‘Yes; for mother is ready, I am sure,’ cried Lucy. ‘Here are your boots, father.’
‘And here is your coat,’ said Harry.
‘Father, to-morrow morning, will you let us blow bubbles, when you have done shaving,’ said Lucy.
‘No, no; I want to hear about the barometer to-morrow,’ said Harry.
‘We will settle this when to-morrow comes; and now let us go to breakfast,’ said their father.
At breakfast, as their father was looking at the newspaper, he found an advertisement, which he read aloud. It said, that a man had brought an elephant to a town in the neighborhood, which he would show to any person, who would pay a shilling a piece for seeing it; and, that the elephant was to be seen every day, for a week, between the hours of twelve and three.
Harry and Lucy wished very much to see an elephant; they said, that they would rather see it, than any other animal, because they had heard and read many curious anecdotes of elephants. Their father said, that he would take them, this morning, to the neighboring town, to see this elephant. Harry immediately went for his ‘Sandford and Merton,’ and Lucy jumped from her chair, and ran for her ‘Instinct Displayed.’ And they each found, in their books, anecdotes, or stories of elephants, which they were eager to read to their father and mother. Lucy had not quite finished breakfast, so Harry began first; and he read the history of the tailor, who pricked the elephant’s trunk with his needle; and he read of the manner in which the elephant punished him. And he read the account of the enraged elephant, who, when his driver’s child was thrown in his path, stopped short, in the midst of his fury; and, instead of trampling upon the infant, or hurting him, looked at him seemingly with compassion, grew calm, and suffered himself to be led, without opposition, to his stable.
When Harry had finished reading, Lucy said that she liked these stories of the elephant; but that she had read that part of Sandford and Merton so often, that she had it almost by heart. ‘But now,’ said she, ‘I will read you something, that will, I hope, be quite new, even to father and mother — unless they have read my Mrs. Wakefield’s ‘Instinct Displayed.’
Then Lucy read an account of Rayoba’s favourite elephants, who were almost starved by their keepers, before it was discovered how their keepers cheated them of their food. When the prince saw that his elephants grew thin and weak, he appointed persons to see them fed every day and these people saw the keepers give the elephants the food, of which they were most fond, rich balls, called massaulla, composed of spices, sugar, butter, &c. The elephants took these balls up in their trunks and put them into their mouths, in the presence of the persons, who were to see them fed; but still the elephants, though they seemed to eat sc much every day, continued thin and weak.
‘At length, the cheat was discovered, and it shows the extraordinary influence the keepers had obtained over these docile animals. They had taught them, in the inspectors’ presence, to receive the balls, and to put them into their mouths, with their trunk, but to abstain from eating them; and these tractable creatures actually had that command over themselves, that they received this food, of which they are so remarkably fond, and placed it in their mouths, but never chewed it; and the balls remained untouched, until the inspectors (that is, the people who had been appointed to see them fed) withdrew. The elephants then took them out carefully, with their trunks, and presented them to the keepers; accepting such a share only as they were pleased to allow them.’
Lucy rejoiced at finding, that this curious anecdote was new to her brother, and even to her father and mother. After they had talked about it for some time, and had admired the docility of these poor elephants, Lucy told what she had read of another elephant, who used to gather mangoes for his master, and to come every morning to his master’s tent, when he was at breakfast, and wait for a bit of sugar candy. Lucy’s mother then desired her to bring from the library table the book, which she had been reading yesterday evening, Mrs Graham’s Account of her Residence in India. When Lucy had brought the book, her mother showed her an account of an elephant, who had saved the life of an officer, who fell under the wheel of a carriage; and a description of the manner in which elephants are tamed; she told Lucy, that she and Harry, if they chose it, might read these passages. They liked particularly to read, at this time, accounts of this animal, that they might know as much as they could of his history, before their father should take them to see the elephant. They were happy, reading together what their mother had given them leave to read of this book; and then they looked over the prints, and, by the time they had done this, their mother called Lucy to her dressing room, to write and to cast up sums, and Harry went to his father’s study, to learn his Latin lesson.
