The Bad Family & Other Stories

Excerpt

Introduction

Mrs. Fenwick, like Mrs. Turner (some of whose Cautionary Stories have already been published in this series), lived and wrote at the beginning of this century. Mrs. Turner practised verse, Mrs. Fenwick prose. I can tell nothing of Mrs. Fenwick's life, except that among her books were Infantine Stories, the Life of Carlo, Mary and her Cat, Presents for Good Boys and Girls, Rays from the Rainbow (an easy system of teaching grammar), and Lessons for Children; or, Rudiments of Good Manners, Morals, and Humanity. It is from the last-named book that the first ten of the following stories have been taken. It was a favourite work in its day, and not only was it often reprinted in England, but was translated into French: for little French children, it seems, need lessons too.

As for these Rudiments, although it was Mrs. Fenwick's purpose that they should lead to good conduct, it would satisfy their present editor to know that they had amused. That is why they are printed here, and also to show the kind of reading prepared for the childhood of our great-grandmothers and great-grandfathers. In those days exaggeration was rather in favour with story-tellers; and we therefore need not believe that there was ever a family quite so bad as the Bad Family in this book, or a Good Family so good; or that Mrs. Loft (in 'The Basket of Plumbs') would have bought fruit from a household down with fever; or that a boy of ten could write so well as the hero of 'The Journal.' But after making allowances for exaggeration, we may take everything else as truth. As I said, these stories are included in this series chiefly to provide entertainment; but if they also have the use Mrs. Fenwick wished—if the misadventures of Frank Lawless keep us from robbing orchards, and 'The Broken Crutch' leads to the befriending of weary and wooden-legged sailors—why, so much the better.

The last two stories in this book, 'Limby Lumpy' and 'The Oyster Patties,' were not written by Mrs. Fenwick; but they seem to fit in here rather well.

There is a certain street in a certain town (no matter for its name) in which there are two handsome houses of equal size. The owners of these houses have each six children, and the neighbours have named one the Bad Family, and the other the Good Family.

In the Bad Family there are three boys and three girls; and the servants, who are always much teased and vexed when they live where there are naughty children, speak of them thus:—the eldest they call Fighting Harry, the second Greedy George, and the youngest Idle Richard; the eldest girl is nicknamed Careless Fanny, the next Lying Lucy, and the youngest Selfish Sarah.

Master Henry indeed well deserves his title, for he thinks it a mighty fine thing to be a great boxer, and takes great pride and pleasure in having a black eye or a bloody nose. This does not proceed from courage; no, no: courage never seeks quarrels, and is only active to repel insult, protect the injured, and conquer danger; but Harry would be one of the first to fly from real danger, or to leave the helpless to shift for themselves....