LVII. ON SPEAKING LOUDLY.
107. The Woman who Shouted.
The train had just steamed into the railway station, when a porter opened the carriage door to let a lady step in—at least she looked like a lady, and was dressed most elegantly. Her gown was of silk, over which she wore a rich fur-lined cloak, and her bonnet was quite smart with feathers and flowers. As she drew off her gloves, you could not help noticing that her fingers were covered with glittering rings. "Surely she must be going to some grand concert, or to a party," thought we.
But listen to what happened next! Just before the train started she suddenly opened the carriage window, and leaning out as far as ever she could, shouted in a loud, rough voice, so loudly that all the people round could hear, "Heigh! you porter there, is my luggage all right?" Then she closed the window and sat down, and we felt that in spite of her finery she was a rude, rough woman, for a lady is gentle, and would never speak in a loud, coarse voice that grates on those who hear it.
Never speak too loudly either out of doors or elsewhere; keep always a soft, sweet voice.
Speak gently, for a gentle voice
Is loved, like music sweet;
Coarse tones and loud are out of place
At home or on the street.