“Cheerfulness;” seeing that he compelled me to it. “Your nature is morbid and melancholy. Just try to think that people will like you.
“But they do not.”
“Then you must give them something to like. Suppose we all hid away our brightness?”
He laughed.
“It would be a rather blue world. But to try for admiration.”
“You don’t try for admiration. You give freely of the very best you have. You remember about the little boy who hid his cake away until it was mouldy and spoiled?”
“I believe you always give of the best here. And you never seem to have any lack.”
“Did you ever break off a sprig of lemon verbena? Three new shoots come in its place. When I was a little girl mamma explained it to me, and said that if you nipped off one bit of pleasantness for a friend or neighbor, something grew instantly for the next one. You never give away all your joy and good feeling.”
He sighed a little, and said slowly—
“I believe I shall begin with my temper. I have always known that it was bad, and expected to keep it all my life, but if it could be made a little more reasonable!”