Today’s post features one historically bad attitude, courtesy of Lily from the eponymous 1870 Lily’s Lesson. Look at her pout!
Not only was Lily feeling grouchy, but she was making sure that everyone could tell she was in a foul mood. In case it’s hard to tell from the above illustration, here’s what she was doing:
One round fat shoulder was pushed up out of her dress; the small hands, which should have been busy about some light work or pleasant play, were pettishly dragging to bits a sheet of white paper which might have been turned to some good use, and littering it about the door, where some one must have the trouble of picking it up; and kick, kick, kick, went the toe of the pretty shiny little boot against the rough door-step.
During the course of this 217-page tale, Lily rapidly progresses from paper-tearing and doorstep-kicking to taking off down the road without her mother, carrying her sister’s kidnapped satchel and a purloined umbrella.
Of course, in the spirit of any good cautionary tale, Lily is then mistaken for a beggar, loses the umbrella, drops the satchel (which is used as a football by even worse children), gets lost while taking a shortcut home through the woods, and falls into a frigid river.
But don’t despair, dear reader: Bruno the Dog pulls Lily from the roiling waters, and after some soul-searching and Ten-Commandments-based-reflection, she makes a full recovery while lying in her own warm bed. It’s quite heart-warming.