The Blue Jar Story Book. Edgeworth Maria

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The Blue Jar Story Book - Edgeworth Maria

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th, Charles Lamb, Mary Lamb, Alicia C. Mant

      The Blue Jar Story Book

       THE BLUE JAR.

      MARIA EDGEWORTH

      Rosamond, a little girl about seven years of age, was walking with her mother in the streets of London. As she passed along she looked in at the windows of several shops, and saw a great variety of different sorts of things, of which she did not know the use or even the names. She wished to stop to look at them, but there was a great number of people in the streets, and a great many carts, carriages, and wheelbarrows, and she was afraid to let go her mother's hand.

      'Oh, mother, how happy I should be,' she said, as she passed a toy-shop, 'if I had all these pretty things!'

      'What, all! Do you wish for them all, Rosamond?'

      'Yes, mother, all.'

      As she spoke they came to a milliner's shop, the windows of which were decorated with ribands and lace and festoons of artificial flowers.

      'Oh mother, what beautiful roses! Won't you buy some of them?'

      'No, my dear.'

      'Why?'

      'Because I don't want them, my dear.'

      They went a little farther, and came to another shop, which caught Rosamond's eye. It was a jeweller's shop, and in it were a great many pretty baubles, ranged in drawers behind glass.

      'Mother, will you buy some of these?'

      'Which of them, Rosamond?'

      'Which? I don't know which; any of them will do, for they are all pretty.'

      'Yes, they are all pretty; but of what use would they be to me?'

      'Use! Oh, I'm sure you could find some use or other for them if you would only buy them first.'

      'But I would rather find out the use first.'

      'Well, then, mother, there are buckles; you know that buckles are useful things, very useful things.'

      'I have a pair of buckles; I don't want another pair,' said her mother, and walked on. Rosamond was very sorry that her mother wanted nothing. Presently, however, they came to a shop which appeared to her far more beautiful than the rest. It was a chemist's shop, but she did not know that.

      'Oh, mother, oh!' cried she, pulling her mother's hand, 'look, look! – blue, green, red, yellow, and purple! Oh, mother, what beautiful things! Won't you buy some of these?'

      Still her mother answered as before: 'Of what use would they be to me, Rosamond?'

      'You might put flowers in them, mother, and they would look so pretty on the chimney-piece. I wish I had one of them.'

      'You have a flower-pot,' said her mother, 'and that is not a flower-pot.'

      'But I could use it for a flower-pot, mother, you know.'

      'Perhaps, if you were to see it nearer, if you were to examine it, you might be disappointed.'

      'No, indeed, I'm sure I should not; I should like it exceedingly.'

      Rosamond kept her head turned to look at the blue vase till she could see it no longer.

      'Then, mother,' said she, after a pause, 'perhaps you have no money.'

      'Yes, I have.'

      'Dear me! if I had money I would buy roses, and boxes, and buckles, and blue flower-pots, and everything.' Rosamond was obliged to pause in the midst of her speech. 'Oh, mother, would you stop a minute for me? I have got a stone in my shoe; it hurts me very much.'

      'How comes there to be a stone in your shoe?'

      'Because of this great hole, mother; it comes in there. My shoes are quite worn out. I wish you would be so very good as to give me another pair.'

      'Nay, Rosamond, but I have not money enough to buy shoes, and flower-pots, and buckles, and boxes, and everything.'

      Rosamond thought that was a great pity. But now her foot, which had been hurt by the stone, began to give her so much pain that she was obliged to hop every other step, and she could think of nothing else. They came to a shoemaker's shop soon afterwards.

      'There, there, mother, there are shoes; there are little shoes that would just fit me, and you know shoes would be really of use to me.'

      'Yes, so they would, Rosamond. Come in.' She followed her mother into the shop.

      Mr. Sole, the shoemaker, had a great many customers, and his shop was full, so they were obliged to wait.

      'Well, Rosamond,' said her mother, 'you don't think this shop so pretty as the rest?'

      'No, not nearly; it is black and dark, and there are nothing but shoes all round, and, besides, there's a very disagreeable smell.'

      'That smell is the smell of new leather.'

      'Is, it? Oh,' said Rosamond looking round 'there is a pair of little shoes; they'll just fit me, I'm sure.'

      'Perhaps they might, but you cannot be sure till you have tried them on, any more than you can be quite sure that you should like the blue vase exceedingly till you have examined it more attentively.'

      'Why, I don't know about the shoes, certainly, till I have tried; but, mother, I am quite sure that I should like the flower-pot.'

      'Well, which would you rather have – that jar or a pair of shoes? I will buy either for you.'

      'Dear mother, thank you! but if you could buy both?'

      'No, not both.'

      'Then the jar, if you please.'

      'But I should tell you, that in that case I shall not give you another pair of shoes this month.'

      'This month! that's a very long time indeed! You can't think how these hurt me. I believe I'd better have the new shoes. Yet, that blue flower-pot. Oh, indeed, mother, these shoes are not so very very bad! I think I might wear them a little longer, and the month will soon be over. I can make them last till the end of the month, can't I? Don't you think so, mother?'

      'Nay, my dear, I want you to think for yourself; you will have time enough to consider the matter whilst I speak to Mr. Sole about my clogs.'

      Mr. Sole was by this time at leisure, and whilst her mother was speaking to him Rosamond stood in profound meditation, with one shoe on and the other in her hand.

      'Well, my dear, have you decided?'

      'Mother! yes, I believe I have. If you please, I should like to have the flower-pot; that is, if you won't think me very silly, mother.'

      'Why, as to that, I can't promise you, Rosamond; but, when you have to judge for yourself, you should choose what will make you happy, and then it would not signify who thought you silly.'

      'Then, mother, if that's all, I'm sure the flower-pot would make me happy,' said she, putting on her old shoe again; 'so I choose the flower-pot.'

      'Very

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