LETTER VII.
WILLIAM to his MOTHER.
Here we are at the country-seat, dear mother. What a fine house! what a pretty garden! There are a number of trees I never saw before.
Charles has a little garden, which he manages entirely himself. He plants and sows seeds according to his own mind. As soon as we were rested, he ran to his garden, and what do you think he did? he is certainly a good boy, he gave half a guinea to the gardener, who had taken care of it in his absence. The man receives constant wages from his father; but he has six children, and Charles is compassionate. Surely it was well done; yet Edward found fault. I will tell you all; oh! I recollect something; Lady Grandison bid me write our conventions in the manner of a dialogue, and not always to be using the phrase, he said and she said. Edward saw the gardener receive the half guinea, and he ran to Charles.
EDWARD.
Are you foolish, Charles, that you give so much money to that man? My uncle pays him very well for his work.
CHARLES.
That is true; but see how neat my garden is, it deserves a reward. Besides, he is a poor man, who has many children; and I used to climb up his knees when I was a child.
EDWARD.
Very well; but I say again, he has more than what belongs to him. Dare you tell my uncle what you have done?
Yes, certainly. I hope never to do any thing that I should be afraid to mention to him. He sometimes gives the gardener money himself.
EDWARD.
My uncle gives his own money, and what you gave is not your own.
CHARLES.
I beg your pardon; what I have given to the gardener was my own; I received it a few days before I left London as a reward; and could I make a better use of it? I did double business that I might have some money to give away.
EDWARD.
And could you not have bought something with it; such as fire-works? They would have afforded rare sport in the country.
Fire-works, and for what? Fire-works are but for a moment; while the shoes the poor man will buy for his children, will keep them out of the wet a month or two.
EDWARD, (laughing.)
And what good will it do you, if their feet are dry?
CHARLES.
If I do them good, it is enough; I feel pleasure in assisting the poor, and particularly that good-natured man who was so kind to me when I was a helpless babe.
Edward said no more; he ran away from us to torment a cat, which he had seen lie sleeping on the grass.
What do you think of all this? I, for my part, was ashamed of Edward, and love Charles more than ever. When I am rich, should I ever be so, I will give to the poor; it is such a pleasure to make glad a person in distress.