How To Do It | Page 7

the Colonel Mansfield party came in from the
dining-room, Steve screamed out, "Take your partners for a Virginia
Reel." No! I do not know whose partner was who; only this, that there
were seventeen boys and men and seventeen girls or women, besides
me and Mrs. Van Astrachan and Colonel Mansfield and Pauline's
mother. And we danced till for one I was almost dead, and then we
went to bed, to wake up at five in the morning to see the sunrise.
As we sat on the rocks, on the eastern side, I introduced Stephen to
Sybil Dyer,--the last two who had not known each other. And I got
talking with a circle of young folks about what the communion of
saints is,--meaning, of course, just such unselfish society as we had
there. And so dear Laura said, "Why will you not write us down
something of what you are saying, Mr. Hale?" And Jo Gresham said,
"Pray do,--pray do; if it were only to tell us
"HOW TO DO IT."

Chapter II.

I wish the young people who propose to read any of these papers to
understand to whom they are addressed. My friend, Frederic Ingham,
has a nephew, who went to New York on a visit, and while there
occupied himself in buying "travel-presents" for his brothers and sisters
at home. His funds ran low; and at last he found that he had still three
presents to buy and only thirty-four cents with which to buy them. He
made the requisite calculation as to how much he should have for
each,--looked in at Ball and Black's, and at Tiffany's, priced an
amethyst necklace, which he thought Clara would like, and a set of
cameos for Fanfan, and found them beyond his reach. He then tried at a
nice little toy-shop there is a little below the Fifth Avenue House, on
the west, where a "clever" woman and a good-natured girl keep the
shop, and, having there made one or two vain endeavors to suit himself,
asked the good-natured girl if she had not "got anything a fellow could
buy for about eleven cents." She found him first one article, then
another, and then another. Wat bought them all, and had one cent in his
pocket when he came home.
In much the same way these several articles of mine have been waiting
in the bottom of my inkstand and the front of my head for seven or nine
years, without finding precisely the right audience or circle of readers. I
explained to Mr. Fields--the amiable Sheik of the amiable tribe who
prepare the "Young Folks" for the young folks--that I had six articles
all ready to write, but that they were meant for girls say from thirteen to
seventeen, and boys say from fourteen to nineteen. I explained that girls
and boys of this age never read the "Atlantic," O no, not by any means!
And I supposed that they never read the "Young Folks," O no, not by
any means! I explained that I could not preach them as sermons,
because many of the children at church were too young, and a few of
the grown people were too old. That I was, therefore, detailing them in
conversation to such of my young friends as chose to hear. On which
the Sheik was so good as to propose to provide for me, as it were, a
special opportunity, which I now use. We jointly explain to the older
boys and girls, who rate between the ages of thirteen and nineteen, that
these essays are exclusively for them.
I had once the honor--on the day after Lee's surrender--to address the
girls of the 12th Street School in New York. "Shall I call you 'girls' or
'young ladies'?" said I. "Call us girls, call us girls," was the unanimous

answer. I heard it with great pleasure; for I took it as a nearly certain
sign that these three hundred young people were growing up to be true
women,--which is to say, ladies of the very highest tone.
"Why did I think so?" Because at the age of fifteen, sixteen, and
seventeen they took pleasure in calling things by their right names.
So far, then, I trust we understand each other, before any one begins to
read these little hints of mine, drawn from forty-five years of very quiet
listening to good talkers; which are, however, nothing more than hints.

How To Talk.
Here is a letter from my nephew Tom, a spirited, modest boy of
seventeen, who is a student of the Scientific School at New Limerick.
He is at home with his mother for an eight weeks' vacation; and the
very first evening of his return he went round with her to the
Vandermeyers', where was a little