asked mamma, after I
had made my request, "in order that I may give this money to Aunty
Patton? It is no benevolence in you to ask me to give away money, unless
you are willing to do without something in consequence. If I give Aunty
Patton the five dollars that your comb will cost, are you willing to do
without it?"

"Dear me," thought I, "being good is very expensive." I deliberated for
sometime, but finally answered, "No." My mother pressed the subject no
farther; but after a while I exclaimed with a comfortable feeling of
magnanimity; "Yes, dear mamma, you _may_ give Aunty Patton the five
dollars--and I'll get _papa_ to buy me the comb!"

Mammy was a great judge of character, and when she once made up her mind
not to like a person, it was very difficult to make her change her
sentiments. My father once brought in a travelling clergyman, who
represented himself as very devout and unfortunate; and we all made
great efforts to entertain him. He was travelling West, he said, and
endeavoring to collect on the road sufficient money to pay his expenses.
My father invited him to remain with us a month; and he seemed very much
to enjoy the good things so liberally showered upon him--contriving at
the same time to render himself so agreeable that he quite won our
hearts. Mammy alone remained proof against his insinuations; he paid
assiduous court to her, and did his best to remove this unfavorable
impression, but the old nurse remained immovable.

He once asked her for the key to the fruit-garden, when my parents were
both out; but Mammy stedfastly refused him. "She had orders," she said,
"not to let the key go out of her possession, and she didn't intend to
now." The wandering clergyman departed quite enraged; and reported
proceedings as soon as my father returned. He was very much displeased
at Mammy's obstinacy, and spoke quite warmly on the subject; but the old
nurse replied that "she didn't know but he might make off with half the
fruit in the garden--she didn't like the man's looks at any rate."

I had then in my possession a little morocco pocket-book, a treasured
article, which I valued above all my other worldly goods. Sometime
before Christmas, I had observed it in a a shop-window with passionate
admiration; and on my return home, I threw out various hints and
inuendoes--scarcely hoping that they would be attended to. They were,
however; for on examining my stocking on the eventful morning, the
long-coveted pocke