"What do you mean by feeling great?" asked Mrs. Rush. "Do you mean you feel vain and self-glorious?"
"No," said Maggie, "not quite that, but I feel pleased, and as if I liked it; and I know sometimes I do things because I hope people will praise me; but I am quite sure I did not do this for that, but because I felt sorry for those log-cabin children, and wanted to help them."
"I have not a doubt of it, my dear little girl," said Mrs. Rush, "and I do not think you could have been so earnest and persevering if you had not had a better motive than the desire for praise. I believe you have all done it from a sincere wish to help others who are not as well off as yourselves; and it is not wrong to like praise, Maggie, if we do not allow it to make us vain, or to cause us to cease from well-doing. We all enjoy it, old and young; and if it is sincere, and we feel that we deserve it, it is quite right to be pleased with the approval of our friends."
"But Maggie is a great deal nicer than she thinks herself," said Bessie. "I don't think anybody knows how very nice she is, 'cept me."
Mrs. Rush smiled at the affectionate little sister, who never missed a chance of saying a kind or loving word for Maggie.
So they chatted away until they reached the bookstore, where Mrs. Rush went in with the whole of her small flock. This was a very large store, and from the floor to the ceiling the walls were covered with shelves, on which lay piles on piles of books. The gentleman whom Mrs. Rush wished to see was engaged, and she sat down to wait until he should be at liberty to attend to her; while the children gathered about her, noticing all around them, and prattling away as fast as their tongues could go.
"Did you ever see such lots and lots of books?" said Gracie.
"I suppose the gentleman who owns this store must be about a million years old," said Lily.
"Why, he couldn't be," said Maggie; "only the people that lived in the Bible were so very old. I wish I had lived then, it's such fun to be alive."
"If you had lived then, you would not be alive now," said Mrs. Rush, with a smile; "and no one ever lived to be a million years old. The world has not been created so long, and the oldest man, Methuselah, was only nine hundred and sixty-nine when he died. But what made you think Mr. —— must have lived a million years, Lily?"