both promised her.  You know, says she, that a small Spark will set Fire to Tinder, and that Tinder properly placed will fire a House; an angry Word is with you as that Spark, for you are both as touchy as Tinder, and very often make your own House too hot to hold you.  To prevent this, therefore, and to live happily for the future, you must solemnly agree, that if one speaks an angry Word, the other will not answer, ’till he or she has distinctly called over all the Letters in the Alphabet, and the other not reply, ’till he has told twenty; by this Means your Passions will be stifled, and Reason will have Time to take the Rule.

This is the best Recipe that was ever given for a married Couple to live in Peace:  Though John and his Wife frequently attempted to quarrel afterwards, they never could get their Passions to any considerable Height, for there was something so droll in thus carrying on the Dispute, that before they got to the End of the Argument, they saw the Absurdity of it, laughed, kissed, and were Friends.

Just as Mrs. Margery had settled this Difference between John and his Wife, the Children (who had been sent out to play, while that Business was transacting) returned some in Tears, and others very disconsolate, for the Loss of a little Dormouse they were very fond of, and which was just dead.  Mrs. Margery, who had the Art of moralizing and drawing Instructions from every Accident, took this Opportunity of reading them a Lecture on the Uncertainty of Life, and the Necessity of being always prepared for Death.  You should get up in the Morning, says she, and to conduct yourselves, as if that Day was to be your last, and lie down at Night, as if you never expected to see this World any more.  This may be done, says she, without abating of your Chearfulness, for you are not to consider Death as an Evil, but as a Convenience, as an useful Pilot, who is to convey you to a Place of greater Happiness:  Therefore, play my dear Children, and be merry; but be innocent and good.  The good Man sets Death at Defiance, for his Darts are only dreadful to the Wicked.

After this, she permitted the Children to bury the little Dormouse, and desired one of them to write his Epitaph, and here it is.

Epitaph on a DORMOUSE, really
     written by a little BOY.

  I.

  In Paper Case,
  Hard by this Place,
Dead a poor Dormouse lies;
  And soon or late,
  Summon’d by Fate,
Each Prince, each Monarch dies.

  II.

Ye Sons of Verse,
While I rehearse,
Attend instructive Rhyme;
No Sins had Dor,
To answer for,
Repent of yours in Time.

CHAP.  V.

The whole History of the Considering Cap, set forth
at large for the Benefit of all whom it may concern.

[Illustration]