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despatch at once whatever I have to do, the most disagreeable always first, and I gulp down the devil without looking at him. When all has returned to its proper state, then I defy any one to surpass me in good humour." Her heartiness and tolerance are the causes, she thinks, why every one likes her. "I am fond of people, and _that_ every one feels directly--young and old. I pass without pretension through the world, and that gratifies men. I never _bemoralise_ any one--_always seek out the good that is in them, and leave what is bad to Him who made mankind, and knows how to round off the angles_. In this way I make myself happy and comfortable." Who does not recognise the son in those accents? The kindliest of men inherited his loving, happy nature from the heartiest of women. WHERE--AND OH! WHERE? [Sidenote: _Henry S. Leigh_] Where are the times when--miles away From the din and the dust of cities-- Alexis left his lambs to play, And wooed some shepherdess half the day With pretty and plaintive ditties? Where are the pastures daisy-strewn And the flocks that lived in clover; The Zephyrs that caught the pastoral tune And carried away the notes as soon As ever the notes were over? Where are the echoes that bore the strains Each to his nearest neighbour; And all the valleys and all the plains Where all the nymphs and their love-sick swains Made merry to pipe and tabor? Where are they gone? They are gone to sleep Where Fancy alone can find them; But Arcady's times are like the sheep That quitted the care of Little Bo-peep, For they've left their tales behind them! THE SECRETS OF THE HEART [Sidenote: _Austin Dobson_] "Le coeur mene ou il va" _SCENE--A Chalet covered with honeysuckle_ NINETTE NINON NINETTE This way-- NINON No, this way-- NINETTE This way, then. (_They enter the Chalet_) You are as changing, child,--as men. NINON But are they? Is it true, I mean? Who said it? NINETTE Sister Seraphine. She was so pious and so good, With such sad eyes beneath her hood, And such poor little feet,--all bare! Her name was Eugenie la Fere. She used to tell us,--moonlight nights,-- When I was at the Carmelites. NINON Ah, then it must be right. And yet, Suppose for once--suppose, Ninette--
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