The Bad Family & Other Stories. Fenwick Eliza

the sound of a mouse behind the wainscot of the room made her suppose she should die with fright. The persons with whom she lived used to pity her for being afraid, and that made her fond of the silly trick, so that she became worse daily, and kept the house in a constant tumult and uproar: for she would make as much noise about the approach of a poor insect not much larger than the head of a pin, as if she had seen half a dozen hungry wolves coming with open jaws to devour her.

      Mary Charlotte was once asked by Mrs. Wilson, a very good lady, to go with her into the country, and Mary was much pleased at the thought of going to a house where there was a charming garden and plenty of nice fruit. But the country is a sad place for people who encourage such foolish fears, because one cannot walk in a garden or field without seeing numbers of harmless insects.

      Mrs. Wilson, with her coach full of guests, arrived at her country-house just before dinner, and as soon as that meal was over, Mary begged leave to go out into the shrubbery. It was a charming place, and Mary was quite delighted with the clusters of roses and all the sweet-smelling shrubs and flowers that seemed to perfume the air. But as she was tripping along, behold on a sudden a frog hopped across the path. It was out of sight in a moment, yet Mary could go no farther; she stood still and shrieked with terror. At the same instant she saw a slug creeping upon her frock, and she now screamed in such a frantic manner that her cries reached the house. The company rushed out of the dining parlour, and the servants out of the kitchen. Mrs. Wilson was foremost, and in her haste to see what was the matter, she stumbled over a stone, and fell with such violence against a tree, that it cut her head dreadfully; she was covered with a stream of blood, and was taken up for dead.

      It was soon known that the sight of a frog and a slug was all that ailed Miss Mary, and then how angrily and scornfully did every one look at her, to think that her folly had been the cause of such a terrible disaster. Mary Charlotte had not a bad heart, and when she heard Mrs. Wilson's groans of pain while the doctors were dressing her wounds, she wept bitterly, and sorely repented her silly unmeaning fears.