Harry and Lucy regularly employed themselves, for about an hour, every morning, after breakfast; and, in general, they attended entirely to what they were doing, while they were learning whatever they had to learn — therefore they learned well and quickly. Lucy was learning to write, and she wrote about two lines carefully every day; always trying to mend each day, faults of which her mother had told her the preceding day. She was also learning arithmetic; and she could, with the help of a dictionary, make out the meaning of half a page of French, every day, without being much tired. She knew that nothing can be learned without taking some trouble; but when she succeeded in doing better and better, this made her feel pleased with herself, and paid her for the pains she took. She now read English so well, that it was a pleasure to her to read; and to her mother, it was a pleasure to hear her. So the reading English was always kept for the last of her morning employments. She was, at this time, reading such parts of Evenings at Home, as she could understand. This day, she read the ‘Transmigrations of Indur and, after she had read this in ‘Evenings at Home,’ her mother let her read a little poem, on the same subject, which was written by a young gentleman, a relation of hers. Lucy particularly liked the following description of the metamorphosis, or change, of the bee into an elephant —
‘Now the lithe trunk, that sipped the woodland rose,
With strange increase, a huge proboscis grows:
His downy legs, his feather-cinctured thighs,
Swell to the elephant’s enormous size.
Before his tusks the bending forests yield;
Beneath his footstep shakes th’ astonished field;
With eastern majesty he moves along;
Joins in unwieldy sport the monster throng.
Roaming, regardless of the cultured soil,
The wanton herd destroy a nation’s toil.
In swarms the peasants crowd, a clamorous band,
Raise the fierce shout, and snatch the flaming brand,
Loud tramp the scared invaders o’er the plain,
And reach the coverts of their woods again.’
By the time Lucy had finished reading, and that she had worked a little, and had copied the outline of a foot and of a hand, her mother told her to put by all her books, work, and drawings, and to get ready to go out; for it was now the hour when her father had said, that he should take Lucy and her brother to see the elephant.
Harry and Lucy walked with their father to the neighboring town, which was about a mile and a half distant from their home; they went, by pleasant paths, across the fields. It was frosty weather, so the paths were hard; and the children had fine running and jumping, and they made themselves warm all over. When she was very warm, Lucy said —
‘Feel my hand, father; I am sure, if I was to take the thermometer in my hand now, the quicksilver would rise finely. How high, father? — to how many degrees do you think it would rise?’
‘I think,’ answered her father, ‘to about seventy degrees of Fahrenheit’s thermometer.’
‘Fahrenheit’s thermometer! Why do you call it Fahrenheit’s thermometer? I thought it was your thermometer, father!’ said Lucy.
‘So it is, my dear; that is, it belongs to me, but it is called Fahrenheit’s, because a person of that name first divided the scale of the thermometer in the ma
nner in which you saw that of mine divided. There are other thermometers, divided in a different maimer; some of these are called Reaumur’s thermometers, because they were first divided so by a person of the name of Reaumur.’
‘But, father, will you tell me,’ said Harry, ‘something about the barometer,’ His father stopped him. ‘I cannot tell you any thing about that now, my dear: run on, or we shall not have time to see the elephant; for the keeper of the elephant shows him only till three o’clock each day.’ Harry and Lucy ran on, as fast as they could, and they were quite in time to see the elephant.
They were surprised at the first sight of this animal. Though they had read descriptions, and had seen prints of elephants, yet they had not formed an exact idea of the reality. Lucy said that the elephant appeared much larger; Harry said it was smaller, than what he had expected to see. Lucy said, that, till she saw it, she had no idea of the colour, nor of the wrinkled appearance of the elephant’s skin. The keeper of this elephant ordered him to pick up a little bit of money which he held upon the palm of his hand. Immediately the obedient animal picked it up with the end of his proboscis, and gave it to his keeper. Lucy said, she had never had a clear notion how it moved its trunk, or proboscis, nor how it could pick up such small things with it till she saw it done. Harry said, that he had never had an idea of the size or shape of the elephant’s feet, till he saw them. Lucy said, the prints had given her no idea of the size of its ears, or of the breadth of its back. Both she and her brother agreed, that it is useful and agreeable to see real things and live animals, as well as to read or hear descriptions of them.
