Mamma's tales, or, Pleasing stories of childhood : adapted to the infant mind

* CHILDREN'S BOOK |[

COLLECTION

1 *

•jfr LIBRARY OF THE ^

$ UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA «

LOS ANGELES

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA
LOS ANGELES

"Che ©Itot ptraoal
Collection of

Children's Books

FRONTISPIECE.

THE LITTLE LAME.

MAMMA's TALES;

PLEASING STORIES OF CHILDHOOD,

ADAPTED TO

THE INFANT MIND.

BY MADAME LEINSTEIN,

AUTHOR OF
RUDIMENTS OF GRAMMAR IN VERSE; PUNCTUATION IN VERSE;

Sec. £c.

EMBELLISHED WITH
THIRTEEN BEAUTIFULLY COLOURED ENGRAVINGS.

PRINTED FOR

A.K. NEWMAN & Co., LEA DEN HALL-STREET.

PRICE OSE-SHILUWi.

MAMMA's TALES.

THE LITTLE LAMB.

LUCY was a very good girl, and seldom
did any thing to vex her parents; but Jane
would pout and scream for the least trifle.
She never went into the fields, but a fly,
or some other harmless insect, was sure to
alarm her, and send her home crying in
great terror. It was in vain that Lucy,
from time to time, tried to convince Jane
of the folly of being so timid ; Jane grew
worse every day.

One lovely morning in May, the weather
proving fine, and the sun shining through
a clear blue sky, these little girls were let
out to play in the meadows, and, for an
hour or more, pleased themselves by pluck-
2

8 MAMMA'S TALES.

ing daisies and cowslips, and such pretty
flowers as abound in the green grass, when
Jane, coming near a hedge, in order to ga-
ther a branch of whitethorn, started at the
sound of a mournful sigh, which issued
from beneath a tuft of brambles. In an in-
stant she ran off towards the house, scream-
ing, and hid herself behind the door, with-
out giving a reason to any one for the
cause of her terror.

In the meanwhile, Lucy, who also heard
the sound beneath the brambles, felt that
the voice of distress could not intend harm
either to herself or her sister; and thus this
charming little girl, led on by pity, drew
nearer to the hedge, in order, if in her
power, to perform an act of kindness.

She was somewhat startled at first, to
observe that the boughs trembled, but pre-
sently a voice crying Ba! ba! ba! sounded
so sadly, that she divided the branches with
her hands, and found that a poor little
lamb, which had lost its mother, had
caught its leg in a string, set by some bad
boy to catch birds, and had fallen to the

THE LITTLE LAMB.

ground in great pain. Lucy, whose eyes
were filled with tears at the sight, soon
undid the captive, and seeing him very
weak, placed him in her lap, and lifted
him into the meadow, where mamma and
the servant, followed by Jane at a distance,
had come to enquire the reason of her ab-
sence and Jane's fear.

As soon as they saw the lamb and heard
Lucy's story, every body praised her for a
good child; and the shepherd, when he
came to know of the matter, made Lucy a

10 MAMMA'S TALES.

present of the little lamb; and every morn-
ing she gave it a part of her bread and
milk; and the lamb loved Lucy very
much, and followed her about the house
and fields, playing about her, and eating
ont of her hand; till at length, the people,
who knew all about it, used to say, " There
goes Lucy, the good girl, and her pretty
innocent lamb;" and they gave her many
presents; and on her birth-day, too, the
lamb was dressed in a garland; and Lucy
was glad that she had been less foolish than
Jane; or the poor little lamb might have
died, and she have been less happy.

11

WATER-CRESSES.

In a pleasant village near London, there
was a small white cottage, which stood on
the banks of a brook, in the clear water of
which grew a great number of green and
fresh water-cresses.

A poor old woman lived in that cottage,,
who from age was almost blind ; and she
had one little girl, her granddaughter,
named Susan, who waited upon her, and
read the bible to her every evening; and
Susan's grandmother was happy in having
3

12 * MAMMA'S TALES.

so good a child to comfort and console her
in her old days ; for before Susan went
abroad to sell the water-cresses, by which
she gained a living for herself and her
grandmother, she always took great care
to make the bed, sweep up the hearth, and
draw her grandmother's elbow chair into
the warmth of the sun, that she might sit
there in ease, till her return from the houses
where she was in the habit of calling with
her basket of water-cresses ; and as Susan
was known to be such a good girl, she did
not want for friends, who were always glad
to buy of her.

