Be Courteous | Page 8

in
Mary, or why Mary is so charmed with her. This much I will say, but
don't you name it to any one--neither of them is at all to my fancy."

It was not wonderful that Alice did not know the secret of that affection
between two who were comparatively strangers to each other. The
reason was not plain even to Emma and Mary, for neither of them yet
knew it by the Scripture name, which is "unity of the Spirit." Each had
loved the other while as yet no word of communication had passed
between them, because each had a portion of that Spirit which binds
heart to heart. Alice would not have understood this had it been told her,
for she had never entertained this gentle Spirit. She might have done so,
for it knocks at every human heart; but there are other spirits
there--spirits that must be cast out, before that which is long-suffering,
meek, and good, will come in and sup with us. Alice would not cast
emulation, pride, envy, and jealousy out of her heart, that the good
Spirit might enter. Would she have done so, she might not have found
it so difficult to understand what Emma and Mary saw in each other to
love.
The company was now assembled under a large tree near to the
roadside. Henry had constructed a rude table, over which was spread a
cloth, and, assisted by Joshua, he was now bringing the dinner from the
wagon, while the Misses Sliver arranged the dishes.
"Here is a comfortable seat, Miss Lindsay," said Henry, when the
dinner was ready; and he led her to a rock beside the table, which was
covered with moss.
"One of nature's verdant cushions," said Susan Sliver.
"Nature is very polite to the aristocracy," whispered Fanny, loud
enough to be heard; but Emma lifted little Edwin to the rock, saying
that it was just high enough for him.
Fanny had determined to show that she was not afraid to act herself
anywhere, so she talked about matters not at all interesting to the
company, taking care to think differently from every one who
expressed an opinion.
Again the question arose in Emma's mind, whether such rudeness could
be the fruit of a good heart; but she quieted herself by saying, "I will
ask Dora about it."
After the dinner was over, Miss Margaret Sliver began to talk of some
verses that Susan had written for this occasion, and insisted on drawing
them from her pocket. Susan pretended great unwillingness; but her
sister easily possessed herself of the copy, which, with great pathos of

manner, she read to the company.
"Splendid! elegant!" exclaimed Alice; but at the same time she stepped
upon Fanny's toe, and gave her a merry sidelong glance. "Beautiful! are
they not, Mary Palmer?"
"I am no judge of poetry," said Mary, modestly; "so my opinion is not
worth having."
"You cannot say so, Miss Lindsay," continued Alice, "for I heard you
repeating some lines this morning."
"Did you," asked Emma, coloring a little, "then I think they must have
been from a hymn by James Montgomery, of which I am very fond,
and sometimes repeat unconsciously."
"Of course," said Fanny, looking suddenly at Emma, "you think Miss
Sliver equal to Montgomery."
"This is not the place for me to say whether I do or not," replied Emma,
quietly.
"I know," said Fanny, "that there are some people who think that the
truth is not to be spoken at all times; but I have never yet been afraid to
say what I think."
"There are things," said Henry, "of which we may not think rightly, and,
understanding this, some are slow to speak."
"And who is to be the judge of our thoughts," asked Fanny, "whether
they be right or wrong?"
All were silent now; not because they had no answer for Fanny's
question, but because they were not willing to give the right answer.
At last, Mary, in a low voice, replied: "The Bible should be our rule,
both for thought and word, and conscience must judge between that and
us."
"And does the Bible teach you to flatter people with your tongue, while
you are laughing at them in your sleeves?" asked Fanny.
"No," replied Mary; "but it teaches us to love our neighbor as ourselves,
to be courteous, and pitiful."
"Then I keep one requirement," said Fanny, jumping over the log,
seated upon which she had eaten her dinner; "for I do pity people who
are too mealy-mouthed to be honest--pity, or despise them, I cannot tell
which."
All now had withdrawn from the table, except Emma, Mary, Joshua
Cheever, and little Edwin. "Your milk is very nice, Mary," said Eddy,

"but it does not cure my thirst; O I do want