"I never thought of that," said Emily Sibley, a grave, pale, prim-looking girl, one of the oldest in the school. "I always supposed imagination was something to be put down—a kind of disease of the mind."
"Not at all, my dear. Imagination is as much a faculty of the mind as reason. Like that, it should be regulated and controlled and sanctified, but no more 'put down' than reason should be 'put down.'"
"My father don't believe in missions, any way," said Matty McRae, who had listened in spite of herself. "He says the churches go running about after foreign missions and such stuff, and neglect the poor at their own door, and that every dollar given to the heathen takes five dollars to send it."
"If your father will take pains to inquire for himself, Matty, he will find both these statements untrue," answered Mrs. Campbell. "He will find that the churches which do and give the most for foreign missions are those which are most active and generous in all kinds of charitable work at home, and that the statement about the money is quite as incorrect as the other."
"Why don't some one disprove them, then?" asked Lizzy.
"They have been disproved over and over again, but that does not prevent their being repeated on every occasion."
There was a little whispering in one corner, and somebody said, as if speaking a little louder than she meant,—
"Yes, I will ask her too; I want to know how it was."
"Ask her what?" said Mrs. Campbell.
Little Mary McIntyre stood forward, flushed and rather scared, but evidently determined to know the truth.