_Emily_. But you know, Ferdinand, _that_ is not the natural size of the
Chinese ladies' feet: they are confined, while they are babies, with
very tight bandages, which prevent them from growing.
_Louisa._ I am glad I am not a Chinese little girl. Such small feet
cannot be very useful to them when they grow up to be women, I think.
_Mrs. B._ Indeed, they are not: The poor things are perfect cripples,
and are obliged to be carried wherever they go.
_Ferdinand._ Oh, how I pity them! They can never run about and enjoy
themselves while they are little, as we do, Louisa.
_Mrs. B._ Indeed, my dear Ferdinand, an English child has great cause
for thankfulness, on many accounts. I know of no country where the real
happiness and welfare of children is so carefully studied.
_Emily._ In China, however, the boys are educated with considerable
care. In their early studies, geography is particularly attended to. At
six years of age, they are made acquainted with the names of the
principal parts of the world; at eight, they are instructed in the rules
of politeness; and at ten are sent to a public school, where they learn
reading, writing, and arithmetic. From thirteen to fifteen they are
taught music; they do not, however, sing merry songs, as we do, but
serious sentences, or moral precepts. They also practise the use of the
bow, and are taught to ride.
Pages:
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45