THE WIFE OF BIDDEFORD'S STORY
At the time you speak of I was the private governess
of two lovely boys, Julius and Pompey — Pompey the senior
of the two. The black-eyed darling! I see him now. I
also see, hanging to his neck, his blue-eyed brother, who
had given Pompey his black eye the day before. Pompey
was generous to a fault; Julius parsimonious beyond
virtue. I, therefore, instructed them in two different
rooms. To Pompey I read the story of "Waste not, want
not." To Julius, on the other
hand, I spoke of the
All-love of his great Mother Nature, and her profuse
gifts to her children. Leaving him with grapes and
oranges, I stepped back to Pompey, and taught him how to
untie parcels so as to save the string. Leaving him
winding the string neatly, I went back to Julius, and
gave him ginger-cakes. The dear boys grew from year to
year. They outgrew their knickerbockers, and had
trousers. They outgrew their jackets, and became men;
and I felt that I had not lived in vain. I had conquered
nature. Pompey, the little spendthrift, was the honored
cashier of a savings-bank, till he ran away with the
capital. Julius, the miser, became the chief croupier at
the New Crockford's. One of those boys is now in Botany
Bay, and the other is in Sierra Leone!
