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AUNT HARDING'S KEEPSAKES:
OR, THE TWO BIBLES

REVISED BY DANIEL P. KIDDER.


1851.



[Illustration A: Frontispiece]



CONTENTS.

I. GUESSING

II. THE PRESENTS

III. USE OF THE KEEPSAKES

IV. TWO CHARACTERS

V. LETTERS FROM INDIA

VI. TROUBLE BETWEEN SISTERS

VII. AUNT HARDING'S LETTER

VIII. USE OF MONEY

IX. AUNT HARDING'S RETURN




AUNT HARDING'S KEEPSAKES.


CHAPTER I.


GUESSING.

"Can you guess," said Louisa to her sister, as they sat at their work
in the summer-house, "can you guess what aunt Harding will give us, as
a keepsake, before she goes away?"

"No, I have not thought about it," said Emma; "and aunt has lately
given us so many pretty things, that we can scarcely expect any more
for a long time to come. There is my doll and its cradle, you know,
and your baby-house and furniture, how much money they cost! No, I do
not think aunt intends to give us anything else."

"But I am quite sure she will," replied Louisa; "for I was going past
mamma's dressing-room this morning, when the door was a little way
open, and I heard aunt Harding say, 'I should like to give the dear
girls something really useful, which they may value as they grow
older.' I did not hear anymore, because mamma has always told us it is
not right to listen, and so I came away as fast as I could."

"Well, I wonder what the present will be?" said Emma, now quite
convinced.

"What should you think of two handsome work-boxes--or, perhaps, as I
am the eldest, of a work-box for yourself, and writing-desk for me?"

"That would be charming!" said Emma; "and I would let you use my
work-box, and you could lend me your writing-desk sometimes."

"I will not make any promises," said Louisa; "you know you are very
careless, and I should not like my nice new desk to be stained with
ink, or, perhaps, scratched with the point of a pin."

"But mamma says I am growing more careful," said her sister; "and I do
not think I am so heedless about other people's things, though I often
spoil my own."

"Remember my wax doll," said Louisa, "which you left in the garden
through that heavy shower of rain, so that I could never play with it
again."

"O, that was such a very long time ago!" said Emma, looking a little
vexed.

"Perhaps it will not be a writing-desk nor a work-box that aunt
Harding will give us," said Louisa; "there are many other things which
we should like. I wish she would ask us to choose."

"So do I," added Emma; "but there is nothing that I should like better
than a work-box."

Louisa thought of many other things which she should be glad to have;
for she was apt to indulge in a foolish habit of wishing for what she
was not likely to possess. It is a bad thing to give way to this
failing; for by doing so we may often make ourselves unhappy, without
any good or real cause. People who do so should think of the words of
St. Paul: "I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be
content." Philip. iv, 11. And children, who have kind parents or
friends to provide for all their wants, should learn that it is very
sinful to let the thoughts be often dwelling upon things that they
cannot have, and do not really need. Pray for a grateful heart, that
you may rejoice in the blessings that surround you, and be thankful to
your heavenly Father, who gives you all things richly to enjoy.




CHAPTER II.


THE PRESENTS.

Mrs. Harding, the aunt of these little girls, had been paying a
farewell visit to their mamma, before going with Mr. Harding to India,
where it was likely that they would remain for some years. She had
kindly given many little presents to her nieces during her stay with
them; but they were such as Louisa and Emma would cease to value when
they became old enough to "put away childish things;" and being a
person of piety and judgment, she wished her last gift to be one which
might be worthy of their regard in youth and in age, and through all
the changes of life. It did not take any long time to determine what
this parting gift should be.

The evening before she went away, she called Louisa and Emma into the
room. They both looked round upon the table and chests of drawers, but
no sign of a present was to be seen; no parcel neatly wrapped up in
brown paper, nor anything like a work-box or a desk. But, to do them
justice, the thought of what they might receive was not then uppermost
in their mind; for their heart was full of grief at the prospect of
parting with their aunt, whom they dearly loved, and who was going so
very far away.

"Sit down beside me, dear children," said their aunt Harding, "and let
us have a little talk together, quietly by ourselves. I wish to give
you a few parting words of advice. I am sure that you will not forget
me when I am gone; and when you think of me, I hope that the good
things which I have tried to teach you will also come into your mind."

Both Louisa and Emma said, again and again,