ping in at
`Verney's.' If the stock does not supply what one wants (it rarely
does!) there is always `a startling line' in something else, and a smell
of flannel thrown in. `We are out of white gloves this morning, but I
have a very fine line in unbleached calico!' Mr Verney is a deacon of
the chapel; Mrs Verney was in the millinery, and has hankerings after
the church. We notice a general tendency among the maidens of dissent
to appear at the parish church, what time they possess new garments or
hats... After we have bought our packets of needles, or a box of pins,
we meet our friends in the front shop, and gossip. Such a lot of talk,
about such little, little things! There are days when it's amusing
enough; days when it's the driest dust. Last year a friend of mine
started a `Thankfulness Society,' as a cure for the grumbling and
discontent which is apt to engulf spinsters in a country place. Each
member was presented with a little book, and was bound to inscribe
therein the special causes of thankfulness which had occurred during
each day. I refused to join. I said if I ceased to grumble it would
have a demoralising effect on my character. No use to grumble?
Fiddlesticks! _Every_ use! As a dear old American friend used to say:
`When you feel like scratching, it's not a mite of use rolling your
eyes, and trying to be a saint--just let yourself go, and be right down
_ugly_ for a few minutes, and it will be a heap better for you, and
every one concerned!' The secretary was shocked. She said if one
realised one's blessings, one would not _wish_ to grumble... I said
that considered as a trial the grumbler was not in it, compared with the
persistent optimist. Nothing on earth is more embittering than to live
with a persistently amiable person. Imagine living with a certificated
optimist bound over to be thankful through thick and thin, when the soot
falls, the soup is singed, and the new dress does _not_ come home! ...
Imagine the conversation, the maddening serenity of the smile!
Optimists are admirable in calamity, but in the simple aggravations of
daily life they are just the most depressing creatures upon earth!

"Well, I'm sorry! Now I've had my growl, and (Yankee again!) feel as
`good as pie,' You might as well know what a grumbling, discontented
wretch I am, and if you ask me why this special fit attacked me just
this special morning, well, I _know_, but I'm not going to tell. I'll
answer anothe