"I don't see as anything unusual is the matter," responded Duncan. "I believe he likes to be as hateful as possible."
"Thinketh no evil," said Herbert softly.
"Well—I know, but I can't help it, he does provoke me so."
"Is not easily provoked," continued the same soft voice.
"Dear me!" said Duncan. "If you saw as much of him as I do, you'd get provoked. He never seems to care for anybody but himself, and don't mind hurting other folk's feelings one bit. A body can't stand everything."
"Beareth all things . . . Suffereth long."
"O Bert, you are determined to throw that lesson at me in pieces. Well, I own I haven't much of that precious article so much talked about to-day. I know people who do deal largely in it, get on a great deal better; somehow it smooths off a great many sharp edges. But when I can see as plain as day that a person means to be hateful (I am not talking about Perry Morse now), or says things that aren't true, or is tricky and dishonest, how am I going to think no evil?"
"I think Miss Wynn explained that a great deal better than I can," said Herbert. "You know she said we ought to have our hearts so full of love that we would be ready to think the very best of everybody; to put the best instead of the worst construction upon their acts, and remember that they may have a true motive in many things that seem to us altogether wrong."
"It was a beautiful lesson," said Willy Loring. "It made me feel as if I should never say or think evil of anybody again."
"Oh, you dear little innocent!" exclaimed Duncan. "It isn't necessary for you to turn over a new leaf. I'd like to hear you burst out with something dreadful about somebody just for once. Do you know, little one, that you are altogether too good now? Don't, I beg of you, go to getting any better. We shall all suffocate with goodness before long. But since Perry spoke of dinner I feel my need; so come on, Bert, I'll go around your way."