“Tired!” sniffed Benedicta.
“Aren’t you—ever?” questioned Polly.
“Oh, I get weary occasionally; but gen’ally I keep goin’.”
“And you never feel that you cannot stand up another minute?”
“Yere, once in a while I do.”
“What then?”
“Wal,” said Benedicta slowly, “if I c’n see a place where I c’n set down, I set. But if I can’t, I just smile and go it.”
“Smile?”
“Yere. Don’t seem as if smilin’ would help out so much, but it does. Smilin’ is amazin’ly restful.”
“I wonder if that is how you can do so much work,” marveled Polly. “If it is, I think I will smile.”