Complete Novels of Maria Edgeworth

by Maria Edgeworth

  When Frank had seen and heard all that his father showed and told him about thatching, he went down the ladder as carefully as he had gone up it. As he passed through the farm yard with his father and mother, he stopped to look at some pretty hens and chick-

  ens, that were picking up oats. Whilst Frank was looking at them, a large turkey cock came strutting up to him, making a great noise, spreading its black wings, stretching out its blue and red throat, and looking ready to fly at him. Frank started back, and had à great wish to run away; but his father, putting a stick into his hand, said, —

  “Frank, stand steady, my boy; drive him away with this stick. That’s right; drive him away.”

  The turkey cock began to run away, turning back, from time to time, and making a terrible noise; but Frank pursued him, threatening him with the stick; and, as fast as Frank came up to him, the turkey cock gobbled and ran away.

  “Well done, Frank! you have fairly driven him away,” said his father, shaking hands with him. “You see you can conquer him, and that he has not hurt you; now the next time a turkey cock attacks you, if you have a stick in your hand, you need not be afraid.”

  “My dear Frank,” said his mother, “I am glad to see you are become so much stouter than you were. When you were a very little boy, and not nearly so strong as you are now, I remember we had a turkey cock in the yard which one day frightened you; and your father ordered that it should be sent away, that it might not frighten you again; for you were not then able to defend yourself.”

  “But I am now older, and am able to defend myself,” cried Frank; “and willing too, mamma.” —

  Frank marched on, in triumph, before his mother; and passed by the door of the chicken yard, looking, proudly at the turkey cock, who dared not come out. Frank amused himself, during a great part of the way home, in imitating the strut and noise of this animal; and he frequently turned to his mother, asking her if this was not very like; and this still more like; and begging her to shut her eyes and listen, and tell whether she could know his gobble from that of the real turkey cock.

  Frank was tired, at last, of doing this; and his mother was tired of listening to him.

  “Now, mamma, I have done being a turkey cock.”

  “Very well, my dear, I am glad of it. Let this woman, who seems to be in a hurry, pass by you, Frank,” said his mother.

  Frank looked behind him, and he saw a woman, with a milk-pail on her head, and another under her arm. He made way for her, and when she had passed, he said, —

  “Mamma, that is the very same woman who was milking the cow in the farm yard, and who said to me. ‘Master! master! don’t go up the ladder, or you will break your pretty little legs.’ Mamma, was not she foolish, to be so much frightened? I wonder how any body can be afraid to go up a ladder. What a coward she must be, poor woman!”

  As Frank was saying this, they came to the narrow bridge; and, to Frank’s surprise, he saw this woman run, without any appearance of fear, across the plank.

  “With one pail on her head, and the other pail under her arm, too!” cried Frank, stopping short, and looking at her with astonishment.—”Mamma, can that be the same woman? Then she cannot be a coward?

  Not a coward about going over narrow bridges; but she is a coward about going up a ladder, mamma.”

  “She is accustomed to go over this bridge, and she finds that she can do so without being hurt; and you, Prank, have been accustomed to go up a ladder without being hurt.”

  “Yes, the ladder in papa’s study I go up and down very often, every day. The first time I went up it, I was a little afraid; and I remember clinging fast, and going very slowly. I see, mamma, that people learn not to be afraid of what they are accustomed to; and I believe people can teach themselves not to be afraid.”

  As Frank finished speaking, he walked boldly over that bridge on which, but a short time before, he had scarcely dared to put his foot — that bridge which he had thought it impossible to cross.

  Frank’s father was very careful always to keep his promises. He remembered that he had promised Frank, that, whenever the brewer came, he would let Frank see how beer was brewed. The brewer was now going to brew, and Frank’s father called Frank, and took him into the brewhouse.

  “What a very large vessel that is, papa!” said Frank, pointing to a vessel which he saw in the brewhouse.

