The third thing, was "Welcoming strangers and new scholars" in the church and in the school. Here a breeze sprung up. Mr. Richmond had remarked upon the great importance of this duty and the common neglect of it; nevertheless there seemed to be some prospect that the neglect would continue. Mrs. Trembleton asked, "How were such strangers to be welcomed?"
"What would you like yourself, Mrs. Trembleton? Suppose you were to go to a strange church, where you knew nobody. Would it be pleasant to have some one come up and take your hand and say you were welcome? and give you a greeting when you met in the street?—perhaps come to see you?"
"I think," said Mrs. Trembleton, after a pause, "it would depend a good deal on who it was did it!"
"Whether it would be pleasant?" said Mr. Richmond, smiling. "But you do not doubt that it would be pleasant to any stranger to have you come up and speak and shake hands, and do such offices of kindness?"
"It might be pleasant to them," said Mrs. Trembleton. "I don't think I should like to do it to everybody."
"What do you say, Miss Benyon?" Mr. Richmond asked.
"Oh, I couldn't, Mr. Richmond!" the young lady answered, shrinking.
"I'll do it," spoke out one of the boys.
"George Lockwood will welcome strangers, Mr. Van Dyke," said the minister. "And Willie Edwards holds up his hand,—and Ben Barth. But shall we have none but the boys to do the welcoming? The new scholars will not be all boys. Ah! there is Miss Peach; Ellen Peach, Mr. Van Dyke;—and Maria Englefield,—and Sarah Bent."
"Won't it make confusion in the school?" Mr. Van Dyke suggested.