LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY ROBSON, LEVEY, AND FRANKLY"*, 
 Great New Street, Fetter Lane, 
 
Margaret $htcfyx\ 
 
 Mrs. Somerville, the clergyman's 
 wife at Upton, had a large family, 
 and very few servants, so that her 
 time was very much taken up ; but 
 she contrived to shew much kind- 
 ness to the poor people of the parish, 
 and to teach in the school. She did 
 
MARGARET FLETCHER. 
 
 this by bringing up her girls to be 
 useful both at home and among the 
 poor. They used to help to teach 
 in the school, and they did it very 
 steadily and well. When any of the 
 children did not come regularly, they 
 used to go to inquire the reason, and 
 bring word to their mother ; and 
 they used to carry broth and medi- 
 cine to the sick people, who had no- 
 body to send to the parsonage, and 
 perhaps lived a great way off. 
 
 It was a large parish, and there 
 were, of course, a great many chil- 
 dren in it ; but they did not all come 
 to the school, not even on Sunday. 
 
 Young as you are, you may know 
 all the excuses that are made about 
 not coming to school. One child 
 had no good shoes. That might be 
 a fair excuse, if he had not contrived 
 to run about on the wet marsh before 
 their father's cottage for hours toge- 
 ther in his old ones. Another found 
 it too far to come ; and yet she could 
 ^o with her mother to the market, or 
 
MARGARET FLETCHER. 
 
 5 
 
 the fair, if it rained ever so hard. 
 Another did not like to have her hair 
 cut close; as if her curl-papers and 
 plaited hair were worth more than the 
 good and useful things she would 
 have learned at school ! A great 
 many girls were kept at home to 
 mind the younger ones. This must 
 sometimes be, when the mother is 
 obliged to go out to work, and has 
 many little children ; but such mo- 
 thers might contrive to send their 
 girls to the Sunday-school at least, 
 oftener than they do. 
 
 Margaret Fletcher was one of these 
 girls. She might usually be seen in 
 fine weather in the Long Lane, which 
 had many cottages in it. She might 
 be seen with one great heavy baby 
 in her arms, and another, not much 
 bigger, hanging upon.her, or toddling 
 after her. Sometimes she had to put 
 the baby down in a hurry to call 
 Jack out of the road, because the 
 baker's cart was coming very fast 
 down the narrow lane. Then she 
 
6 
 
 MARGARET FLETCHER. 
 
 turned round, perhaps, and saw the 
 baby screaming, because a great sow 
 was coming up and grunting at her ; 
 or little Mary had scrambled to the 
 top of the gate, and seemed in great 
 danger of pitching dow r n into Farmer 
 Evans's wheat. In the evening she 
 had enough to do to give them their 
 suppers, and get them all off to bed, 
 when her mother came in from reap- 
 ing, or other work. And if it was 
 very hot, poor Margaret's toil was 
 not over ; for they would tumble out 
 of bed and down stairs, or lie in bed 
 crying. Their mother said she had 
 no time to keep them in order. Poor 
 Margaret looked tired and worn, and 
 had scarcely spirit enough to keep 
 them out of mischief. 
 
 Mrs. Somerville sometimes no- 
 ticed Margaret at church, when her 
 mother was not there. She never 
 was kept away by bad weather, and 
 that seemed a good sign. But when 
 she was there she did not at all attend 
 to what was going on ; and if she 
 
MARGARET FLETCHER. 
 
 7 
 
 stood up, she looked about her ; and 
 when she ought to have been kneel- 
 ing, she was sitting at her ease. She 
 seemed to think church was a place 
 of rest for the body, and nothing 
 else. 
 
 Mrs. Somerville stopped her one 
 Sunday, and said, " My little girl, 
 you do not seem to know how to 
 behave at church. Have you no 
 Prayer-book ?" 
 
 " No, ma'am." 
 
 " But your mother has?" 
 
 <s Please, ma'am, I can't read." 
 
 " But you know what w r e come to 
 church for ?" 
 
 Margaret did not answer directly. 
 She was naturally shy ; and if a gen- 
 tleman or lady spoke to her, it was a 
 great chance whether she answered, 
 or, at least, whether they heard what 
 she said. Mrs. Somerville saw it 
 was not rudeness, but shyness; so 
 she said, " Don't be afraid to tell 
 me ; and then I will tell you some- 
 thing for your good, Margaret. You 
 
8 
 
 MARGARET ILLTCHER. 
 
 are Margaret Fletcher, I think ; you 
 have all that little brood of brothers 
 and sisters to take care of." 
 
