tell their mamma, that something is the matter with them. Now you can
come to me, and say, Mamma, I have hurt myself. Pray rub my hand: it
smarts. Put something on it, to make it well. A piece of rag, to stop the
blood. You are not afraid of a little blood--not you. You scratched your
arm with a pin: it bled a little; but it did you no harm. See, the skin
is grown over it again.

LESSON IX.

TAKE care not to put pins in your mouth, because they will stick in your
throat, and give you pain. Oh! you cannot think what pain a pin would
give you in your throat, should it remain there: but, if you by chance
swallow it, I should be obliged to give you, every morning, something
bitter to drink. You never tasted any thing so bitter! and you would grow
very sick. I never put pins in my mouth; but I am older than you, and
know how to take care of myself.

My mamma took care of me, when I was a little girl, like you. She bade me
never put any thing in my mouth, without asking her what it was.

When you were a baby, with no more sense than William, you put every
thing in your mouth to gnaw, to help your teeth to cut through the skin.
Look at the puppy, how he bites that piece of wood. William presses his
gums against my finger. Poor boy! he is so young, he does not know what
he is doing. When you bite any thing, it is because you are hungry.

LESSON X.

SEE how much taller you are than William. In four years you have learned
to eat, to walk, to talk. Why do you smile? You can do much more, you
think: you can wash your hands and face. Very well. I should never kiss a
dirty face. And you can comb your head with the pretty comb you always
put by in your own drawer. To be sure, you do all this to be ready to
take a walk with me. You would be obliged to stay at home, if you could
not comb your own hair. Betty is busy getting the dinner ready, and only
brushes William's hair, because he cannot do it for himself.

Betty is making an apple-pye. You love an apple-pye; but I do not bid you
make one. Your hands are not strong enough to mix the butter and flour
together; and you must not try to pare the apples, because you cannot
manage a great knife.

Never touch the large knives: they are very sharp, and you might cut your
finger to the bone. You are a little girl, and ought to have a little
knife. When you are as tall as I am, you shall have a knife as large as
mine; and when you are as strong as I am, and have learned to manage