  “It is large, compared with that which you have seen the cook use for boiling meat; but it is small, compared with the brewing pan, or boiler, used in a public brewery, where a great quantity of beer is brewed for numbers of people. We brew only the quantity that we want to drink ourselves.”

  “What is in the boiler, papa?”

  “Water. Look at this large wooden vessel; this is called a vat. Into this the malt is put, and the water, that is boiled in the boiler, is poured into the vat, and mixed with the malt; and, after some other management, it becomes a liquor called wort. This is all you can see to-day.”

  The next day, his father called Frank again, and took him into the brewhouse, and showed him the wort, and bade him taste it; he tasted it, and found it sweet; but it had not the taste of beer, though it had something of the color of muddy beer. His father told him that hops must be mixed with the wort, before it could taste like beer. He showed Frank hops, -and Frank tasted the hops, and found that they had a bitter taste.

  “And is this all that is done to make beer, papa?”

  “Not all; the wort, after the hops have been boiled in it, must be set to work, or ferment; and after it has fermented for some time, it becomes beer.”

  “What is, to ferment?” said Frank.

  “I cannot explain it to you,” answered his father. “But you shall see this wort when it is fermenting.”

  Then Frank’s father desired the brewer would send and let him know, as soon as the beer should begin to ferment. The brewer did so some time afterward; and Frank went to look at it. It was not now in the brew-house.

  “You see, Frank,” said his father, “that the liquor in these vessels is not like what you saw in the brewhouse. It is, however, the same liquor; but it is now in a state of fermentation.”

  “It looks, indeed, quite different,” said Frank; “that liquor was of a dull brown color, and quite smooth on the surface; this is all frothy, and of a muddy yellow and white color. It is full of bubbles; some rising from below the surface, and others bursting.”

  “That froth is called yeast, or barm; and it is by means of this yeast, or barm, that bread is made spongy and light. Bread made without barm is heavy, like unbaked paste.”

  “Papa, how is the beer made to work, or ferment, as it is called?”

  “Some yeast, that was got from other beer, that was fermenting, was put into this beer; and that set it a-working, as it is called.”

  “How does it set it a-working, papa?”

  “I do not know,” answered his father.

  “How did they get the yeast for the first beer that was made to ferment?”

  “I do not know,” answered his father.

  “Why, papa, I thought you knew every thing.”

  “Indeed, my dear, I know very little; and I never pretend to know more than I do. The older people grow, and the wiser they become, the more they feel that they are ignorant of a number of things. Then they become the more desirous to learn; and, the more they learn, the more pleasure they feel in acquiring fresh knowledge.”

  After he had seen and heard all that his father could show or tell him about the fermentation of beer, Frank went to read to his mother, as he usually did, at this hour, every morning.

  “You have just been seeing how beer is made, Frank,” said she; “now, should you like to know how cider is made?”

  “Yery much, mamma.”

  “Here is a book, in which you can find an account of it.”

  She put into his hand the first volume of Sandford and Merton, open at the place which gives an account of Harry and Tommy’s visit to the farm house, where they
saw a room full of apples, and where the farmer’s wife described the manner in which she made cider of apple-juice.

  Frank read all this to his mother, and it entertained him so much, that when he had finished it, he asked his mother to let him read some more of that book.

  His mother said that she was afraid he was not yet able to understand all of it; and that she advised him to keep the pleasure of reading it, till he should be able quite to understand it.

  “O mamma! here is the story of two dogs, Jowler and Keeper. Mamma! just let me look at that, and a story of the good-natured little boy and the ill-natured boy. I am sure I can understand that, mamma; and the story of the gentleman and the basket-maker, and Androcles and the lion. I will begin at the beginning, mamma, if you please; and, if I find that I do not understand it, I will put it up again in your book-case, and keep the pleasure, as you say, till I am able quite to understand it.”

