uld have succeeded well in the world. But
Mary had never been either smart or industrious, and she seemed to
suppose that now she was married there was no necessity for doing
anything. When her husband complained that it was hard to live, she only
smiled, and said that she knew if she were a man she could get along
well enough, and that every man ought to expect, as a matter of course,
to support his family. Such talk as this did not comfort him, as he was
daily laboring very hard to maintain his family, for his wife had one
daughter, and he thought that his companion ought to take an interest in
his misfortunes. But she had no regard for the cares and troubles of her
husband. She thought that it was bad enough for her to be debarred from
riding in a coach, and putting on rich clothing, and she often
complained that she could not lead the life of a lady. As their family
increased, her husband found that she possessed no tact at all. He would
have hired a housekeeper had he been able, in order that his wife might
lounge about and read novels all day: he would also have employed some
person to dress her, as her clothing was always put on in so negligent a
manner that he was ashamed to invite a friend to his house. But Mary
imagined that she had a very hard time, because she could not be a lady,
and she associated with some idle, gossipping women, who encouraged her
to find fault with her husband, because he could not put her into a
palace. Her husband never could have his meals ready betimes, and when
he went home to his dinner, the breakfast dishes were found still
unwashed upon the table. Mary's children were pretty and healthy, but
having been always allowed to go dirty and ragged, they were treated
with contempt by all decent children. These things wore upon her
husband's mind more and more, until he left his family in despair, and
never returned to them again. Mary is now in the poor house; for, being
too idle to work, and never having learned how to support herself, it
could not be expected that she should provide honestly for her family.
Nobody pities her, and there are many who ask her how she likes being a
lady, and who joke her about riding in her coach. Such is the fatal
effect of forming idle habits early in life.

ENVY.

I once knew two little girls who attended the same school and occupied
the same bench, yet who were entirely unlike each other in disposition,
so that while Martha was beloved by al