 Then Margaret smiled ; and when 
 Mrs. Somerville asked her the ques- 
 tion again, " What do we go to 
 church for V she said, " I believe — 
 I think, ma'am, them as can read go 
 to read their Prayer-book." 
 
 Mrs. Somerville could not then 
 stay to explain to Margaret, that 
 every body, whether they can read 
 or not, can join in some of the 
 prayers ; or tell her all the things 
 children are taught at school, but 
 which it was plain poor Margaret had 
 never learned. She said, " I will 
 come to see you some day this week, 
 and tell you some things about 
 church. You must go home to your 
 mother, I suppose ; and I must go 
 to my school." 
 
 Margaret stopped one moment at 
 the school-door, and saw the little 
 Miss Somervilles putting their class- 
 es of children in order. Her first 
 
MARGARET FLETCHER 
 
 9 
 
 thought was — " It must be very plea- 
 sant to have children kept quiet ;" 
 and the next was, " I wonder what 
 they all learn. " 
 
 She thought a good deal about 
 Mrs. Somerville's visit, and what she 
 would say ; and wondered whether 
 the baby w ? ould cry, or J ohnny squall. 
 She hoped they would be a little 
 afraid of the lady ; and thought the 
 worst that was likely to happen, 
 would be that Mary would come 
 and stare rudely in her face. 
 
 About the middle of the week, 
 Mrs. Somerville and one of her girls 
 was seen coming down the lane. 
 Mrs. Fietcher was out reaping, and 
 Margaret's little brood were in good 
 humour ; they had got some long 
 green rushes, which Margaret had 
 made into plaits and little baskets 
 for them. Have you not seen such ; 
 or made them, if you have any deep 
 rushy ditches near you ? 
 
 Mrs. Somerville went into the cot- 
 tage, and Margaret and the children 
 
10 
 
 MARGARET FLETCHER. 
 
 after her. Margaret was too shy to 
 offer her a chair; but Mrs. Somer- 
 ville said, — " Now we will all sit 
 down. And, children, you must be 
 very good and quiet while I talk to 
 your sister." 
 
 Margaret put the baby in the old 
 wicker cradle, which had held all the 
 babies from herself downwards ; and 
 then she slapped little Mary's hand, 
 who had crept up to Miss Sophy, and 
 was pretending to pull the sprigs on 
 her frock. Mrs. Somerville told her 
 not to scold Mary, as she was not 
 used to strangers, and did not know 
 she was doing any thing rude ; and 
 Miss Sophy said, " If you will be 
 good and quiet, I will let you look 
 at my frock, and see if the flowers 
 on it are like any that grow in the 
 lane." So Miss Sophy, who often 
 took care of her own little brothers 
 and sisters, amused the children, and 
 kept them quiet, while her mother 
 talked to Margaret. 
 ♦ She found she had gone to school 
 
MARGARET FLETCHER. 
 
 11 
 
 some years before, but bad nearly 
 forgotten all sbe bad learned. She 
 could say tbe Lord's Prayer, and 
 the prayer beginning, " Lighten our 
 darkness but she said them very 
 ill, leaving out some words, and mis- 
 taking others, And the plain ques- 
 tions which Mrs. Somerville asked 
 her about prayer, and sin, and re- 
 pentance, she could not answer at 
 all ; but this might be partly through 
 shyness. 
 
 This seemed rather sad, and Mrs. 
 Somerville considered a little time. 
 It was plain she could not be spared 
 to go to school; but Mrs. Somer- 
 ville said, " Can your mother spare 
 you to come up to our house two or 
 three times a week, when the harvest 
 is over ? You come up half-way to 
 us once a week to shop, don't you ? 
 And you come to the squire's close 
 by us for broth in the winter. You 
 can come on to us, then, and one of 
 my daughters will teach you. If 
 you take pains, you may learn much 
 
12 
 
 MARGARET FLETCHER. 
 
 in that way. And you must ask 
 your mother to let you come after 
 church into the school, when you 
 take your turn to come to church ; 
 and then you must listen to what is 
 said to the younger children. You 
 would like to learn these things V 
 
 Margaret turned very red, and 
 looked up for an instant at the 
 young lady who was keeping the 
 children quiet, and said, " If you 
 please,, ma'am, I should like to learn 
 of Miss Sophy." 
 
