Now Mr. Wood was a man who had a great deal of good sense, and when hisboy or girl had done what was wrong, it was his wish that the cureshould be wrought by their own sense of right and wrong. He thoughtthat the shame they felt from the sense of wrong would be the best curethey could have. He did all he could to make them _feel_ in what theyhad done wrong, and when he was sure they felt this he was sure theywould do so no more.
Now Mark was wrong to have let Rose have the six pence; and what madeit the more wrong was that he knew Mrs. Wood had once told Rose she didnot wish her to buy the box she had so great a wish to buy, for shethought the glass at the top would soon break, and that Rose might becut by it. Mr. Wood did not say much to Mark, for he saw that he felt agreat deal. But he told Mark it was his wish that the pond scene shouldbe felt by Rose, and that it should be made the means to cure her ofher worst fault.
This fault was, that when Rose had a strong wish to have a thing shethought she should like to have, she would not hear _no_.
The more _no_ was said, the more did she wish to have the thing towhich it was said. This had just been the case with the box. Mrs. Woodhad said no two, three, and four times, and each time that the _no_ wassaid, the wish for _yes_ had been more strong.
The next day, when Rose came down stairs, she did not raise up hereyes. Mr. Wood told her that as she had sold her self to Mark, heshould leave her to his charge for three days, and in that time shemust do all that Mark told her, and that she would have to do much shewould not like.
"Oh, Sir," said Rose, "buy me back! do buy me back!"
"Not yet," said Mr. Wood, "but if you do all that Mark bids you do forthree days, and if you do your best to try to put a check on the faultwhich has been the cause of all this, why, then I _will_ buy you back."
The first day Rose did try as much as she could; but it was all shecould do not to cry when Mark told her to do things: "_You_ tell me,Mark!--why should I do what you tell me?" and then she would think ofthe _cause_ of that why, and she would hang down her head and blush.
The last of the three days was come, and on this day Rose felt light ofheart. Once she went to the place where the box had been put; she tookit up and said, "This box is mine--I shall not lose this." She took offthe lid, and just then she heard some one at the door. In great hasteto put back the box, her foot slipt, and down she fell. In the fall theglass lid broke, and a piece of the glass stuck in her lip. The bloodcame in streams. Her cries were loud, and Mrs. Wood, who heard them,ran in great fear to know the cause.
It was a sad deep gash, and poor Rose was faint with pain and fright.
So deep was the wound, that for ten days Rose could not put food in hermouth; what food she took came through the spout of a tea-pot. Rosecould not speak nor laugh: she had a great deal of pain to bear, andshe did all she could to bear it well.
Mark would sit near her, and watch her, and read to her; and he wouldlook so sad at times! When he was sad, Rose would do what she could tomake her pain seem less than it was; but Rose's mouth could not provethe kind smile that was in her heart.
It was a long time ere Rose was quite well. Years are now flown in thestream of time since the day when Rose cut her lip.
The mark left by the cut is on her lip still. There it will be as longas she lives; and when she has a wish for that which she knows sheought not to have, that mark tells her to TAKE CARE.
THE END.
CAMDEN PRESS, LONDON.
Book of One Syllable Page 5
