I was dug out of a mine in Norway; I
have been, like you, purified in a furnace, and
exposed to heavy blows of the hammer.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“I wonder how long it is,” exclaimed I,
“since man first found out the use of metals,
and employed them in making whatever he
requires!”</p>
<p class='c006'>“The use of metals was known before the
time of the Flood, more than four thousand
years ago. Tubal-Cain is the name of the first
man who is recorded to have worked in metals.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“Oh!” cried I, “how much I should like to
know who it was who first invented needles!”</p>
<p class='c006'>“I dare say that the invention is of early
date,” replied the Thimble, “though the needles
of ancient times were probably far inferior to
the polished, delicate articles of which I see so
fine a specimen before me. I have heard that
needles were first manufactured in England by
an Indian, in the reign of stout Harry the
Eighth, upwards of three hundred years ago.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“Well,” I exclaimed in admiration, “what
it is to have a thimbleful of information! I
<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>shall always couple silver and knowledge together,
the best metal and the best thing in the
world!”</p>
<p class='c006'>“Ah, there you are wrong!” said my bright
companion; “there is a metal far more precious
than silver, and a possession even more valuable
than knowledge. What is learning compared
to virtue! what is silver compared to gold!”</p>
<p class='c006'>“Gold! what is that?” said I. You must
remember that I was but a young needle, with
little information, but eager to obtain more.</p>
<p class='c006'>“Gold is what is called a perfect metal,”
replied the Thimble; “it is injured by neither
fire nor water, and it is reckoned of great value
in the world. It is found chiefly in South
America, California, and lately in the immense
island of Australia.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“And has it to submit to the hammer as
well as we?” I inquired.</p>
<p class='c006'>“It has much more wonderful power of
enduring it than either silver or steel,” replied
the Thimble. “It never breaks beneath the
heaviest stroke, but it spreads itself out beneath
it, and that to such an amazing extent that I
have heard that a bit of gold not so large as a
<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>halfpenny can be beaten out into a wire a
thousand miles long.”</p>
<p class='c006'>I was not a little astonished to hear this, and
I was still more so as the Thimble proceeded.</p>
<p class='c006'>“Look around you, and, even in this room,
you will see wonderful proofs of the malleability
of gold—that is the name given to this curious
property which it possesses. See the picture-frames
glittering in the light, the shining
pattern on the paper on the wall, the edge of
all those gaily bound books; they owe their
beauty to a layer of gold so thin that, though
that metal is one of the heaviest known, the
gentlest sigh would have blown the leaves
away.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“And is gold useful for anything but gilding?”
said I.</p>
<p class='c006'>“It is much used in various ways,” she replied;
“amongst others, it was formerly much
employed in medicine, and is now used in giving
a fine red colour to glass.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“And is this beautiful and wonderful metal
also dug out of the earth?”</p>
<p class='c006'>“It is procured in some places,” answered the
Thimble, “by washing carefully sand drawn
<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>from the beds of some rivers, which is mixed
with particles of gold; but it is chiefly found
by digging.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“Well, then,” cried I, rather triumphantly,
“though silver and gold be both esteemed more
perfect and more precious than iron and steel,
man would have very little chance of gaining
either of them without the help of a humbler
metal! If silver be like knowledge, and virtue
like gold, to what shall iron be compared.”</p>
<p class='c006'>“To firm resolution,” said the Thimble
thoughtfully, “without which man would acquire
little of either.”</p>
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