The Paradise of Children - (From: "A Wonder-Book for Girls and Boys")

The Paradise of Children - (From: "A Wonder-Book for Girls and Boys")


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Project Gutenberg EBook, The Paradise of Children, by Nathaniel Hawthorne From "A Wonder-Book For Girls andBoys" #83 in our series by Nathaniel HawthorneCopyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the copyright laws for your country before downloadingor redistributing this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do notchange or edit the header without written permission.Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of thisfile. Included is important information about your specific rights and restrictions in how the file may be used. You can alsofind out about how to make a donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts****EBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971*******These EBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers*****Title: The Paradise of Children (From: "A Wonder-Book For Girls and Boys")Author: Nathaniel HawthorneRelease Date: Nov, 2005 [EBook #9256] [This file was first posted on September 25, 2003] [Last updated on February6, 2007]Edition: 10Language: English*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, PARADISE OF CHILDREN ***This eBook was produced by David WidgerA WONDER-BOOK FOR GIRLS AND BOYSBy Nathaniel HawthorneTHE PARADISE OF CHILDRENCONTENTS:TANGLEWOOD ...



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Title: The Paradise of Children (From: "A Wonder-Book For Girls and Boys")Author: Nathaniel HawthorneRelease Date: Nov, 2005 [EBook #9256] [This filewas first posted on September 25, 2003] [Lastupdated on February 6, 2007]Edition: 10Language: English*E*B* OSTOAK,R TP AORFA TDIHSEE  PORFO JCEHICLTD GRUETN E*N**BERGThis eBook was produced by David WidgerAG IRWLOSN ADNEDR -BBOOYOSK FOR
TANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM.The golden days of October passed away, as somany other Octobers have, and brown Novemberlikewise, and the greater part of chill December,too. At last came merry Christmas, and EustaceBright along with it, making it all the merrier by hispresence. And, the day after his arrival fromcollege, there came a mighty snow-storm. Up tothis time, the winter had held back, and had givenus a good many mild days, which were like smilesupon its wrinkled visage. The grass had kept itselfgreen, in sheltered places, such as the nooks ofsouthern hill-slopes, and along the lee of the stonefences. It was but a week or two ago, and sincethe beginning of the month, that the children hadfound a dandelion in bloom, on the margin ofShadow Brook, where it glides out of the dell.But no more green grass and dandelions now. Thiswas such a snow-storm! Twenty miles of it mighthave been visible at once, between the windows ofTanglewood and the dome of Taconic, had it beenpossible to see so far, among the eddying driftsthat whitened all the atmosphere. It seemed as ifthe hills were giants, and were flinging monstroushandfuls of snow at one another, in their enormoussport. So thick were the fluttering snow-flakes, thateven the trees, midway down the valley, werehidden by them the greater part of the time.Sometimes, it is true, the little prisoners ofTanglewood could discern a dim outline of
Monument Mountain, and the smooth whiteness ofthe frozen lake at its base, and the black or graytracts of woodland in the nearer landscape. Butthese were merely peeps through the tempest.Nevertheless, the children rejoiced greatly in thesnowstorm. They had already made acquaintancewith it, by tumbling heels over head into its highestdrifts, and flinging snow at one another, as wehave just fancied the Berkshire mountains to bedoing. And now they had come back to theirspacious play-room, which was as big as the greatdrawing-room, and was lumbered with all sorts ofplaythings, large and small. The biggest was arocking-horse, that looked like a real pony; andthere was a whole family of wooden, waxen,plaster, and china dolls, besides rag- babies; andblocks enough to build Bunker Hill Monument, andnine-pins, and balls, and humming-tops, andbattledores, and grace-sticks, and skipping-ropes,and more of such valuable property than I could tellof in a printed page. But the children liked thesnow-storm better than them all. It suggested somany brisk enjoyments for to-morrow, and all theremainder of the winter. The sleigh-ride; the slidesdown hill into the valley; the snow-images that wereto be shaped out; the snow- fortresses that were tobe built; and the snow-balling to be carried on!So the little folks blessed the snow-storm, andwere glad to see it come thicker and thicker, andwatched hopefully the long drift that was piling itselfup in the avenue, and was already higher than anyof their heads.
"wiWthh yt,h ew eh usgheasllt  bdee libglohct.k "edW huapt  tiall  psitpyri tnhg!a"t  ctrhiee dh tohuesye,ihso tuosoe ,h idgoh wtno  yboe nqdueirt,e  wcilol vbeer ebdu ruiep!d  Tuhpe t loit titles  reeadves.""You silly children, what do you want of moresnow?" asked Eustace, who, tired of some novelthat he was skimming through, had strolled into theplay-room. "It has done mischief enough already,by spoiling the only skating that I could hope forthrough the winter. We shall see nothing more ofthe lake till April; and this was to have been my firstday upon it! Don't you pity me, Primrose?""O, to be sure!" answered Primrose, laughing."But, for your comfort, we will listen to another ofyour old stories, such as you told us under theporch, and down in the hollow, by Shadow Brook.Perhaps I shall like them better now, when there isnothing to do, than while there were nuts to begathered, and beautiful weather to enjoy."Hereupon, Periwinkle, Clover, Sweet Fern, and asmany others of the little fraternity and cousinhoodas were still at Tanglewood, gathered aboutEustace, and earnestly besought him for a story.The student yawned, stretched himself, and then,to the vast admiration of the small people, skippedthree times hack and forth over the top of a chair,in order, as he explained to them, to set his wits inmotion."Well, well, children," said he, after thesepreliminaries, "since you insist, and Primrose has
