THE BIRTHDAY GIFT
ONE FINE MORNING, IN THE BEGINNING of May, Mary went into the wood to cut some willows and twigs of hazel for her father's work, as he was accustomed to employ himself in his leisure hours in making ornamental baskets of various kinds; for James was an industrious man, who liked to be constantly busy. He knew that we are commanded in the Bible to "redeem the time." After Mary had cut the willows, she found a beautiful bed of lilies of the valley. She gathered a large bunch and tied them up into two neatly arranged bouquets, one for her father and one for herself. She then proceeded homewards by a narrow footpath through the wood. She had not gone far when she met the Countess of Eichbourg and her daughter, who had lately returned to the castle from their residence in the capital. Mary, who possessed that native politeness which is natural to a sweet and gentle spirit, stepped modestly aside to allow the ladies to pass, curtsying respectfully at the same time.
"Oh, what beautiful lilies of the valley!" exclaimed the young Countess, who loved flowers passionately, and preferred wild flowers to any other.
On hearing this exclamation, Mary offered a bouquet to each of the ladies. They received them with pleasure; and the Countess, taking out a silk purse richly embroidered with gold, offered some money to Mary, but she refused it.
"Oh no, no, lady," said she, "I cannot take money for my flowers. My father and I have received many benefits from the Count. Please permit a poor girl to have the pleasure of offering you this little gift without being paid for it."
The Countess smiled pleasantly, and said, "Well, my child, will you be so kind as sometimes to bring a bunch of lilies of the valley to the castle for my daughter?"
Mary promised to do so; and every morning, as long as the lilies of the valley lasted, she carried a beautiful bunch to the castle.
The young Countess Amelia was charmed with the flowers, and she became very fond of Mary. She often invited her to return to the castle after the season of lilies was past and frequently kept her there for hours. Their tastes were similar in some respects, especially in their mutual love of flowers, which gave them always a common subject of interest, and they became much attached to each other.
The anniversary of Amelia's birthday drew near. Mary wished to give her a little rustic present. She had taken her so many bouquets, that she tried to think of something more uncommon for a birthday gift. During the previous winter, James had made several very pretty workbaskets. He had given the prettiest of them to Mary. She asked leave to give this basket to the young Countess. He willingly consented; and still further improved the gift by weaving on the basket, in very delicate workmanship, the letters of the Countess Amelia's name, and the crest of her family. When finished, the basket was quite a masterpiece.
On the morning of Amelia's birthday, Mary gathered her finest roses and superb stocks—white, red, and purple. She added to these a variety of flowers of every color, so tastefully arranged among the fresh green leaves that the effect was charming. Round the edge of the basket she wove a delicate wreath of rosebuds and moss. The letters of Amelia's name were surrounded by a coronet of forget-me-nots. The mixture of the rosebuds, the delicate hue of the forget-me-nots, and the fresh green moss, looked very pretty on the pure white basketwork. It was an elegant little gift. Even the grave James was pleased; and when Mary was going to take it away, he said, "Leave it a few minutes longer—I like to look at it."
At length Mary carried the basket to the castle, and presented it to the young Countess, with many sincere wishes for her happiness. Amelia was charmed with the basket. She could not find words to express her delight and admiration. "You are too kind, my dear Mary," said she; "you must have quite robbed your little garden to bring me this profusion of flowers. What a beautiful basket! It does great credit to your father's skill. I have never seen anything so exquisite, its shape is so elegant. O come with me to show it to mamma."
Saying these words, the young Countess took Mary by the hand, and running up the staircase which led to the Countess's room, she entered hastily, leading in Mary, and exclaiming, as she opened the door, "O mamma, mamma, look what a beautiful present Mary has brought me! Is it not exquisite! I am sure you have never seen a more elegant basket or lovelier flowers."
The Countess admired the basket extremely. "It is indeed charming," said she; "it is beautifully arranged; I would like to have it painted. The basket, the flowers, the fresh dewdrops still glittering among them, would make an admirable study for a flower-painter. The whole does infinite credit to the taste and kind feeling of this good little girl—Wait here a moment, my child," said she to Mary, making a sign at the same time to Amelia, to follow her into the next room, and thus leaving Mary alone. "We cannot allow this child to go away," said the Countess to her daughter, "without giving her some present for her trouble: what do you propose to give her?"