 She looked ashamed at her free- 
 dom ; and Miss Sophy said, — " And 
 I should like to teach you, Margaret. 
 I am sure you will try to learn. I 
 will be ready as soon as you can 
 come." 
 
 Mrs. Somerville said, — " Ask 
 your mother about it. She must be 
 too much tired after her day's work 
 to come and speak to me ; but I 
 shall see her, perhaps, after church; 
 before long." 
 
 Mrs. Fletcher was really willing 
 
MARGARET FLETCHER 
 
 13 
 
 her girl should learn something, and 
 told her she might bring the children 
 into the harvest-field to her while 
 she went to the parsonage. And 
 when reaping and gleaning were over, 
 she sent her regularly three times a 
 week. But it was hard work not 
 only for Margaret, but for Miss 
 Sophy. It was so difficult to make 
 Margaret say her prayers right, and 
 so difficult to get her to remember 
 things from one day to another. But 
 she did get on a little ; and Mrs. So- 
 merville put Miss Sophy in a way of 
 making things plain tc Margaret's un- 
 derstanding. Margare t liked coming 
 to the parsonage, where she was 
 kindly treated ; and she got to look 
 more lively and happy, and to be 
 very fond of Miss Sophy, who was 
 always patient and kind. 
 
 By the next summer she could 
 read the Psalms, and the Gospels, 
 and most of the Epistles, and learn 
 the collect, with the help of a neigh- 
 bour's girl, who told her the hard 
 
14 
 
 MARGARET FLETCHER. 
 
 words. She had a Prayer-book 
 given her by Miss Sophy, and could 
 join in the service, and take pleasure 
 in it. 
 
 However, this life could not last 
 long. Her parents were poor, and 
 had a large family. Her mother 
 grew sickly* and the doctor said she 
 must give up out-of-doors' work. 
 She said to Margaret, " If I must 
 stay at home with the children, I shall 
 not want to keep you. I must see 
 and get you a place, that you may 
 do something for yourself. I will 
 ask Mrs. Foster, the carrier, to in- 
 quire at Highbridge for you." 
 
 Margaret hardly knew what to 
 think about it. She thought she 
 should like, as she said, " to go and 
 see the world ;" but she was afraid 
 of going among strangers, and she 
 grieved to think of leaving Miss 
 Sophy. She wished to speak to Mrs. 
 Somerville about it ; but her friends 
 at the parsonage were not at home, 
 'They were gone to see Mr. Somer- 
 
MARGARET FLETCHER. 
 
 15 
 
 ville's father, who was very ill, and 
 were not to come back immediately. 
 Margaret thought she might not like 
 every place that Mrs. Foster might 
 recommend. She was a noisy, rough- 
 mannered woman, and was said to 
 be too fond of drink. So Margaret 
 did not feel easy, when Mrs. Foster 
 pulled up her pony-cart at the cot- 
 tage-door the evening of the next mar- 
 ket-day, and called ci Mrs. Fletcher" 
 in a very loud voice. Margaret stayed 
 within ; but she heard Mrs. Foster 
 tell her mother that she had got a 
 fine place for Margaret. " They 
 want a girl to do rough work at the 
 : Black Dog, and help to draw the beer, 
 i They do not give any wages the first 
 year or two ; but Mrs. Green gives 
 the girls her old things, enough to 
 ^clothe them, and on market- days they 
 [get odd pence from the people who 
 ptop there, and enough to eat too, 
 [which is more than you have had 
 pince you were born, Peggy." 
 
 " True enough, worse luck," an- 
 
16 
 
 MARGARET FLETCHER. 
 
 swered her mother. " But a public- 
 house ! Somehow I don't like it, 
 What will Mrs. Somerville say ?" 
 
 " Just ask Mrs. Somerville if she 
 can get her any place instead ; and 
 whether she would have the girl stay 
 at home to be starved. Don't look so 
 downcast, my girl ; a public-house is 
 not so bad as you fancy. Mrs. Gree J 
 is an old friend of mine, and will use 
 you well, I am sure. And when youl 
 can get any thing better, you can but 
 leave. So make up your minds which 
 way you please ; but you must go] 
 if you do go, next week." 
 