set her heart upon it, I will see what can be donefor you. And, that you may know what happy daysthere were before snowstorms came into fashion, Iwill tell you a story of the oldest of all old times,when the world was as new as Sweet Fern's bran-new humming-top. There was then but one seasonin the year, and that was the delightful summer;and but one age for mortals, and that waschildhood.""I never heard of that before," said Primrose."Of course, you never did," answered Eustace. "Itshall be a story of what nobody but myself everdreamed of,—a Paradise of children,—and how, bythe naughtiness of just such a little imp asPrimrose here, it all came to nothing."So Eustace Bright sat down in the chair which hehad just been skipping over, took Cowslip upon hisknee, ordered silence throughout the auditory, andbegan a story about a sad naughty child, whosename was Pandora, and about her playfellowEpimetheus. You may read it, word for word, in thepages that come next.THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN.tLeonndge,r l ionnfga nacgyo, ,t hwehreen  wthaiss  ao lcd hiwldo,r lnd awmaesd in itsEpimetheus, who never had either father ormother; and, that he might not be lonely, another
child, fatherless and motherless like himself, wassent from a far country, to live with him, and be hisplayfellow and helpmate. Her name was Pandora.tThhee  cfiortstta tghei nwg htehraet  EPpainmdeotrhae suas wd, wwelht,e nw assh ea  egnrteeartedhbiomx,.  aAfntedr  aclrmoosssit ntgh et hfier stth rqeusehsotlido,n  wwahsi cthh iss,he put to"Epimetheus, what have you in that box?""My dear little Pandora," answered Epimetheus,"that is a secret, and you must be kind enough notto ask any questions about it. The box was lefthere to be kept safely, and I do not myself knowwhat it contains.""But, who gave it to you?" asked Pandora. "Andwhere did it come from?""That is a secret, too," replied Epimetheus.l"iHp.o "wI  pwrisohv otkhien gg!r"e eatx culagilym beod x Pwaenrdeo roau,t  poof utthine g whaeyr!""O come, don't think of it, any more," criedEpimetheus. "Let us run out of doors, and havesome nice play with the other children."It is thousands of years since Epimetheus andPandora were alive; and the world, nowadays, is avery different sort of thing from what it was in theirtime. Then, everybody was a child. There neededno fathers and mothers to take care of thechildren; because there was no danger, nor trouble
of any kind, and no clothes to be mended, andthere was always plenty to eat and drink.Whenever a child wanted his dinner, he found itgrowing on a tree; and, if he looked at the tree inthe morning, he could see the expanding blossomof that night's supper; or, at eventide, he saw thetender bud of to-morrow's breakfast. It was a verypleasant life indeed. No labor to be done, no tasksto be studied; nothing but sports and dances, andsweet voices of children talking, or carolling likebirds, or gushing out in merry laughter, throughoutthe livelong day.What was most wonderful of all, the children neverquarrelled among themselves; neither had they anycrying fits; nor, since time first began, had a singleone of these little mortals ever gone apart into acorner, and sulked. O, what a good time was thatto be alive in! The truth is, those ugly little wingedmonsters, called Troubles, which are now almostas numerous as mosquitoes, had never yet beenseen on the earth. It is probable that the verygreatest disquietude which a child had everexperienced was Pandora's vexation at not beingable to discover the secret of the mysterious box.This was at first only the faint shadow of a Trouble;but, every day, it grew more and more substantial,until, before a great while, the cottage ofEpimetheus and Pandora was less sunshiny thanthose of the other children."coWnhtiennucaell yc akne ptth es abyoinx gh taov eh ecrosemlfe ?a"n dP taondora
Epimetheus. "And what in the world can be insideof it?""Always talking about this box!" said Epimetheus,at last; for he had grown extremely tired of thesubject. "I wish, dear Pandora, you would try to talkof something else. Come, let us go and gathersome ripe figs, and eat them under the trees, forour supper. And I know a vine that has thesweetest and juiciest grapes you ever tasted.""Always talking about grapes and figs!" criedPandora, pettishly."Well, then," said Epimetheus, who was a verytghooosde- tdeamyps,e r"leedt  cuhsi lrdu, nli koeu ta  amndu lthitauvdee  ao f mcehrirldyr teinm ienwith our playmates.""I am tired of merry times, and don't care if I neverhave any more!" answered our pettish littlePandora. "And, besides, I never do have any. Thisugly box! I am so taken up with thinking about it allthe time. I insist upon your telling me what is insideof it.""As I have already said, fifty times over, I do notknow!" replied Epimetheus, getting a little vexed."How, then, can I tell you what is inside?""You might open it," said Pandora, lookingsideways at Epimetheus, "and then we could seefor ourselves.""Pandora, what are you thinking of?" exclaimed