Company Manners.
"Well," said Bessie, very emphatically, "I think Russell Morton is the best boy there is, anyhow."
"Why so, pet?" I asked, settling myself in the midst of the busy group gathered around in the firelight.
"I can tell," interrupted Wilfred, "Bessie likes Russ because he is so polite."
"I don't care, you may laugh," said frank little Bess; "that is the reason—at least, one of them. He's nice; he don't stamp and hoot in the house—and he never says, 'Halloo Bess,' or laughs when I fall on the ice."
"Bessie wants company manners all the time," said Wilfred. And Bell added: "We should all act grown up, if she had her fastidiousness suited."
Bell, be it said in passing, is very fond of long words, and has asked for a dictionary for her next birthday present.
Dauntless Bessie made haste to retort, "Well, if growing up would make some folks more agreeable, it's a pity we can't hurry about it."
"Wilfred, what are company manners?" interposed I from the depths of my easy chair.