I was surprised to see that all this time everything was done by the child, and that there appeared to be no other persons but ourselves in the house.

I took advantage of a moment when she was absent to venture a hint on this point, to which the old man replied that there were few grown persons as trustworthy or as careful as she.
'It always grieves me,' I observed, roused by what I took to be his selfishness, 'it always grieves me to contemplate the initiation of children into the ways of life, when they are scarcely more than infants.

It checks their confidence and simplicity--two of the best qualities that Heaven gives them--and demands that they share our sorrows before they are capable of entering into our enjoyments.' 'It will never check hers,' said the old man looking steadily at me, 'the springs are too deep.

Besides, the children of the poor know but few pleasures.

Even the cheap delights of childhood must be bought and paid for.
'But--forgive me for saying this--you are surely not so very poor'-- said I.
'She is not my child, sir,' returned the old man.