A lady, of the name of Meadows, had
lately come to reside in the village, who
had a little girl about Susan's age, a very
pretty young lady, indeed, but without
half Susan's merits; for instead of making
every body happy about her, and trying
to serve and oblige others, she was so idle
that she would pout and stamp when the
servant took her out of bed, and cry to be
either dressed or washed. Mary Meadows
was also very proud, and thought herself

WATER CRESSES.

much better than other people, merely be-
cause she was more finely dressed, and was
also waited on: even her mamma was
often uneasy at Mary's wayward temper,
although she was so weak as tp indulge her
in all her whims.

One morning, while Mary was running
in the garden, Susan came to the gate with
her water-cresses; and although Susan was
cleanly dressed, Mary pretended to take
her for a beggar, because her clothes were
darned and patched, and, shrieking out,
4

14 MAMMA'S TALES.

desired John the footman to set dog- Tray
upon her, and drive her from the gate; but
John, who knew Susan, said he would not
set the dog on any one, and much less on a
little girl, who sold water-cresses to main-
tain her aged grandmother.

Mrs. Meadows, from the window, heard
the footman's words; and, instead of being
angry, told him to open the gate, and con-
duct Susan into the parlour; which he did,
without heeding Mary, who began to cry,
and stamp with rage and vexation.

When Susan came in, she made a low
curtsey to Mrs. Meadows, who asked her
age, and several questions about her grand-
mother, all of which Susan answered so
prettily and modestly, that Mrs. Meadows
was both charmed and pleased; and desir-
ing John to fill Susan's basket with cold
meat and some fruit, she told her that she
would call at the cottage in the afternoon,
•and sent her home with a glad heart.

As soon as Susan had gone, Mary came
from behind her mamma, and said, " Will
you call on that little beggar?"— " Yes, ?l

WATER CRESSES. 15

replied Mrs. Meadows, " and you shall go
with me."

At this, Mary began to pout and cry, for
she did not like to enter so mean a place;
and Mrs. Meadows, who had been much
struck by the contrast between her child
and Susan, could not but observe how much
better Susan knew how to conduct herself,
although she was poor and humble.

When they had dined, Mrs. Meadows
took Mary, and away they went in the
chaise, to Susan's cottage.

16 MAMMA'S TALES.

Susan opened the door to them with a
curtsey, and Mrs. Meadows beheld every
thing in the cottage clean and neat. This,
the old woman said, was entirely owing to
Susan's care and industry; and then she
showed them Susan's needlework, in her
own clothes, and told Mrs. Meadows how
well Susan read the bible, and desired her
to read part of a chapter, which Susan did
at once, as a good girl should.

Mrs. Meadows saw the deep blush which
stole across Mary's cheek, for, although so
proud, she could scarcely read a word.

At length Mary burst into tears, and
cried, " 0 mamma? I have been a naughty
girl, but I will be better in future; if you
will but suffer Susan to come and see me
often, I'll learn of her how to behave."

Mrs. Meadows wept for joy at these
words, and from that day, she took great
notice of Susan and her grandmother, so
that they wanted for nothing which her
bounty could supply. Susan and Mary
soon began to love each other like sisters,
and Mary learned of Susan, f< that the
only way to be Wppy is to be good."

17

TOM AND THE CAT.

TOM was a good boy, and he could not
bear to see dumb animals ill used; but Sam
was a bad boy, and he was fond of ill-treat-
ing every thing.

One day, Tom and Sam were at play in*
a field with several of their school-fellows,,
when some dogs hunted a poor cat into the
place, and she ran up a high tree to save
her life, and get out of the way.
5

18 MAMMA'S TALES.

No sooner did the boys see puss among
the branches, than they began to pelt her
with turf and stones, and Sam clapped the
dogs, and cried out, " Seize her! seize
her!" and the cat, as she sat on a bough
and watched them, looked ready to fall
with terror.

