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Amelia And The Dwarfs
by
And this was how it came about that Amelia had to wash her dirty frocks. Let any little girl try to wash one of her dresses; not to half wash it, not to leave it stained with dirty water, but to wash it quite clean. Let her then try to starch and iron it–in short, to make it look as if it had come from the laundress–and she will have some idea of what poor Amelia had to learn to do. There was no help for it. When she was working she very seldom saw the dwarfs; but if she were idle or stubborn, or had any hopes of getting away, one was sure to start up at her elbow and pinch her funny-bone, or poke her in the ribs, till she did her best. Her back ached with stooping over the wash-tub; her hands and arms grew wrinkled with soaking in hot soapsuds, and sore with rubbing. Whatever she did not know how to do, the woman of the heath taught her. At first, whilst Amelia was sulky, the woman of the heath was sharp and cross; but when Amelia became willing and obedient, she was good-natured, and even helped her.
The first time that Amelia felt hungry she asked for some food.
“By all means,” said one of the dwarfs; “there is plenty down here which belongs to you;” and he led her away till they came to a place like the first, except that it was covered with plates of broken meats; all the bits of good meat, pie, pudding, bread-and-butter, etc., that Amelia had wasted beforetime.
“I can’t eat cold scraps like these,” said Amelia, turning away.
“Then what did you ask for food for before you were hungry?” screamed the dwarf, and he pinched her and sent her about her business.
After a while she became so famished that she was glad to beg humbly to be allowed to go for food; and she ate a cold chop and the remains of a rice pudding with thankfulness. How delicious they tasted! She was surprised herself at the good things she had rejected. After a time she fancied she would like to warm up some of the cold meat in a pan, which the woman of the heath used to cook her own dinner in, and she asked for leave to do so.
“You may do anything you like to make yourself comfortable, if you do it yourself,” said she; and Amelia, who had been watching her for many times, became quite expert in cooking up the scraps.
As there was no real daylight underground, so also there was no night. When the old woman was tired she lay down and had a nap, and when she thought that Amelia had earned a rest, she allowed her to do the same. It was never cold, and it never rained, so they slept on the heath among the flowers.
They say that “It’s a long lane that has no turning,” and the hardest tasks come to an end some time, and Amelia’s dresses were clean at last; but then a more wearisome work was before her. They had to be mended. Amelia looked at the jagged rents made by the hedges; the great gaping holes in front where she had put her foot through; the torn tucks and gathers. First she wept, then she bitterly regretted that she had so often refused to do her sewing at home that she was very awkward with her needle. Whether she ever would have got through this task alone is doubtful, but she had by this time become so well-behaved and willing that the old woman was kind to her, and, pitying her blundering attempts, she helped her a great deal; whilst Amelia would cook the old woman’s victuals, or repeat stories and pieces of poetry to amuse her.
“How glad I am that I ever learnt anything!” thought the poor child: “everything one learns seems to come in useful some time.”