Percy's holidays

In Short

This gentle work of mid-Victorian juvenile fiction tells the story of Percy, an orphan who attends a boarding school and learns to conquer her tendency to "borrow trouble." By contrasting her own growing maturity with the paralyzing, chronic anxiety of an older relative, the book presents a moral argument for faith and optimism over baseless fear. It has endured as a charming, if didactic, example of the era’s "Sunday-school" literature, offering a window into the domestic values and school-life dynamics of the 1870s for a young, predominantly female readership.

The Story

Percy, a shy and studious orphan, lives under the guardianship of her kind aunt, Miss Zoe Devine. Despite her intelligence and affection for her aunt, Percy is constantly plagued by "forebodings"—a reflexive, nervous habit of imagining the worst possible outcomes for every situation. When Aunt Zoe decides to send her to a boarding school at Round Springs, Percy is initially terrified of the journey and the prospect of a cruel roommate. However, she discovers that the school is a warm, home-like environment, and she quickly forms a deep, supportive friendship with her roommate, Blandina.

As Percy settles into her studies, she begins to overcome her minor anxieties through hard work and the gentle encouragement of her peers. Yet, the habit of "borrowing trouble" remains. When she is invited to spend her Christmas holidays with a wealthy, fashionable aunt, Mrs. Ackerman, in New York City, Percy falls into a cycle of dread, imagining her aunt to be a cold, judgmental aristocrat. To her surprise, she finds the Ackerman household to be a place of quiet beauty and genuine kindness. Her aunt and cousin Margaret are warm, welcoming, and actively involved in charitable work, treating Percy not as a burdensome child, but as a beloved family member.

The climax of the story occurs during the visit of another relative, Cousin Sarah. Sarah is a woman who has allowed the very habit of "borrowing trouble" to consume her entire existence. She is perpetually frightened of everything—robbers, fires, even the potential "cotton" threads in a purchased shawl. By observing Sarah’s irrational fear and the misery it causes, Percy finally gains an objective view of her own character flaws. She realizes that her worry is not just a personality quirk, but an ungrateful lack of faith in the goodness of her life and the providence of her heavenly Father.

By the end of the holiday, Percy returns to school not fully perfected, but profoundly changed. She recognizes that "borrowing trouble" is a fault to be actively resisted. With her eyes opened by her experience with Sarah, she begins the work of replacing her nervous, fretful nature with a more serene, trusting disposition. She departs from the Ackermans with a sense of gratitude, having learned that the "dreadful" futures she once invented were merely ghosts of her own making, and that true peace lies in focusing on the duties and joys of the present day.

How It Unfolds

The burden of anticipation Percy is introduced as a girl who constantly fears missing her lessons or failing her responsibilities, even when those fears are entirely unfounded. Her aunt Zoe attempts to guide her, but Percy remains trapped in a cycle of imagining obstacles that do not exist.

The schoolhouse relief Upon arriving at her new boarding school, Percy finds her worst fears—a harsh environment and unkind peers—completely invalidated. She experiences the joy of friendship and the satisfaction of academic success, yet she still clings to her anxious patterns.

The holiday crisis The invitation to visit a "fashionable" aunt in New York triggers a wave of panic, as Percy assumes she will be scorned or treated poorly. This section details her internal struggle against the "monsters" she has conjured in her own imagination.

The mirror of anxiety The arrival of the perpetually fearful Cousin Sarah provides a stark, mirror-like reflection of Percy’s own behavior. Witnessing Sarah’s life of constant, unfounded terror forces Percy to confront the absurdity and lack of faith inherent in her own worry.

The resolution of character Aunt Ackerman provides the final instruction, explaining that constant worry is a neglect of trust in divine providence. Percy concludes her visit with a firm resolution to stop "borrowing trouble" and to embrace the present with a thankful heart.

The People

Percy acts as the story's emotional center. She is bright, sensitive, and deeply attached to her caretakers, yet her life is hindered by her "forebodings." By the end, she transforms from a girl driven by fear into a self-aware individual who recognizes that her anxiety is a choice she can—and must—reject.

Aunt Zoe serves as the calm, rational anchor of the story. She is the steady hand that guides Percy toward education and independence, providing the necessary boundaries that allow Percy to grow.

Blandina, Percy’s roommate, is the voice of reason and teenage pragmatism. She is the first to directly challenge Percy’s "silly" worries, showing her that a good attitude is the best antidote to uncertainty.

Mrs. Ackerman is the gentle, maternal figure who proves Percy’s worst assumptions wrong. She represents grace and quiet wisdom, ultimately providing the final, crucial lesson on the spiritual implications of anxiety.

Cousin Sarah stands as the cautionary tale. She is entirely defined by her fears, having reached a point of middle age where she can no longer find joy in her home or her possessions. She acts as the essential "mirror" that allows Percy to see the future she is avoiding.

In Its Own Voice

"You do go beyond everybody I ever saw, for putting mountains in your own way!"

Aunt Zoe gently rebukes Percy for her tendency to catastrophize simple, routine tasks before she has even begun them.

"I don't think it is very gracious or very grateful; why do you suppose your aunt took the trouble of inviting you to visit her, except to give you pleasure and do you a kindness?"

Percy’s friend, Jenny, points out that Percy’s reflexive dread of the holiday visit is an insult to the kindness of her relatives.

"Aunt Ackerman, I never will borrow any trouble again as long as I live."

Following a series of mundane ferry crossings and errands that proved harmless, Percy finally articulates her desire to change her outlook on life.

What It's Really About

The central argument is that anxiety is not merely an emotional struggle, but a failure of faith and a form of ingratitude. The book posits that when we spend our mental energy living in a future of our own negative invention, we are essentially rejecting the goodness of the present moment. The story suggests that "borrowing trouble" is a corrosive habit that, if left unchecked, hardens into a joyless existence. By framing this through the lens of a schoolgirl’s development, the author argues that character is built by choosing to trust in the present, thereby aligning one’s internal state with a sense of divine peace rather than worldly fear.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate the quiet domesticity of Little Women or the earnest moral inquiries of 19th-century children’s literature will find this a familiar and comforting read. It offers a gentle, unhurried pace that stands in stark contrast to the relentless speed of modern life. You will find the prose warm, though the didactic nature of the moral lessons—which emphasize obedience and traditional piety—may feel heavy-handed to a contemporary reader. The period-specific attitudes, particularly the sharp, sometimes satirical depiction of the fearful Cousin Sarah, provide an interesting look at how Victorian writers used character extremes to highlight personality flaws.

What stays with you is not the school setting, but the relatable, timeless struggle against self-inflicted stress. While the book is firmly rooted in the 1870s, the psychological portrait of a child paralyzed by the "what ifs" of the world is strikingly modern. If you have ever felt the weight of anxiety over something that never actually came to pass, you may find the story of Percy’s realization both poignant and useful. It is a slim, earnest book that serves as a quiet reminder to let the morrow take care of itself.