These little acts of
kindness can never be felt, except in pleasure by us, while they will
direct a stray feeling of happiness to more than one deserving heart.
It is a refreshment of the soul, to poor and rich, to know that others
care for them. What should we live for, if not to lighten each other's
labors, and make each other happy?"

"If what father believes is true, and it looks quite rational, we
praise God most, when we are most like him, and are faithful and
free-hearted to his children. And who of us desires more praise from
those we wait on, than a look of gratitude, and the assurance that we
have given a blessing? But, George _did_ look so thankful! Poor
George, how hard he has worked to be somebody in the world!"

"They all looked thankful, and what was better, they rose and went to
work again with a lighter step, as though they felt younger and
stronger. But, George has given you several such looks of late, and
sometimes when your eyes were another way. I begin to think he means
something."

"How you talk, mother!--What, looked at me several times? And when my
eyes were another way?" returned Fanny, blushing like a quince blossom.

"Well, he cannot mean anything more than thanks for our small
attentions."

"George is a fine young man," said Mrs. Fabens, "if the Cressey girls,
and Desdemona Faddle do feel above him. They will set their caps in
vain for Merchant Fairbanks, for he detests their foolish pride and
finery as much as any one, and laughs in his sleeves, I'll warrant, at
their dangling curls, and their silly lisping talk, when they try to
speak polite to him; although he likes to flirt with them, and make
them think he is ready to die for them."

"And why should _they_ feel themselves better than George?" asked
Fanny. "They don't astonish the world with good looks, or refinement
of manners or mind. Their fathers are rich I know, and they have
nothing to do but dress, and study etiquette. They can hardly stoop to
what they call common people. But I don't envy them at all. They were
always disliked at school, and were always at the foot of their class.
If I were going to feel large and boast, I would want something besides
wealth to feel large about. I am sure I would sooner envy George
Ludlow, if he is not handsome, and is poor, and works out to support
his father and mother. He knows something, and has riches of the heart
I believe. But I cannot think why he should look at me,