It was this truth which her mother hoped
now to teach her.
On Monday morning, Emily jumped up as soon as her mother called her, and
seated herself on a low stool to put on her shoes and stockings; there
was a story book lying upon the table, and as her eyes fell on it, she
began to think over all the stories it contained, (some of them quite
silly ones, I am sorry to say,) and pulling her night-dress over her
feet, sat thinking about worse than nothing, until her mother opened the
bed-room door, and exclaimed in surprise,
"What! not dressed yet, Emily! It is full fifteen minutes since I called
you."
"I will be dressed directly, mother," said she, jumping up quite
ashamed, and she hurriedly put on her clothes, brushed her hair and
prepared for breakfast.
After breakfast she had to look over her lessons, but remembering her
mother's remarks, she stole a few minutes to feed her doves, and then
hurried to school afraid of being late. On her return home in the
afternoon, her mother told her to mend her gloves, which she had torn.
Emily went to her work-basket, but could not find her thimble.
"Where can my thimble be?" she cried, after looking two or three minutes
for it. "Oh, I remember now; I left it on the window sill," and off she
ran to get it.
She was gone some time, and on her return her mother asked, "Couldn't
you find your thimble, Emily?"
"Yes, mamma, but James and George were flying their kites, so I stopped
just a minute to look at them.
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