As for her sister, she made herself so hated, that her own mother drove her from the house. The miserable girl, having gone about in vain trying to find someone who would take her in, crept away into the corner of a wood, and there died.
Of higher worth are gentle words
Than diamonds or gold,
And even o’er the minds of men
A greater power they hold.
It costs some pains to be polite,
And needs some kindly thought,
But soon or late, as here you see,
Reward will come unsought.