* * * * *
“I’d rather not try, please,” said Alice. “I’m quite content to stay here—only I am so hot and thirsty!”
“I know what you’d like,” the Queen said good-naturedly, taking a little box out of her pocket. “Have a biscuit?”
* * * * *
KIND you may think you are, and never know you are not kind. And worse than all the rest are those who force their presents on you.
My indulgent uncle, once, presented me with theatre tickets to see Bernhardt. Now it so happened that day that at the last moment I had the opportunity to meet a man, a famous man, whom I had long wanted to know, and who proved to be of the greatest help to me.
When I told my uncle, was he pleased to hear of my good luck? Not at all. Never did he forgive me for not using his tickets.
How many men who have taken the pains to secure a friend a good position are pleased to hear that he himself has discovered a better one? Only those with the Educated Heart. Like my uncle, most care more for that self-flattering glow of kindliness than for another’s best happiness.
Who ever really forgave you for being ill and missing a dinner engagement? You had no right to be ill. You gave your kind hostess a great deal of trouble and disappointment with that ptomaine poisoning of yours!
“Be happy my way!” says the parent “Marry this nice, rich man I have chosen for you—not the poor fellow you love!” But no, putting a cushion behind a man in an armchair isn’t kindness unless he happens to want it there. It may make him uncomfortable.