  Upon this condition, Frank’s mother gave him leave to read Sandford and Merton. He sat down immediately on the carpet, and he read eagerly for some time, till he came to a long dialogue, and then he yawned. His mother sent him out to work in his garden She would not allow him to read much at a time, because she wished to prevent him from being tired of reading. He had the pleasure of reading a little of Sandford and Merton every day. He found that he understood a great deal of it; and his mother told him, he might miss some parts. “You will read that book over again, I am sure, some time hence; and then you will be able to understand it all; and then you may read the parts which you now miss.”

  Frank was particularly delighted with the account of the house which Harry and Tommy built. And as soon as Frank got over the difficulty of the hard name, Spitzbergen, he liked the account of “the extraordinary adventures of the four Russian sailors, who were cast away on the desert island of East Spitzbergen.”

  “Mamma, I like this, because it is true,” said Frank. “Mamma, I ‘ like books that tell me true things, and that teach me something.”

  One morning, when Frank was going to put on his shoes, he found that there was a hole in the side of one of them; so he put on another pair, and he ran with the shoe that had the hole in it to his mother, and asked her to have it mended for him. She said that she would send it to the shoemaker’s.

  “Mamma,” continued Frank, “ I should like to go to the shoemaker’s; I should like to see how he mends my shoe, and how he makes new shoes. I understand something about it, from having seen that print of the shoemaker in the Book of Trades, and from having read the description; but I think I should understand it much better if I was to see a real shoemaker at work.”

  “I think you would, my dear; and when I have leisure, I will take you to see a shoemaker at work.”

  “Thank you, good mamma! And I should like to see every thing done that is shown in the prints of that book,” continued Frank. He ran for the book, and, turning over the leaves, “I should like, mamma, to see the trunkmaker, the wheelwright, the turner, the ropemaker, the papermaker, the bookbinder, the brazier, the buttonmaker, the saddler, the glassblower, and — O mamma! the printer, and — —”

  “Stop, stop, my dear Frank! I cannot show you all these; but, if you are not troublesome, I will show you any, which you can understand, whenever I have an opportunity, and when I have time. You know that I have a great many things to do, and cannot always attend to you, my little Frank.”

  “I know that, mamma. But you have time, have not you, to take me to the shoemaker’s to-day?”

  “Not to-day, my dear.”

  “But, mamma, will you tell me how paper is made?”

  “Not now, my dear.”

  “Well, mamma, I will tell you how I intend to manage about my arbor.”

  “Not at present, my dear. Do not talk to me any more now; I am going to write a letter.”

  Frank went away, and employed himself, that he might not be troublesome, and that he might make himself happy.

  The next day, his mother took him to the shoemaker’s: he saw him at work — he saw the awl, with which the shoemaker makes holes in the sole of the shoe and in the leather, through which holes he puts the waxed thread, with which he sews them together; he saw that, instead of using needles, the shoemaker used hogs’ bristles, which he fastened to the waxed thread with which he worked; so that the bristles served him as needles. He put the two ends of the thread in at opposite sides of the holes, and then drew the thread tight, by pulling each end at one and the same time; and, in doing this, he pushed out his elbows, and made an odd, jerking motion, which diverted Frank very much.

  “Now I know the reason,” said Frank, why, in the song which papa sings about the cobbler, it says, that he wanted elbow room —

  ‘There was a cobbler, who lived in the coomb, And all that he wanted was elbow room.’”

  Frank saw, in the shoemaker’s shop, large pieces of leather of different colors — black, white, red, blue, green, and purple. He asked leave to look at these; and one of the men in the shop, who was not busy, took out of a drawer some skins, as he called them, and spread them on the counter before Frank, who touched, and smelled, and looked at them, for some minutes, and then said,—” I know that leather is the skin of animals — of horses, and dogs, and calves, and of some kind of goats, and of — of — I forget the name — seals.”

  “Why, master!” said the shoemaker, looking up from his work, “many a little master, of your age, for whom I make shoes, does not know so much; you are a very clever little gentleman.”