 " Before Mrs. Somerville comes! 
 back," thought Margaret sorrow- 
 fully. She said little more. Whenl 
 her father came in from work he was) 
 told about it; and answered, " I 
 leave all that to you, mother ; but 1 
 wish it was not a public-house." 
 
 It was nearly a fortnight after this 
 that Mr. Somerville and his family 
 returned. Miss Sophy looked for 
 Margaret at church the next day; 
 
MARGARET FLETCHER. 
 
 17 
 
 but she was not there, nor her mother 
 either. The next day, as Mrs. So- 
 merville and her girls were going 
 about, to inquire how all the people 
 were, they met Mrs. Fletcher her- 
 self, and asked after Margaret. They 
 were surprised to hear of her being 
 gone to service, and very much 
 grieved to hear it was at a public- 
 house. They thought her much too 
 young to be put in the way of temp- 
 tation. They asked if she was allowed 
 to go to church. Mrs. Fletcher said, 
 " I cannot rightly say about that." 
 " But did not you ask?" 
 " I can't say I gave it a thought, 
 ma'am. Mrs. Foster, the carrier, 
 settled it all, and took Margaret 
 there. She brought me word last 
 week she was very well, and in a 
 month's time she will have leave to 
 come and see us." 
 
 " Well," Mrs. Somerville said, 
 " we must wait and see ; but a great 
 deal of harm may be done, I fear, in 
 a month's time." 
 
18 
 
 MARGARET FLETCHER 
 
 A few weeks after this Margaret 
 Fletcher did appear at church, and 
 one or two of the little ones with her 
 as formerly. But she did not look 
 as she used to do. She had on an 
 old faded green silk bonnet, that had 
 once been very smart, and a dirty 
 pink silk handkerchief round her 
 neck, and did not look happy or 
 cheered when Mrs. Somerville spoke 
 to her. She asked where she got 
 that bonnet, which did not look very 
 well. Mrs. Green at the Black Dog 
 had given it her ; she was to have 
 her old clothes. 
 
 " And have you much work to 
 do?" 
 
 " A great deal of work. We do 
 not get to bed sometimes till two or 
 three o'clock, and I must be up 
 early." 
 
 " And do you go to church ?" 
 
 " I have never been spared once 
 to keep my church since I have been 
 there." 
 
 And then the tears came into poor 
 
MARGARET FLETCHER. 
 
 19 
 
 Margaret's eyes. Miss Sophy walked 
 by the side of her, and said, " But 
 then you cannot be happy there, 
 Margaret. And you must see and 
 hear bad things V s 
 
 " I hear bad words and bad talk, 
 miss — I can't say but what I do ; 
 and they laugh at me when I look 
 frightened." 
 
 And then Margaret began to cry. 
 Miss Sophy was ready to cry too ; 
 and as she was not old enough to 
 advise Margaret in such a matter, 
 she said, 
 
 " I will tell mamma about it, and 
 she will talk to your mother. The 
 little ones have run on. Take care 
 of the pond : go after them now, and 
 we will see about you." 
 
 When Miss Sophy could tell her 
 mother, she said, "Oh, mamma, what 
 can we do ? Cannot she be got away 
 from that bad place ?" 
 
 Mrs. Somerville said, " It is her 
 mother's duty to take her away, and 
 I must tell her so — though I fear 
 
20 
 
 MARGARET FLETCHER 
 
 I cannot easily get her another place. 
 I have promised two or three girls 
 already." 
 
 A few days after this Mrs. Somer- 
 ville walked to the Long Lane, and 
 found Mrs. Fletcher at home, where 
 she now was always to be found. 
 She heard a great deal about the 
 Black Dog, and it was all uncom- 
 fortable enougho Very bad and idle 
 people came there — there was quar- 
 relling and bad language; and when 
 these people saw Margaret look shy 
 and frightened, they took pleasure 
 in teasing her, by saying rude and 
 bad things to her. She had no time 
 to herself, no corner in which to say 
 her prayers, — not a moment on Sun- 
 days, even, to try to keep up what 
 she had learnt. She had told her 
 mother she was very unhappy. 
 