The keeper of this elephant was a little weak-looking man. Harry and Lucy admired the obedience and gentleness of this powerful animal, who did whatever his master desired, though sometimes it appeared to be inconvenient and painful to it to obey. For instance, when the elephant was ordered to lie down, he bent his fore knees and knelt on them; though it seemed to be difficult and disagreeable to it to put itself into this posture, and to rise again from its knees. Lucy asked what this elephant lived upon, and how much he eat every day. The man said, that he fed the elephant with rice and with vegetables, and he showed a bucket, which, he said, held several quarts — this bucketful the elephant eat every day. There was, in one corner of the room, a heap of raw carrots, of which, the keeper said, the elephant was fond: he held a carrot to the animal, who took it gently, and eat it.
When Lucy saw how gently the elephant took the carrot, she wished to give it one with her own hand; and the man told her that she might. But when Lucy saw the elephant’s great trunk turning towards the carrot, which she held out to him, she was frightened; she twitched back her hand, and pulled the carrot away from the elephant, just as he was going to take it. This disappointment made him very angry; and he showed his displeasure, by blowing air through his proboscis, with a sort of snorting noise, which frightened Lucy. Harry, who was more courageous, and who was proud to show his courage, took the carrot, marched up to the elephant, and gave it to him. The animal was pacified directly, and gently took the carrot with his proboscis, turned back the proboscis, and put the carrot into his mouth. Harry, turning to his father, with a look of some self-satisfaction, said, that ‘the great Roman general, Fabricius, was certainly a very brave man, not to have been terrified by the dreadful noise made by king Pyrrhus’s elephant, especially as Fabricius had never seen an elephant before.’ Lucy did not know what Harry alluded to, or what he meant; because she had not yet read the Roman history. He said, that he would show her the passage in the Roman history, as soon as they were at home. And now, having looked at the elephant, as long as they wished to look at him, and having asked all the questions they wanted to ask, they went away; they were glad to get out into the fresh air again, for the stable, in which the elephant lived, had a very disagreeable smell. Lucy pitied this animal for being kept cooped up, as she said, in such a small room, instead of being allowed to go about, and to enjoy his liberty. Harry then thought of horses, who live shut up a great part of their lives in stables. He asked his father, whether he thought, that horses, who have been tamed, or broke in as it is called, and who are kept in stables and taken care of by men, are happier or less happy than wild horses. His father said, he thought this must depend upon the manner, in which the horses are fed and treated: he observed, that if horses, who are tamed by man, are constantly well fed, and are protected from the inclemencies of the weather, and are only worked with moderation, it is probable that they are happy; because, in these circumstances, they are usually in good health and fat, and their skins look sleek, smooth, and shining. From these signs, we may guess that they are happy; but, as they cannot speak, and tell us what they feel, we cannot be certain.
During the walk home, Harry and Lucy took notice of many things. There was scarcely an hour in their lives, in which they did not observe and learn something. One subject of observation and of conversation led to another; but it is impossible to give an account of all these things.
When they got home, Lucy reminded her brother of his promise about Fabricius and the elephant: he showed her the passage in the Roman history, which he had read; and that evening Lucy asked her mother, if she might read the whole of her brother’s Roman history. Her mother gave her a little history of Rome, with sixty-four prints in it; and she told Lucy, that, when she knew all the facts, told in this history, it would be time enough to read another, which might tell her more particulars of the Roman history.
The next day being Sunday, Harry and Lucy went, with their father and mother, to church. The morning lesson, for this day, was one of the chapters of the Bible, which contains the history of Joseph and his brethren Harry and Lucy listened attentively, and, when they came home from church, they told their father, they wished very much, to know the end of that history, of which they had heard the beginning read by the clergyman, at church. Their father took down, from his bookcase, the large family Bible, and he read the whole of the history of Joseph and his brethren, with which the children were very much interested and touched.
