"Every bit of hopefulness does one good, you know," Mary went on softly. "You laugh at me for quoting 'Pa Gladden' so often, but he says 'Human nature air always huntin' for the cheerful,' and I have noticed that cheery people bring sunshine."
"I know one thing," said Cecil, "gloomy people are never liked."
"Well, there is no better way of being cheerful than to have a firm hope in God," said Mary. "I was reading the other day one verse with a whole list of names, that David, in exulting thankfulness, calls the Lord his God. Just listen to them, and see if your heart does not grow stronger and braver and more hopeful as I repeat them—"
Mary's little Bible was tucked into her workbasket close handy, and she leant down toward the blaze of the fire to read the very words.
"'The Lord is my Rock, and my Fortress, and my Deliverer;
my God, my Strength, in whom I will trust;
my Buckler, and the horn of my Salvation, and my High Tower.'"
"A pretty good list!" said Cecil smiling. "Where is it, Mary?"
"The second verse of the eighteenth Psalm."
"All in one verse?" asked Nancy.
"All in one verse! That is a verse for those who are out in the world, fighting the everyday battles; and there is another for the weak and tired ones, that is just as wonderful—"
"Well, let's have it," said Tom in his blunt hearty fashion, "then we can take our choice."