"Now, mother, thee sees that Emily Warren believes in the terrors of the law."
"Thee wouldn't be a very good one at enforcing them, Emily," said Mrs.
Yocomb, nodding her head smilingly toward her favorite.
"The trouble is," said Miss Warren a little sadly, "that some laws enforce themselves. I know of so many worn-out people in New York, both men and women, that I wish that Mr. Yocomb's words were printed at the head of ail our leading newspapers."
"Yes," said Mr. Yocomb, "if editors and newspaper writers were only as eager to quiet the people as they are to keep up the hubbub of the world, they might make their calling a useful one. It almost takes away my breath to read some of our great journals."
"Do you not think laziness the one pre-eminent vice of the world?" tasked.
"Not of native-born Americans. I think restlessness, nervous activity, is the vice of our age. I am out of the whirl, and can see it all the more clearly. Thee admits that thy city life was killing thee—I know it would kill me in a month."
"I would like to have a chance to be killed by it," said Adah, with a sigh.
"Thy absence would be fatal to some in the country," I heard Silas
Jones remark, and with a look designed to be very reproachful.
"Don't tell me that. Melissa Bunting would soon console thee."
"Thee stands city life quite well, Emily," said Mrs. Yocomb.