AUNT KITTY'S TALES.
BY MARIA J. McINTOSH,
AUTHOR OF "TWO LIVES, OR TO SEEM AND TO BE,"
"CONQUEST AND SELF-CONQUEST,""PRAISE AND PRINCIPLE," ETC., ETC.
A NEW REVISED EDITION.
NEW YORK:
D. APPLETON & COMPANY, 200 BROADWAY.
PHILADELPHIA:
GEO. S. APPLETON, 148 CHESNUT STREET.
M DCCC XLVII.
INTRODUCTION.
It has been several years since Aunt Kitty last presented herself to heryoung friends, yet she hopes that she has not been forgotten by them,and that her reappearance will give them pleasure. She introduces tothem in the present volume no new acquaintance, but she offers to them,in one group, all who formerly interested them. Blind Alice and heryoung benefactress—Jessie Graham and her ardent, generous, butinconsiderate friend, Florence Arnott—Grace and Clara—and EllenLeslie, will here be found together. They have been carefully preparedfor this second presentation to the public by Aunt Kitty's own hand. Itis hoped that her efforts for their improvement have not been whollyunsuccessful, and that they will be found not altogether unworthyteachers of those lessons of benevolence and truth, generosity, justiceand self-government, which she designed to convey through them.
New York, Feb. 15th, 1847.
BLIND ALICE.
Good morning, my young friend! A merry Christmas, or happy New Year, orat least a pleasant holiday to you;—for holiday I hope it is, as it ison such festivals, when there is no danger of lessons being forgotten,that I best love to see around me a group of happy children, all thehappier for having Aunt Kitty to direct their plays—to show them thepleasantest walks, or, when they are tired both of playing and walking,to sit with them by the fireside and tell them some entertaining story.I am never however entirely without such young companions. I have alwayswith me an orphan niece—Harriet Armand—who is about ten years old. Herfather and mother died when she was quite an infant, and she has eversince been to me as my own child. Then I have another niece—MaryMackay—just six years old, the merriest little girl on whom the sunever shone, who, as her father lives quite near me, spends part—hermother says the largest part—of every day with me. Besides these, thereare Susan May and Lucy Ellis, who, living in a neat, pretty village nearus, seldom let a fine day pass without seeing Harriet and me.
I am the very intimate and confidential friend of all these littlegirls. To me they intrust all their secrets. I know all the pleasantsurprises they intend for each other; am consulted on birth-daypresents, and have helped them out of many troubles, which, though theymight seem little to larger people, were to them very serious affairs. Iencourage them to tell me, not only what they say and do, but what theythink and feel. Sometimes when they are a little fretful anddiscontented because their friends have not done just as they wished, wetalk the matter over together, and find that they have themselves beenunreasonable, and then the fretfulness is dismissed, and they try by avery pleasant manner to make amends for their hard thoughts and unjustfeelings. If any one has really injured them, or been unkind to them,and I find them too angry easily to forgive it, I bid them put on theirbonnets, and we go out together to look for their good-humor. Then, aswe see the gay flowers, and inhale the sweet perfumes, and listen to themerry birds that hop around us, twittering and chirping, my littlefriends f