There was
absolutely nothing to do. A little sweeping and dusting about the
cottage, I suppose, and the gathering of fresh flowers (which were only
too abundant everywhere), and arranging them in vases--and poor little
Pandora's day's work was over. And then, for the rest of the day, there
was the box!
After all, I am not quite sure that the box was not a blessing to her in
its way. It supplied her with such a variety of ideas to think of, and
to talk about, whenever she had anybody to listen! When she was in good
humour, she could admire the bright polish of its sides, and the rich
border of beautiful faces and foliage that ran all around it. Or, if she
chanced to be ill-tempered, she could give it a push, or kick it with
her naughty little foot. And many a kick did the box--(but it was a
mischievous box, as we shall see, and deserved all it got)--many a kick
did it receive. But, certain it is, if it had not been for the box, our
active-minded little Pandora would not have known half so well how to
spend her time as she now did.
For it was really an endless employment to guess what was inside. What
could it be, indeed? Just imagine, my little hearers, how busy your wits
would be, if there were a great box in the house, which, as you might
have reason to suppose, contained something new and pretty for your
Christmas or New Year's gifts.
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