After saying this, any pointing out of obstacles and difficulties on her part does not present itself to their minds in the light of opposition to their plan, but of aid in helping it forward, and so places her, in their view, on their side, instead of in antagonism to them.

“What do you propose to do with the earth that you take out of the hole?” she asks.

The children had, perhaps, not thought of that.

“How would it do,” continues the mother, “to put it in your wheelbarrow and let it stay there, so that in case your plan should not succeed—­and men, in any thing that they undertake, always consider it wise to take into account the possibility that they may not succeed—­you can easily bring it all back and fill up the hole again.”

The children think that would be a very good plan.

“And how are you going to fill your hole with water when you get it dug out?” asks the mother.

They were going to carry the water from the pump in a pail.

“And how are you going to prevent spilling the water over upon your trousers and into your shoes while carrying it?”

“Oh, we will be very careful,” replied William.

“How would it do only to fill the pail half full each time,” suggests the mother.  “You would have to go more times, it is true, but that would be better than getting splashed with water.”

The boys think that that would be a very good plan.

In this manner the various difficulties to be anticipated may be brought to the notice of the children, while, they and their mother being in harmony and sympathy with each other—­and not in opposition—­in the consideration of them, she can bring them forward without any difficulty, and make them the means of teaching the children many useful lessons of prudence and precaution.

Capriciousness in Play.

The mother, then, after warning the children that they must expect to encounter many unexpected difficulties in their undertaking, and telling them that they must not be too much disappointed if they should find that they could not succeed, dismisses them to their work.  They proceed to dig the hole, putting the materials in the wheelbarrow, and then fill up the hole with water brought in half pailfuls at a time from the pump; but are somewhat disappointed to find that the water soaks away pretty rapidly into the ground, and that, moreover, it is so turbid, and the surface is so covered with little leaves, sticks, and dust, as to make it appear very doubtful whether they would be able to see the fishes if they were to succeed in catching any to put in.  However, they take their long-handled dipper and proceed towards the brook.  On the way they stop to gather some flowers that grow near the path that leads through the field, when the idea suddenly enters Lucy’s head that it would be better to make a garden than a fish-pond; flowers, as she says, being so much prettier than fishes.  So they all go back to their mother and explain the change of their plan.  They ask for leave to dig up a place which they had found where the ground was loose and sandy, and easy to dig, and to set out flowers in it which they had found in the field already in bloom.  “We are going to give up the fish-pond,” they say in conclusion, “because flowers are so much prettier than fishes.”