I feel sure,"
concluded poor Sara, in a hopeless tone, "that I'll NEVER be able to
understand compound multiplication."

"'Multiplication is vexation,
Division is as bad,
The rule of three perplexes me,
And fractions drive me mad,'"

quoted Dan.

"I haven't got as far as fractions yet," sighed Sara, "and I hope I'll
be too big to go to school before I do. I hate arithmetic, but I am
PASSIONATELY fond of geography."

"I will not play tit-tat-x on the fly leaves of my hymn book in church,"
wrote Peter.

"Mercy, did you ever do such a thing?" exclaimed Felicity in horror.

Peter nodded shamefacedly.

"Yes--that Sunday Mr. Bailey preached. He was so long-winded, I got
awful tired, and, anyway, he was talking about things I couldn't
understand, so I played tit-tat-x with one of the Markdale boys. It was
the day I was sitting up in the gallery."

"Well, I hope if you ever do the like again you won't do it in OUR pew,"
said Felicity severely.

"I ain't going to do it at all," said Peter. "I felt sort of mean all
the rest of the day."

"I shall try not to be vexed when people interrupt me when I'm telling
stories," wrote the Story Girl. "but it will be hard," she added with a
sigh.

"I never mind being interrupted," said Felicity.

"I shall try to be cheerful and smiling all the time," wrote Cecily.

"You are, anyway," said Sara Ray loyally.

"I don't believe we ought to be cheerful ALL the time," said the Story
Girl. "The Bible says we ought to weep with those who weep."

"But maybe it means that we're to weep cheerfully," suggested Cecily.

"Sorter as if you were thinking, 'I'm very sorry for you but I'm mighty
glad I'm not in the scrape too,'" said Dan.

"Dan, don't be irreverent," rebuked Felicity.

"I know a story about old Mr. and Mrs. Davidson of Markdale," said
the Story Girl. "She was always smiling and it used to aggravate her
husband, so one day he said very crossly, 'Old lady, what ARE you
grinning at?' 'Oh, well, Abiram, everything's so bright and pleasant,
I've just got to smile.'

"Not long after there came a time when everything went wrong--the crop
failed and their best cow died, and Mrs. Davidson had rheumatism; and
finally Mr. Davidson fell and broke his leg. But still Mrs. Davidson
smiled. 'What in the dickens are you grinning about now, old lady?'
he demanded. 'Oh, well, Abiram,' she said, 'everything is so dark and
unpleasant