"George Ludlow looked up to me so thankful, when I turned his bowl of coffee," said Fanny, "and it seemed to taste so good, and revive him so, I felt more than paid; I was myself refreshed by my trouble."
"It does them all good, not only to be refreshed with what nature requires, but to know that we care for them. These little acts of kindness can never be felt, except in pleasure by us, while they will direct a stray feeling of happiness to more than one deserving heart. It is a refreshment of the soul, to poor and rich, to know that others care for them. What should we live for, if not to lighten each other's labors, and make each other happy?"
"If what father believes is true, and it looks quite rational, we praise God most, when we are most like him, and are faithful and free-hearted to his children. And who of us desires more praise from those we wait on, than a look of gratitude, and the assurance that we have given a blessing? But, George did look so thankful! Poor George, how hard he has worked to be somebody in the world!"
"They all looked thankful, and what was better, they rose and went to work again with a lighter step, as though they felt younger and stronger. But, George has given you several such looks of late, and sometimes when your eyes were another way. I begin to think he means something."
"How you talk, mother!—What, looked at me several times? And when my eyes were another way?" returned Fanny, blushing like a quince blossom.
"Well, he cannot mean anything more than thanks for our small attentions."
"George is a fine young man," said Mrs. Fabens, "if the Cressey girls, and Desdemona Faddle do feel above him. They will set their caps in vain for Merchant Fairbanks, for he detests their foolish pride and finery as much as any one, and laughs in his sleeves, I'll warrant, at their dangling curls, and their silly lisping talk, when they try to speak polite to him; although he likes to flirt with them, and make them think he is ready to die for them."
"And why should they feel themselves better than George?" asked Fanny. "They don't astonish the world with good looks, or refinement of manners or mind. Their fathers are rich I know, and they have nothing to do but dress, and study etiquette. They can hardly stoop to what they call common people. But I don't envy them at all. They were always disliked at school, and were always at the foot of their class. If I were going to feel large and boast, I would want something besides wealth to feel large about. I am sure I would sooner envy George Ludlow, if he is not handsome, and is poor, and works out to support his father and mother. He knows something, and has riches of the heart I believe. But I cannot think why he should look at me, as you say, mother."
"I like your ideas of greatness, Fanny," replied Mrs. Fabens, "I like your ideas of greatness, and am glad you do not join those foolish girls in a pride that would despise such a young man. True greatness is of the mind, and riches are of the heart. But let us hurry with our refreshments, for it is beautiful out now, and they must be hungry, and we will enjoy it with them."
They plied themselves briskly, and about four o'clock the white cloths were laid under a cool maple shade-tree, and on them was spread a sumptuous lunch of fricasseed chickens, to be taken leisurely with flowing cups of coffee, and followed with saucers of raspberries and cream, and large and luscious pieces of blackberry pie. The look of thankfulness and cheer which the men all returned for such a refreshment, more than rewarded them, and sweet was the gratification with which they themselves and the good-hearted Fabens partook of the rural meal.