Page 59.THE
DOLL AND HER FRIENDS;
OR
Memoirs of the Lady Seraphina.
BY THE AUTHOR OF
"LETTERS FROM MADRAS,"
"HISTORICAL CHARADES,"
ETC. ETC.
WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS BY HABLOT K. BROWNE,
ENGRAVED BY BAKER AND SMITH.
BOSTON:
TICKNOR, REED, AND FIELDS.
MDCCCLII.
PRINTED BY THURSTON, TORRY, AND EMERSON.
PREFACE.
My principal intention, or rather aim, in writingthis little Book, was to amuse Children by a storyfounded on one of their favorite diversions, and toinculcate a few such minor morals as my little plotmight be strong enough to carry; chiefly the domestichappiness produced by kind tempers and considerationfor others. And further, I wished to say aword in favor of that good old-fashioned plaything,the Doll, which one now sometimes hears decried bysensible people who have no children of their own.
The Doll and Her Friends.
CHAPTER I.
I belong to a race, the sole end of whoseexistence is to give pleasure to others. Nonewill deny the goodness of such an end, andI flatter myself most persons will allow thatwe amply fulfil it. Few of the female sexespecially but will acknowledge, with eitherthe smile or the sigh called forth by earlyrecollections, that much of their youthfulhappiness was due to our presence; andsome will even go so far as to attribute toour influence many a habit of housewifery,neatness, and industry, which ornamentstheir riper years.
But to our influence, our silent, unconsciousinfluence alone, can such advantages be[6]ascribed; for neither example nor preceptare in our power; our race cannot boast ofintellectual endowments; and though thereare few qualities, moral or mental, that havenot in their turn been imputed to us bypartial friends, truth obliges me to confessthat they exist rather in the minds of ouradmirers than in our own persons.
We are a race of mere dependents; somemight even call us slaves. Unable to changeour place, or move hand or foot at our ownpleasure, and forced to submit to everycaprice of our possessors, we cannot be saidto have even a will of our own. But everycondition has its share of good and evil, andI have often considered my helplessness anddependence as mere trifles compared withthe troubles to which poor sensitive humanbeings are subject.
Pain, sickness, or fatigue I never knew.While a fidgetty child cannot keep still fortwo minutes at a time, I sit contentedly fordays together in the same attitude; and Ihave before now seen one of those irritable[7]young mortals cry at a scratch, while I washearing needles drawn in and out of everypart of my body, or sitting with a pin runstraight through my heart, calmly congratulatingmyself on being free from the inconveniencesof flesh and blood.
Of negative merits I possess a good share.I am never out of humor, never impatient,never mischievous, noisy, nor in