 On hearing this, Mrs. Somerville 
 said, " If you will take my advice, 
 you will take your girl away. In 
 time she will get hardened to these 
 things. She will learn to be bold 
 
MARGARET FLETCHER. 
 
 21 
 
 and impudent, if she does not learn 
 what is worse ; and it is very seldom 
 that a girl gets cured of boldness 
 and impudence. I know that if she 
 gets no other place this winter, she 
 will add much to your hardships. 
 I wish I could afford to take her, or 
 get any thing for her; but I can only 
 give my advice.' 5 
 
 Mrs. Fletcher was a respectable 
 person ; she had not always cared 
 as much for her children's souls as 
 for their bodies, but she would not 
 keep Margaret in a place of tempta- 
 tion. She said, 
 
 " My neighbours will be at me 
 for keeping the girl at home, and 
 farmer Brown will say it's all idle- 
 ness ; but I must not mind that." 
 
 " You may tell them that it was 
 Mr. Somerville's advice ; and you 
 know that nobody has any right 
 to find fault with a church- woman 
 for following her minister's advice. 
 Fetch Margaret away at once, and 
 let her come up to me, and I will 
 
22 MARGARET FLETCHER* 
 
 give her one of my girls' old straw- 
 bonnets, instead of that tawdry thing 
 she is forced to wear now." 
 
 So the very next Sunday Mar- I 
 garet was in her old place at church, 
 without her old silk bonnet, looking 
 much as she used to do. She came 
 to Miss Sophy regularly, and seemed 
 pleased to get up her learning again. 
 
 She had many trials, however. 
 Mrs. Foster was offended, and as 
 she passed the cottage would stop 
 and talk of girls who learnt at the I 
 parsonage to think themselves too 
 good for other people. And the poor 
 girPs shoes and stockings wore out, 
 and her parents could not give her 
 any new ones. She had plenty to 
 eat and to drink at the Black Dog, 
 but now she could not get as much 
 as she wanted. She had no cloak to 
 keep her warm at church, as she had 
 not belonged to the school. Yet she 
 tried to do what she could to earn a 
 penny. She would go on errands, 
 or take care of a neighbour's chil- 
 
MARGARET FLETCHER. 23 
 
 dren ; and sometimes she spent whoW 
 days in the fields, keeping the birds 
 from the new-sov,n corn. She walked 
 all over the rough-ploughed ground 
 great part of the day, and when she 
 saw the rooks settle, she had to 
 halloo and scream till they flew away 
 Then she would sit down under a 
 thick bush, and repeat her lessons 
 to herself, till the cold and the rooks 
 brought her to her feet again. When 
 she came up to the parsonage in the 
 afternoon, Miss Sophy sometimes 
 brought out to her a bit of bread 
 and meat : she had saved it from her 
 own dinner, because Mrs. Somer- 
 ville, not being rich, was forced to 
 make it a rule that no food should 
 be given away at her house except 
 to sick people. 
 
 When she went to the town on 
 errands, she sometimes saw the girl 
 who had taken her place at the Black 
 Dog, — a niece of Mrs. Foster's. She 
 was always bustling about ; and be- 
 ing a lively, quick girl, had a word 
 
24 MARGARET FLETCHER. 
 
 and a laugh with every body. She 
 stopped Margaret once, and told her 
 she wondered why she came away. 
 She herself was quite happy there. 1 
 She did not mind being up late — 
 she did not mind the noise and quar- 
 relling ; she got plenty of clothes, 
 for her mistress was very fond of 
 her; and she got many a penny, and 
 even a sixpence, when she carried 
 beer out to the people who stopped 
 on market* day. Margaret did not 
 say much, but went home thinking 
 of her own hardships. But then she 
 thought of church, and her visits to 
 the parsonage, and that spring was 
 coming, and she should no longer suf- 
 fer from cold ; she would get work, 
 and, after all, she might hear of a 
 place, as others had done. Margaret 
 could feel the blessings of spring more 
 than most people, having known so 
 much of the trials of winter. 
 
 When she came home from the 
 town that evening, her mother was 
 standing at the door. She said, 
 
MARGARET FLETCHER. 
 
 25 
 
 " Are you tired ? they want you 
 up at the parsonage, and me along 
 with you. Mary Scott will take the 
 children while we go/' 
 
 Margaret was ready enough to go, 
 being not a little curious to know 
 what it was, — and curiosity makes 
 people forget that they are tired, as 
 I daresay you know. 
 
