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 The History of Benjamin ! 
 the Gardener. 
 
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 H. BROWN, PRINTER, 
 
 1831. 
 
 
 
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THE 
 
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 The History of r^nio 
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 H. H. BROWN, PRINTER; 
 
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 ' • » • 9 
 
 1831. 
 
The Dogs remarkable for his fi de lity . 
 
 *J?h§ Fox is » oted for his cunning, 
 
THE VltfE-STALK. 
 
 In the beginning of the spring, 
 Mr. Sefton took a walk one day 
 about his country house, with his 
 son Jerry. The violets and prim- 
 roses were in full blow; and many 
 of the trees were already budding 
 forth their green leaves, while oth- 
 ers were bright and gay with white 
 or crimson blossoms, that promis- 
 ed the finest fruits. They strolled 
 on till they came to an alley of 
 lattice-work, at the foot of which 
 was planted a vine, whose rough 
 and crooked stem spread without 
 
 aw 
 
4 
 
 beauty or order, its brown and 
 naked stalk all over the lattice. 
 Papa, cried Jerry, do you see 
 this ugly tree, that looks as if it 
 was staring and making faces at 
 us? Why should not we tear it up, 
 and give it to the gardener, to 
 heat his oven? 
 
 Jerry then began pulling at it as 
 hard as he could, in order to force 
 it up by the roots; but the roots 
 were too deep in the earth for his 
 strength. u Pray let it alone/ 5 
 cried Mr. Sefton ; " I will not 
 have it removed. I shall tell you 
 in due time, my reasons. " 
 
 Jerry. u But only look, papa, 
 at those beautiful blossoms of the 
 almond and peach trees ! Why 
 should not the vine be as pretty 
 too, if it had a mind not to be pull- 
 ed up? It spoils and destroys the 
 
whole look of every thing. Shall 
 I go and tell the gardener to come 
 and drag it away?" 
 
 Mr. Scfton. iC No, my dear; 
 I would have it stay where it is, 
 a little while longer. 55 
 
 Jerry still persisted in abusing 
 it: his father endeavored to turn 
 his attention upon other objects; 
 and, at last, the unfortunate vine- 
 stalk was forgotten. 
 
 Mr. Sefton's affairs, soon after, 
 carried him to a town at some dis- 
 tance, where he was detained till 
 the autumn. 
 
 His first care then, was to visit 
 his country seat ; and he again 
 took his little son with him. The 
 weather was extremely hot, and 
 they sought shelter from the rays 
 of the sun, by walking in the alley 
 of lattice-work* 
 
u Ah, papa!" cried Jerry, u how 
 beautiful is this green, and this 
 shade! How glad I am you made 
 them take away that nasty dry old 
 wood, that I was so vexed to see 
 in the spring, and surprise me by 
 putting in its place the most 
 charming tree that ever I saw in 
 my life! What delightful fruit it 
 has! Only look at these fine grapes 
 — some green, some purple, and 
 some almost black! There is not 
 one single tree in the whole gar- 
 den that makes so good a figure 
 as this. Almost all the rest have 
 lost their fruit; but this, only look, 
 papa, how it is covered! see what 
 thick clusters there are under all 
 these large green leaves. I should 
 like to know whether they are as 
 nweet- tasted as they are pretty." 
 
 Mr. Seflon gave him one to 
 
make trial of It was the musca- 
 dine sort. His transports wero 
 now increased ; and still more, 
 when his father informed him, 
 that it was from pressing these 
 grapes that the delightful juice 
 was produced which he sometimes 
 had tasted at table, after dinner„ 
 
 u I see, my dear, how you are 
 surprised, (said Mr. Sefton;) but 
 your amazement will be yet great- 
 er, when I tell you that this is the 
 very same tree, so dry, brown, 
 twisted and sprawling, which you 
 so much scoffed at in the spring. 
 Shall I now, then, call the gar- 
 dener, and tell him to root it up, 
 and heat his oven with it?" 
 * " O not for the world, papa! 
 I would rather have him root up 
 every tree in the garden. That 
 muscadine is so good! 
 
8 
 
 Mr. Seftoru " You see, then, 
 Jerry, how well I did not to fol- 
 low your advice. What has hap- 
 pened (o you frequently happens 
 in life. At sight of an ill-dressed 
 or ugly child, the richer and hap- 
 pier are but too apt to despise 
 him; to grow proud by teing com- 
 pared with him, and even to have 
 the cruelty to insult and deride 
 him. Be careful, my Jerry, of 
 ever forming such hasty judg- 
 ment!. Perhaps in that very out- 
 side, to which nature has been so 
 unkind, there may reside a soul, 
 that may one day astonish the 
 world by the greatness of its vir- 
 tues, or instruct and benefit man- 
 kind by its extraordinary talents. 
 The stalk may be rough, where 
 the fruit is the finest and best fla- 
 vored*" 
 

 THE 
 OP 
 
 Benjamin the Gardener. 
 
 Near the city of Boston, lived 
 an honest and industrious garden- 
 er, whose name was Benjamin, 
 and who wag in general consider- 
 ed the most skilful in his profes- 
 sion of any in that vicinity. His 
 fruits were much larger than any 
 of his neighbors 5 , and were gener- 
 ally supposed to have a more ex- 
 quisite flavor. 
 
