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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
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