 When they got to the parsonage, 
 Mrs. Somerville sent for them into 
 the parlour. She told Mrs. Fletcher 
 that she found she must have a girl 
 to help her two maids, and she had 
 thought of Margaret. 
 
 Margaret's eyes looked brighter 
 than they had ever looked before ; 
 and Mrs. Fletcher began to curtsey, 
 and thank Mrs. Somerville ; who 
 then said, " But I must tell you fairly 
 that it will not be what is called a 
 good place. You will have much 
 to do ; and the cook, who is a good 
 woman, but rather fretful, may some- 
 times be sharp with you. I cannot 
 afford to give you wages, but I will 
 
26 
 
 MARGARET FLETCHER. 
 
 give you tidy clothing,— I can do 
 nothing more. The gain to you will 
 be going to church, and having in- 
 struction on Sundays ; joining us in 
 our family prayers, and, I trust, being 
 kept out of the way of temptation." 
 
 Margaret thought it would be hap- 
 piness enough to live in the house 
 with her friend Miss Sophy, though 
 she did not know how to say this. 
 She only said, " Thank you, ma'am, 
 thank you very much. When shall 
 I come V 
 
 This was settled for next week ; 
 and then inquiry was made about 
 Margaret's clothes. One of the 
 young ladies' old stuff frocks was to 
 be altered for her for Sundays, and 
 a blue cotton frock bought for after- 
 noons ; and her old frock was for 
 her rough work in the morning. The 
 straw-bonnet was to be cleaned ; and 
 she was to have a quite new dark 
 shawl against Easter Sunday, and a 
 pair of thinner shoes to wear about 
 the house. 
 
MARGARET FLETCHER. 27 
 
 Now the really happy time of 
 Margaret's life began. Though she 
 had a great deal of work, she took 
 pains to do it all ; and if the cook 
 was cross or scolded, she had power 
 enough over her temper not to an- 
 swer again. And when she saw girls 
 no older than herself with new frocks, 
 and smart bonnets, and gay-looking 
 shawls, if she longed once or twice 
 for such things, she took care not 
 to give them a second thought ; she 
 knew that would bring her some way 
 towards breaking the tenth com- 
 mandment. 
 
 She felt the comfort of coming in 
 with her fellow-servants to prayers 
 morning and evening, and kneeling 
 down with all the family. And on 
 Sunday, and sometimes in the week 
 when there was not much to do, 
 Miss Sophy took great pains to teach 
 her. Margaret, who did not talk 
 much to other people, used to tell 
 Miss Sophy how glad she was to be 
 
28 
 
 MARGARET FLETCHER. 
 
 there, and how she thought of the 
 public-house, and was all over in a 
 shiver like when she thought of the 
 bad words she heard there. 
 
 Miss Sophy said, " I am so glad, 
 Margaret, you think you have chang- 
 ed for the better. Mamma said, I 
 should remind you to be thankful 
 for being in a place where you can 
 go to church and learn good things, 
 and how to be handy in a house. 
 And she says you should try to for- 
 get the bad things you heard, and 
 turn your thoughts away from them- 
 You can do that by trying to think 
 of something good when they come 
 into your head. Mamma says you 
 get on very well for a beginner, and 
 cook says you will do in time. And 
 on Easter Sunday we have settled 
 that you are to go home, to spend 
 the afternoon. And look, here are 
 two shillings, Margaret, out of my 
 savings ; I shall give them to you, 
 to do what you like with. I suppose 
 
MARGARET FLETCHER. 
 
 29 
 
 you will leave them with your mo- 
 ther when you go to see her. Shall 
 not you like that ?" 
 
 Margaret said she should ; and 
 her Easter Sunday was a very happy 
 one. She stood up with the children 
 in the Sunday-school to say the Ca- 
 techism, and answered all the ques- 
 tions right. And it was a fine spring 
 afternoon ; so she walked home after 
 church with her mother to tea, and 
 spent a happy evening with her 
 brothers and sisters. 
 
 I believe she lived at the parson- 
 age till she was quite a woman, and 
 able to take the housemaid's place 
 there. 
 
 London: rorson, levey, and franklyn, 
 
 Great New Street, Fetter Lane.