both the better for it this day three months!' This was one of those
observations I usually made to impress my wife with an opinion of my
sagacity; for if the girls succeeded, then it was a pious wish
fulfilled; but if anything unfortunate ensued, then it might be looked
on as a prophecy." We know how Miss Olivia was answered, when, at her
mother's prompting, she set up for being well skilled in
controversy:--

"'Why, my dear, what controversy can she have read?' cried I. 'It does
not occur to me that I ever put such books into her hands: you
certainly overrate her merit.'--'Indeed, papa,' replied Olivia, 'she
does not; I have read a great deal of controversy. I have read the
disputes between Thwackum and Square; the controversy between Robinson
Crusoe and Friday, the savage; and I am now employed in reading the
controversy in Religious Courtship.'--'Very well,' cried I, 'that's a
good girl; I find you are perfectly qualified for making converts, and
so go help your mother to make the gooseberry pie.'"

It is with a great gentleness that the good man reminds his wife and
daughters that, after their sudden loss of fortune, it does not become
them to wear much finery. "The first Sunday, in particular, their
behaviour served to mortify me. I had desired my girls the preceding
night to be dressed early the next day; for I always loved to be at
church a good while before the rest of the congregation. They
punctually obeyed my directions; but when we were to assemble in the
morning at breakfast, down came my wife and daughters, dressed out in
all their former splendour; their hair plastered up with pomatum,
their faces patched to taste, their trains bundled up in a heap
behind, and rustling at every motion. I could not help smiling at
their vanity, particularly that of my wife, from whom I expected more
discretion. In this exigence, therefore, my only resource was to order
my son, with an important air, to call our coach. The girls were
amazed at the command; but I repeated it with more solemnity than
before. 'Surely, my dear, you jest,' cried my wife; 'we can walk it
perfectly well: we want no coach to carry us now.'--'You mistake,
child,' returned I, 'we do want a coach; for if we walk to church in
this trim, the very children in the parish will hoot after
us.'--'Indeed,' replied my wife, 'I always imagined that my Charles
was fond of seeing his children neat and handsome about him.'--'You
may be as neat as you please,'