Tom could not refrain from tears at this,
and telling Sam that it was a cruel thing
to hunt cats, he took up a stick and drove
away the dogs. Seeing what he was about,
Sam and the other boys became angry, and
called Tom a milksop, with many other
silly names; but Tom did not care, and
said, if they threw any more stones into
the tree, he would run and inform their
school- master. Seeing him in earnest, they
left off at last; and Tom, climbing up the
tree, caught puss in his arms, while they,
thinking to have some more fun, came
towards him as he brought her to the
ground; but Tom held puss fast, and did
not suffer her to escape, at which Sam tried
to catch the timid animal by the tail, when
she gave him a deep scratch, which made

TOM AND THE CAT. 19

his hand bleed, and pained him so, that he
began to cry out loudly.

The school-master, who was hard by,
drew near at this noise, and seeing" the
blood on Sam's hand, asked how it came
there; and when the boys told him the
whole affair, he was much pleased with
Tom, and gave him half-a-crown to buy a
new book, and bade him take the cat into
the kitchen to the cook, who had lately said
that the pantry was thronged with mice.
Tom did as he was bid, when the cook gave
him a nice plum-cake, which he shared with
his playmates; and they were all very sorry
that they had not been as good as him. In
the mean time, Sam's hand grew worse;
a surgeon was sent for to look at it, who
at first said, he feared it must be cut off;
and Sam was forced to wear it in a sling,
and take a deal of bitter physic.

At last, the wound got well, and Sam
loved Tom, and became a much better
boy; for he could not forget how dreadful
a thing it would have been had he lost his
hand by doing a bad and cruel action.

LITTLE FANNY.

FANNY was a pretty little girl, and not
of a bad temper, but Fanny was too fond of
having her will in every respect. When
Fanny played with other children of her
own age, she was sure to dictate what
game they should pursue, and if they did
not do as she said, she would refuse to join
their sport; and the more they were vexed,
the more sulky she would be.

LITTLE FANNY. 21

At length, the school children did not
care to play with one who wanted to rule
them ; and when Fanny wished to mix in
their games, they were cool to her, be-
cause they knew she would be sure to op-
pose their wishes, and spoil their mirth;
till Fanny, wanting always to do just as
she liked, had no longer a single friend in
the whole school.

One dfty, Mrs. Mansell, the governess,
on coining into the garden, where the
children were always sent to enjoy them-
selves, after school hours, found miss Fanny
seated on a stool in an arbour, by herself,
shedding tears; and wishing to know what
ailed her, was told, in reply, that she could
procure no one to play with.

Mrs. Mansell was hurt at this news, and
begged to hear why the young ladies would
not permit Fanny to partake of their pas-
time ; on which they said it was not their
fault, but Fanny's, who wanted to govern
in every thing.

Mrs. Mansell took Fanny aside, when
she had learned the cause of her grief, and

22 MAMMA'S TALES.

told her the ill effects of a stubborn tem-
per, and a perverse mind, which are sure
to excite dislike.

Fanny felt the truth of all this, in the
neglect which she now had brought upon
herself, from her companions, and pro-
mised to be more humble in future. Mrs.
Mansell now took Fanny by the hand,
and kissing away her tears, led her again
into the garden, and desired, that the
children would receive her as before, which
they did gladly, when they came to see
how sorry she was for her past conduct ;
and Fanny soon found " that the way to
be obliged one's self, is to study how we
may oblige others.

CARELESS JANE.

JANE was so careless, that her things
were always out of order; her books, toys,
clothes, and work-box, were never to be
met with twice in the same place. When
she had leave to walk out with her brothers
and sisters, she was sure to come home
with her frock torn, or her hands all over
dirt; or when every body else was ready
to go out, Jane had always her gloves or
her tippet to search for.

One evening, Jane's brothers and sisters

24 MAMMA'S TALES.

were going with her, to see a pretty peep-
show; but when they were all dressed, as
usual, Jane's hat was nowhere to be seen,
nor could Jane tell what she had done with
it, though her mamma had given each of
the children a neat wardrobe, fitted with
drawers and pegs, in which they were bid
to keep their clothes.

At length it was time for the show to
commence, and all Jane's sisters and bro-
thers began to feel very sad, till their
mamma sent Betty, the rnaid, with them
to the sight, and Jane's bonnet being lost,
she was made to stay at home.