  Frank colored, and was ashamed; for he recollected the flattering lady, and he thought the shoemaker was flattering and laughing at him. He turned away, and said to the man who had showed him the skins, —

  “Tell me, will you, how the skins of horses, and dogs, and goats, are made to look like this leather which I see before me? I know, pretty well, how the hair of the horses, and dogs, and calves, is got off, because I read an account of that in my Book of Trades. I know the currier, with a long knife, with two handles, scrapes it off. But I don’t know, and I wish you would tell me, how you turn the skin into leather, and how you give it such beautiful colors.”

  “Master, I cannot tell you that. It is not our trade; that is the business of the tanner and the leather-dresser. I buy the leather from them just as you see it. Please to sit down, master, that I may measure you for a pair of shoes.” — , Frank, finding that the shoemaker’s man could not tell him any thing about tanning or dyeing, contented himself with observing the manner in which this man took measure of his foot. Frank looked at the stick, or ruler, which the shoemaker used. It was made to fold up and open, something like a carpenter’s common ruler; but there was hinged, at one end of it, a bit of brass about two inches long; and this was hinged so, that it could be made to stand up, or shut down, as you please. This piece of brass the shoemaker turned up, and put behind Frank’s heel, when he began to measure his foot, and he laid the ruler under the sole of Frank’s foot. There was another piece of brass hinged in the same manner, which could be slid backwards and forwards upon the ruler; the shoemaker pushed this up to the end of Frank’s foot, and then looked at divisions which were marked upon the ruler; and he saw the distance between the brass at the heel and the brass at the toe; and he knew what size Frank’s shoe had ought to be, as to length. The breadth he measured by spanning the foot; that is, by putting his fingers round it in different places.

  When the shoemaker had finished taking measure, he shut up his measuring-stick. Frank asked leave to look at it once more, because he had not observed exactly how it was fastened when shut. The shoemaker put it again into his hands, and he saw how one part of the brass notched into the other, so as to fasten both the parts of the ruler together, when shut.

  The shoemaker then showed Frank some other things, which he wished to see, in his shop. He showed him a bootjack, for drawing boots off, and a wooden leg, which is put into boots, to stretch them; and he showed him the lasts, or moulds, on which shoes are made.


  Wherever Frank went, people were generally ready to answer his questions, and to show him what he wanted to see, because he took care not to be troublesome, and he did not ask foolish questions. He sometimes found, however, that people could not spare time to show him things; and he often found that he could not understand their manner of explaining.

  Some days after Frank had been at the shoemaker’s, as he was walking out in the evening, with his father and mother, he heard a dog barking at a distance.

  “How far off, mamma, do you think that dog is?” said Frank.

  I “About a quarter of a mile, I should guess. fancy it is White the tanner’s dog.”

  “The tanner! Mamma, I wish he had not that barking dog.”

  “That barking dog is very useful to the tanner, and he will not do you any harm. That dog is always chained up in the daytime; he is let loose only at night, when he guards his master’s property, and prevents any one from stealing the leather which the tanner leaves in his tan-pits.”

  “Then, mamma, if the dog is chained up, and cannot do me any harm, I wish you would be so good as to take me to see the tanner and the tan-pits: you know, the shoemaker told me that the tanner tans leather. — Mamma, will you go? Papa, will you go to the tanner’s?”

  “Yes, Frank, we will go with you,” said his father. “I am glad to see that you are so desirous to acquire knowledge.”

  They walked across two or three fields, towards the tanner’s house; and when they came near it, the barking of the dog was heard very loud. But at the same time that Frank heard his loud barking, he also heard the rattling of the dog’s chain; and he knew, therefore, that he was chained up, and could not do him any mischief. His father told Frank to take care, as he passed by this fierce dog, not to go within his reach — not to go within the length of his chain. Frank took care, and walked at a prudent distance. The tanner came out, and silenced his dog, and then Frank could hear and attend to what was said.