Amelia thought a moment, and then said, "I should like to give her one of my dresses, mamma, if you will allow me to do so. I think the dress with red and white flowers on a dark-green ground would be the best.
"It is almost new. I have only had it on once or twice; but, as I have grown very much, it is too short for me. Mary is not so tall; it will just fit her and will make her a nice Sabbath dress. If you approve of it, I would like to give it to her."
"Very well," replied the Countess; "it is always best to give something that is useful. It will be an appropriate present too. The green dress with red and white flowers will be very suitable for the little flower girl."
The Countess then returned to her room with Amelia, and looking kindly at Mary, she said, "Go now, children, carry off this charming basket, and take care that the flowers do not fade before dinnertime. There will be a large party at dinner today, and the basket will be the most beautiful ornament on the table. Good-bye, little Mary; I shall leave Amelia to thank you for your pretty gift."
Amelia hastened to return to her own room, and desired her lady's-maid to bring her the green dress. Margaret (that was the maid's name) hesitated to obey. "Does your ladyship wish to wear that dress?" said she.
"No," replied Amelia; "I intend to give it to Mary."
"To give it to Mary!" exclaimed Margaret hastily. "Does the Countess know this?"
"You forget yourself strangely, Margaret," said Amelia in a grave tone. "Do as I desire you, without making remarks; bring the dress immediately."
Margaret turned hastily away to hide her displeasure and left the room. Her face was on fire; she crushed more than one of the young Countess's dresses in her anger, before pulling out of the wardrobe the one that was wanted. "Oh, if I dared, I would tear it to pieces," muttered she. "That horrid flower girl—how I hate her! She has already taken my place in the Countess Amelia's favor, and now she steals this dress from me. Yes! steals it, for I ought to have all the dresses that the Countess puts off. Oh how I hate her! I will be revenged of her."
Margaret, however, found it prudent to keep her displeasure to herself, and smothering it as she best could, she reappeared with a smiling face, and presented the green dress to her mistress.
"My dear Mary," said Amelia, "I have received many more valuable gifts than yours today, but not one which has given me so much pleasure. The flowers on this dress are not nearly so pretty as yours, but I hope that you will wear them for my sake. Think of me when you put on this dress; and, pray, present my compliments and thanks to your father."
Mary received the dress, thanked the young lady, and took leave of her, as it was getting late, and Amelia must begin to dress. Margaret was called to assist her, and it was with difficulty that she suppressed the outward expression of the evil temper she was indulging. Notwithstanding her efforts to conceal it, she could not altogether succeed; and Amelia perceived, from the way in which her hair was pulled, that her maid's temper was disturbed.
"What is the matter, Margaret?" said she. "Are you angry because Mary has got the dress?"
"It would be very foolish in me, my lady, to be angry because your ladyship chooses to be generous," she replied.
"That is a sensible speech," said the young lady, "but I hope, Margaret, that you really feel what you say."
In the meantime, Mary had reached the cottage and hastened to display her new dress to her father. But this costly present did not please the wise old man. He shook his head gravely, and said, "I almost wish, my dear Mary, that you had not taken the basket to the castle. The dress is valuable, certainly, as a gift from the young lady; but I fear it may cause us to be envied by our neighbors; and, what would be still worse, I have some fears lest it should make you vain. Be on your guard, dear Mary. I hope you will never learn to be fond of dress. Remember what the Scripture says about the true ornaments of women!"
Do you love gaudy dresses and useless ornaments, young reader? Remember that it is an evidence of an uncultivated taste and a vulgar and frivolous mind. If a woman is overloaded with gaudy ornaments and unsuitable dresses, they do not adorn her; she only bears about upon her person the badge of her inward deformity. Learn to understand the real beauty of simplicity. With a taste refined by the study of nature, and a mind absorbed by nobler things, you will despise the vain ornaments that silly girls love. What innumerable evils have been the consequence of a foolish fondness for dress! To many it has been the cause of the first step in a wrong direction—it has been the entrance to that downward path which led them to a course of sin, a prison, or an early grave.
Mothers, beware of the first appearance of such a taste in your children! Foster it not. Strive to check it, as you would strive to check the first symptoms of a fatal disease, the more insidious because it appears slight and harmless at first.