in this obliviousness of her
unfilled possibilities? The same fallacy lies beneath all missionary
work, all philanthropy, all striving upward. We wish every Country Girl
in the remotest stronghold of conservatism to be touched with that
divine discontent that will stir her to an upward struggle.

Among the six million Country Girls for whom this book is written, there
are many who are tremendously and honorably efficient; there are also
many who are by no means awake to their duty and opportunity; but the
vision will soon touch the eyes of all, and will reveal to them the part
they may play in the new Country Life era.

Not for her own sake alone does any girl strive. All she does lifts
everywhere as well as in her own valley. And these beneficent influences
will reach out and include other and still other circles of girls who
repose under the protection of the republic. Among these one may see the
puzzled eyes of Porto Ricans, and of Aleutian and of Philippine girls.
And there are found two larger companies: the dark-skinned girls with
the tragic remembrance of slavery in their eyes, and the aquiline faces
of the Appalachian mountain girls, dignified and quietly expectant and
our close racial kin. Among these adoptive and neglected fields there
will be hollows of stagnation and delays of progress. For the
reclamation of these we are not by any means doing what we might as a
people; they some way escape the great abundantly filled currents of
philanthropy; and if they soon become discontented and ominous, we shall
have ourselves to blame. It would be better to be beforehand with
nature's demands and arouse noble aspirations that may forestall wrong
tendencies.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE SOLACE OF READING

THE EVENING HOUR

The day is done; the clock is striking eight;
The children now are snug and safe abed;
Still on the pillow lies each little head,
Tired out, altho' they begged to sit up late.
I cover the fire within the kitchen grate,
Mix up a light sponge for the morrow's bread,
Wind up the faithful clock; with quiet tread
Depart, and leave my kitchen to its fate.
The study calls me to my favorite nook
Beside the table, underneath the light.
Here shall I joy me with a gracious book
Until at last I bid my world good-night.
O peaceful dreams beneath the homestead roof!
Ye straighten out life's tangled warp and woof!

--_Helen Coale Crew._

CHAPTER XXIII

THE SOLACE