Hey, friends! I wasn't sure if I wanted to continue this or not, but after pondering some lovely advice of Niphuria's, I've finally accepted the challenge! :D I've planned for it to be about 10 chapters long, a year passing with each chapter. So let's see how this works out, shall we?

. . . . .

DOBBIN THE BLACKSMITH

The village forge old Dobbin kept,
And earned his bread from day to day;
For up he rose when others slept,
And worked while others were at play.

The gossips of the town would pay
A morning visit to his shop;
And while old Dobbin worked away,
They talked as if they'd never stop.

Thus Farmer Dogberry, you see,
Lays down the law to Beadle Dio;
While Ploughman Ox appears to be
The wisest of the idle trio.

But Dobbin only blinks his eyes,
For he has honest work to do,
And thinks that talk, however wise,
Will never mend a horse's shoe.

Like Dobbin, let us learn to keep
A watchful eye and silent tongue;
And never let our conscience sleep
When idle gossips we're among.

Alice pondered that poem for a while, thinking over its obvious message. She had found it in a children's book her father had bought her- she was supposedly reading an educational novel at this time- and thought to read it. She often tried to learn the message that children's books taught, because there always was one and most of the time, she thought them humorous. This one? Don't waste time gossiping. Oh yes, Faith and Fiona Chataway certainly learned that one.

TABBY THE PIPER

As Tabby lay basking one day in the sun,
A-longing for something to eat,
He thought to himself 'twould be capital fun
To play on a pipe for his meat.

So Tabby, who was an ingenious cat,
Ran off to his home in the mews,
Where he put on a coat and a wide-awake hat,
And breeches and stockings and shoes.

And then in the road, with his pipe in his mouth,
He played such a comical air,
That he startled the folk in the north and the south,
And the east and the west of the square.

From Piggy the porter he got but a laugh,
Ducky the housemaid a quack,
And Carlo the groom gave him nothing but chaff,
So Tabby went dinnerless back.

So people who sometimes, led on by conceit,
Attempt what they cannot well do,
A warning should take from poor Tabby's defeat,
Or they may get ridiculed too.

Alice always remembered this one in particular because of its horrible message; Don't do what brings stares. What if the tabby had practiced more? All he wanted was something to eat. And what if the tabby liked to play his pipe? Just because he wasn't the best pipe-player didn't mean he should stop.

Alice sighed. She was sitting on her bed, stalling her studies. Her mind just wasn't there today.

Her bedroom door opened and Alice quickly slid her book under the sheets. Her mother took one look at her and sighed. "Alice, you're supposed to be preparing for your lessons. What are you doing?"

"Er. . ." She looked around for some believable excuse. Perhaps a snake would slither through her window. She was hiding from the snake! She peeked at her window from the corner of her eye. Nothing came.

Helen came up to her and lifted the sheets, revealing the culprit. Her mother looked at her with a discouraging smile and blank eyes. "Oh, Alice. One day you'll learn that these books have taught you nothing. Your father and I bought you school books for a reason, young lady."

Alice sat up and slid out of bed, earning a tisk, tisk from her mother as her dress wrinkled. "I'm sorry," she said.

Her mother guided her out of the room with a hand on her back. She walked down the hall, headed for the tea room, to meet with her tutor. "Next time, Alice." She said that every time. Next time what?

They passed her father's study. Alice peeked through the doorway as they passed, expecting to see her father reading in the large chair behind his desk. He wasn't there. She looked up at her mother. "Where's father?" she asked.

Helen swallowed, still looking ahead. "He had an appointment."

"Political or. . . ?"

Her mother nodded gravely.

Alice frowned. It had been a year since she'd learned of her father's illness. Her mother wasn't too keen on Alice knowing about it, but her father said that she was bound to figure it out one day. He just hadn't expected her to find out so soon. Alice smiled smugly at that.

Every once in a while, maybe every two months or so, Charles would leave for a day for a medical examination. He told her it was to track the illness's actions and movements, or something along the likes of that. She worried about him. Her father deserved the best of everything and anything, and here this illness was, messing with him. Of all people.

"Alice," a voice said softly. She looked up at her mother with big eyes. Helen smiled apologetically at her. "No matter what happens, life we go on normally. You understand? Nothing will keep our family apart."

"I understand."

"Good." They stopped outside the tea room's doors. "You're a strong girl, Alice. Believe that."

With a small nod, Alice entered the tea room and shut the doors behind her, hiding her mother's worried expression.

. . . . .

Rachel: Hopefully this story will progress well and be interesting enough for y'all.

Insanity: We may live in Indiana, the state of corn, but that is no excuse for you to use Y'ALL!

Rachel: Y'all better come on back now, ya hear?

Insanity: Pitiful.