They had scarcely been gone more than
ten minutes, before the hat was found lying
under the bed, where Jane had thrown it,
the ribands torn and dirtied by the cat,
who had taken them to play with, so that
Jane had no hat fit to put on.

When the children came home, they
were all in such glee at what they had
seen, and laughed so much at the thoughts
of Punch and his wife, that Jane could not
help crying.

CARELESS JANE.

25

her brother Henry made a drawing of Mr.
Punch and his wife, and the little dog,
Toby, biting poor Mr. Punch's nose; and
showed her, by his gestures, how they
danced about, she could no longer refrain
from joining in the laugh. In future, she
said, she would be more careful, both of
her books and her clothes, lest the same
mischance should again occur, and she not
share in the pleasures of her brothers and
sisters, when they went either to a show or
to a fair.

26

THE BIRD'S NEST.

TOM was not a bad boy on the whole,
although he had some faults: his papa had
always told him what a wicked thing it
was to hurt dumb creatures, yet Tom would
throw stones at the swallows, when he was
not seen; and one day, having found a
bird's nest, he climbed up into the tree,
and was going to steal it, not heeding the
moans of the two parent birds, who seeing

THE BIRD'S NEST. 27

themselves going" to be robbed of their
young, were fluttering about in the greatest
distress, when a large snake, which had
also crawled up the branches, began to put
out its forked tongue, and hiss in a dread-
ful manner.

No sooner did Tom see the snake, than
he was so overcome by terror, as to let go
his hold, and fall to the ground, where he
lay very much hurt and crying, till his
papa, hearing him, came to his assistance.

Tom now threw himself on his knees,
and said that it had been his intention to
steal the young birds, when that fierce-
looking snake nearly bit his hand, and
made him fall from the tree.

" Let this warn you, Tom," observed
his father, " never to commit a crime out
of my sight, any more than you would in
it; for you now find, although you thought
yourself unseen, that God perceives all our
deeds, and can punish the wicked whenever
he thinks best"

28

THE YOUNG ROBIN.

IN a pretty garden, where no bad boys
ever came, built of soft moss and grass,
and in the middle of a sweet rose bush,
stood a robin's nest, in which a young bird
was carefully watched by its parents, who
brought him food every half hour, and
sang to him from morn till night; and
when night came, they covered him with
their wings to keep him warm; but the
young Robin could not be content with all

THE YOUNG ROBIN. 29

this kindness, for he wanted to quit his
nest, although his wings were not plumed,
and fly about in the air, as his parents did.
One morning, the two old robins having
left the garden at the same time, to seek
crumbs for their darling, this silly bird,
finding himself alone, hopped into the rose
bush, and mounting a lofty spray, thought
to soar above the trees, when a sudden gale
of wind gave him such a shake, that he fell
over the hedge into a field, almost bereft
of life, where he was forced to remain.

At night, it rained in torrents, and the
little robin had no wings to cover him, as
usual, so that he almost died with cold, and
to increase his despair he heard a large rat
searching about among the bushes; at
length, when it was light, his parents found
him, and after they had given him some
food, they built him a nest on a bank, but
it was not half so safe as the one in the rose
bush, which his own folly had made him
desert, for it was not so secure from hawks
and such animals as feed on small birds:
and Robin wished in his heart that he had
done as his parents had bid him.

THE COTTAGE.

CHARLES and William, though brothers,
were quite unlike in their minds: Wil-
liam was idle and careless, but Charles was
active and careful. William's books were
always torn, dog's-eared, and dirty, but
those of Charles were always clean and
neatly covered over.

Their papa, to amuse them, had given to
Charles and William a small piece of gar-
den ground, with some boards, nails, a
hammer, and a spade; and while William

THE COTTAGE. 31

wasted his mornings idly in bed, Charles
rose betimes, planned a pretty garden,
planted it with flowers, and built a neat
little cottage in the middle, in which he
sat to study his lessons.

As the spring advanced, Charles's plants
began to blossom, and the honeysuckles
covered the roof of his cottage. In the
mean time, William's garden was filled
with weeds; and their papa was very
angry with William, but bought Charles
a handsome white poney to ride on.