 It was the pride of all the neigh- 
 boring gentlemen to have Benja- 
 min's fruits to form their desserts, 
 so that he was under no necessity 
 of sending the produce of his gar- 
 
 _j 
 
10 
 
 den to market, as he was always 
 sure of meeting with a sale for 
 them at home. His prudence 
 and assiduity increased as his 
 good fortune enlarged, and, in- 
 stead of riches making him idle, 
 he attended more closely to cul- 
 tivation. 
 
 Such a character and situation 
 
 Benjamin's industry and attention to 
 his trees, is rewarded by much fruit. 
 
II 
 
 could not fail of procuring him a 
 suitable matrimonial mate, and he 
 accordingly married a young wo- 
 man in the neighborhood, whose 
 name was Jane, and who was both 
 prudent and handsome. The first 
 year of their marriage was as 
 comfortable as they could wish 
 for; for Jane assisted her husband 
 in his business, and every thing 
 prospered with them. 
 
 This happiness, however, was 
 not to last long; for near his house 
 lived another gardener, whose 
 name was Thomson, and who 
 spent his time from morning till 
 night, in an ale-house. The mer- 
 ry and thoughtless humor of 
 Thomson by degrees began to be 
 pleasing to Benjamin, who fell in- 
 to the same ruinous error. At 
 first he only went now and then 
 
1 4 > 
 
 S* 
 
 to drink with him, and talk with 
 him about gardening; but he very 
 soon began to drop the subject of 
 plants, and delight only in the 
 praises of drinking. 
 
 Jane saw this change in her 
 husband with the utmost grief and 
 consternation. As yet, not hav- 
 ing sufficient experience to attend 
 the wall fruit herself, she was fre- 
 quently obliged to fetch him home 
 to his work, when she generally 
 found him in a state of intoxica- 
 tion. It would often have been 
 better had he kept out of the gar- 
 den than gone into it; for his head 
 was generally so muddled with 
 liquor when he went to work on 
 his trees, that his pruning-knife 
 committed the greatest deprecia- 
 tions, cutting away those branches 
 which ought to have been left, and 
 
13 
 
 leaving those that were useless. 
 
 Hence it was not to be wonder- 
 ed at that the garden fell off in 
 the quality and quantity of its 
 fruit ; and the more Benjamin 
 perceived the decay, the more he 
 gave himself up to drinking. As 
 his garden gradually failed in pro- 
 curing him the means of getting 
 strong liquor, he first parted with 
 his furniture, and then with his 
 linen and clothes. 
 
 Jane, in the mean time, did 
 what little she could to keep things 
 together; but all to no purpose. 
 One day, when she was gone to 
 market with some roots she had 
 reared herself, he went and sold 
 his working utensils, and imme- 
 diately went and spent all with 
 Thomson. Judge what must be 
 the situation of poor Jane on her 
 
14 
 
 return! It was indeed a heart- 
 breaking consideration to be thus 
 reduced to poverty by the folly of 
 her husband; but yet she loved 
 him, and equally felt for him as 
 she did for herself, but still more 
 for an infant, as yet but six months 
 old, and which received its nour- 
 ishment from her breast. 
 
 In the evening, Benjamin came 
 home drunk, and swearing at his 
 wife, asked her for something to 
 eat. Jane handed him a knife, 
 and put before him a large bas- 
 ket covered with her apron. Ben- 
 jamin in a pet pulled away the 
 apron; but his astonishment was 
 inexpressible, when he beheld no- 
 thing in the basket but his own 
 child fast asleep. " Eat that, 
 (said Jane) for I have nothing else 
 to give you. It is your own 
 
15 
 
 child, and if you do not devour it, 
 famine and misery will in a short 
 time." 
 
 Benjamin seemed almost petri- 
 fied into a stone at these words, 
 and for some time remained 
 speechless, with his eyes fixed on 
 his little sleeping son. At last 
 recovering himself, quite sobered, 
 his hearc eased itself in tears and 
 lamentations. He rose and em- 
 braced his wife, asked her par- 
 don, promised to amend; and 
 what was still better, he was faith- 
 ful to his promise. 
 
 Though his wife's father had 
 for some time refused to see him, 
 yet on being made acquainted 
 with his promises of reformation 
 he advanced money sufficient to 
 enable him to restore his garden 
 to its former state. Benjamin 
 did not deceive him, for his gar- 
 
16 
 
 on put on another appearance, 
 and cut a more splendid figure 
 than ever. After this, neither his 
 prudence or activity forsook him, 
 but he became at once, and con- 
 tinued so even to old age, the hon- 
 est man, the indulgent husband, 
 and the tender father. He would 
 sometimes tell this tale of follies 
 to his son, as a lesson to him, how 
 dangerous it is to get connected 
 with bad company, and how easi- 
 ly human nature is led astray by 
 the poison of example. The son, 
 who thus acquired knowledge at 
 the father's former expense, be- 
 came a wise and prudent man, 
 and continued all his life as sober 
 as he was laborious. 
 
3 Bl 13 5 H- 
 
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