In the evening, they each read to their mother one of Mrs. Barbauld’s ‘Hymns in Prose for Children.’ Harry and Lucy loved these hymns, and they showed their mother the passages, that they liked, particularly in those, which they read this day.
‘Mother, this is the passage, which I liked the best,’ said Lucy —
‘Look at the thorns, that are white with blossoms, and the flowers, that cover the fields and the plants, that are trodden in the green path: the hand of man hath not planted them; the sower hath not scattered the seeds from his hand, nor the gardener digged a place for them with his spade.
‘Some grow on steep rocks, where no man can climb; in shaking bogs, and deep forests, and desert islands: they spring up every where, and cover the bosom of the whole earth.
‘Who causeth them to grow every where, and giveth them colors and smells, and spreadeth out their thin transparent leaves?
‘How doth the rose draw its crimson from the dam brown earth, or the lily its shining white? How can a small seed contain a plant?
‘Lo! these are a part of his works, and a little portion of his wonders.
‘There is little need, that I should tell you of God, for every thing speaks of Him.’
Harry was silent for a moment, after he had heard these passages read again, and then he said—’ I like that very much indeed, Lucy: but now let me read to you, mother, what I like better still.’
‘Negro woman, who sittest pining in captivity, and weepest over thy sick child; though no one seeth thee, God seeth thee; though no one pitieth thee, God pitieth thee: raise thy voice, forlorn and abandoned one: call upon Him, from amidst thy bonds, for assuredly he will hear thee.
‘Monarch, that rulest over a hundred states, whose frown is terrible as death, and whose armies cover the land, boast not thyself, as though there were none above thee — God is above thee; his powerful arm is always over thee! and, if thou doest ill, assuredly He will
punish thee.’
The next morning, when Harry and Lucy went into their father’s room, Harry drew back the curtain of his father’s bed, and said —
‘Father, you promised to tell me something about the barometer, and it is time to get up.’ His father answered, without opening his eyes —— .
‘Do you see two tobacco pipes,’ Harry and Lucy laughed: for they thought that their father was dreaming of tobacco pipes, and talking of them in his sleep. Lucy recollected, that her mother said, he had been writing letters late the night before, and she said to her brother —
‘We had better let him sleep a little longer.’
‘Yes, do my dear,’ said her father, in a sleepy voice: ‘and take the two tobacco pipes, and my soap, and my basin, and the hot water, Lucy, that you brought for my shaving, and you may blow soap bubbles, in the next room, for half an hour: and, at the end of that time, come and waken me again.’
Harry looked about the room, and he found, on his father’s table, the two tobacco pipes, which he had been so good as to put there the night before. Taking care to move softly, and not to make any noise, that should disturb their father, they carried out of the room with them the hot water, basin, soap, and tobacco pipes. During the next half hour, they were so happy, blowing bubbles, watching them swell and mount in the air, and float, and burst, trying which could blow the largest bubbles, or the bubbles which would last the longest, that the half hour was gone before they thought that a quarter of an hour had passed. But Lucy heard the clock strike, and immediately she knew, that the half hour was over, and that it was time to go and waken her father again. So she went directly for she was very punctual. Her father was now awake, and he got up; and, while he was getting up, she began to talk to him of the pretty soap bubbles, which they had been blowing; but Harry was impatient to ask his father something about the barometer.
‘Now, Lucy, let us have done with the soap bubbles,’ said Harry, ‘I want to learn something seriously — father, I want to understand the barometer perfectly, before I go, next week, to my uncle’s, that he may find I am not so ignorant, as I was the last time he saw me: and besides, my cousin Frederic will be at home, and he is only a year or two older than I am: and my uncle says that Frederic understands the use of all the instruments in his room — but I did not understand even the barometer — father, will you explain it to me this morning?’
Complete Novels of Maria Edgeworth Page 349