When William saw the difference their
papa made, he was much hurt, and begged
Charles to call him every morning when
he got up. This he very kindly did.

At first, William was loth to rise, but
Charles reminded him of the little poney,
and papa's anger, till at last William quite
got the better of his idleness, and dug his
garden, and built a cottage also, in which
he took such delight, that by the time his
papa gave him a poney, he wondered how
he could ever waste so many hours in bed,
which it would have been so great a plea-
sure to have spent in healthful pastime.

32

THE IDIOT GIRL.

HENRV and his mamma were taking
their evening walk through the village,
when several boys ran past them, laughing
at a poor girl who wished to avoid their
pursuit, and no sooner did Henry observe
what they were about, than he also began
to share in their mirth, and cried, " Look,
mamma! this is silly Mary, whom the boys
laugh at so; — see how she grinds her teeth,

THE IDIOT GIRL. 33

and what droll faces she is making at all
of us."

Mrs. Belmont did notice the girl, and
found that she was an idiot ; at which,
bidding the boys begone, in rather an
angry tone, or that she would go and
inform the school-master of their bad con-
duct, they ran away, while Mary sat down
on a stile, and continued to make queer
faces.

" You see, mamma," observed Henry,
" she mocks even you." That is because
she is an idiot, Henry/' answered Mrs.
Belmont, with a sigh.

"And what is an ideot, mamma?"
asked Henry. " An ideot, my dear child,
is a person, whom misfortune has deprived
of his right senses," replied the lady ;
" and the faces which this poor girl makes,
are not, as you suppose them, the effects of
n droll mind, but of a weak and nervous
system, both of mind and body ; therefore,
since it has pleased God to give you health
and sense, how doubly great must be your
crime in laughing at this child of sorrow,

34 MAMMA'S TALES.

like whom, Heaven could in an instant
render both you and yonder wicked boys,"
Tears started into Henry's eyes, at these
words; and kissing his mamma's hand, he
promised never more to laugh at Mary, but
in future to defend her from insult; and
Mrs. Belmont was so pleased with her
son's conduct, that she 'granted him leave
to carry a trifle every week to poor Mary's
mother, in order to soften the poverty and
grief which it was her lot to endure.

THE END.

Dean and Muatiay, Printer?, Threadn-edle-strcet.

m

§

^ >

^ &

* ^

< *

< ^
^ >

< >
<< ^
< D
n

JUVENILE PUBLICATIONS,
Printed for A. K. NEWMAN If Co, LeadenJuill street.

1*. Gd. each, with numerous coloured engravings.
A,Apple-Pie, that was cut to pieces and eaten by twenty-six j ^ $

Young Ladies and Gentlemen
Aldiborontiphoskyphorniostikos, a round Game for Merry Parties
Cradle Hymn, Morning, Evening, and Sunday Morning Hymns
Dame Wiggins of Lee, and her Seven Favourite Cats

Gaping, Wide-mouthed, Waddling Frog ; a new Game of
Questions and Commands

House that Jack built; with the pretty Picture Alphabet
found therein

Little Downy ; or the pleasing History of a Field Mouse »

3*. each, tcit h numerous coloured engravings.

Birth-Day Present; or. Pleasing Tales, adapted for the
Instruction of the Juvenile Mind

Child's Toy Book, a collection of easy tales, in familiar words
of one and two syllables

Evening,'s Amusements; a new Book of Games and Forfeits,
with directions for crying them.

Deborah Dent and her Donkey ; and Madam Fig's Gala
Elements of Geography

Gamut and Time-Table in Verse*; for the Instruction of Children
in the first Rudiments x>f Music

Little Traveller ; or, Description of the Manners and Costumes

ef the Inhabitants of different parts of the World
Mamma's Gift; or, Pleasing Lessons for Children
Mamma's Tales ; or, Instructive Anecdotes for Children..
Parent's Offering to a Good Child
Poetical Blossoms, and Juvenile Trifles
Punctuation in Verse; or, the Good Child's book of Stops.
Rudiments of Grammar, in Verse

The Pleasant Walk in Spring ; including the Story of the
poor Old Soldier, and Orphan Henry