"They are not earnest workers; they haven't the slightest idea that they were put upon earth to reform the universe,--they're just happy. They run across great stretches of clear, white sand, washed with resplendent purple waves, and, when the little brown babies roll in the surf, their brown mothers run after them, laughing and splashing like a lot of children. Or, perhaps we see them in gay cavalcades mounted upon garlanded ponies, adorned by white jasmine wreaths with roses and pinks. And here in this paradise of laughter and light hearts and gentle music, there's absolutely nothing to do but to care for the children and old people and to swim or ride. You couldn't start a 'reform circle' to save your life; there isn't a jail in the place, nor a tenement quarter, and there are no outdoor poor. There isn't a woman's club in Honolulu,--not a club. There was a culture circle once for a few days; a Boston woman who went there for her health organized it, but it interfered with afternoon nap-time, so nobody came." When, hereafter, we talk about worrying women, we must take into account our Hawaiian sisters, if we will average up the amount of worry _per capita_, in our nation. A WEATHER BREEDER. It is probably quite within bounds to say that one out of three of our American farming population, women and men, never enjoy a beautiful day without first reminding you that "It is one of those infernal weather breeders." Habitual fretters see more trouble than others. They are never so well as their neighbors. The weather never suits them. The climate is trying. The winds are too high or too low; it is too hot or too cold, too damp or too dry. The roads are either muddy or dusty. "I met Mr. N. one wet morning," says Dr. John Todd; "and, bound as I was to make the best of it, I ventured: "'Good morning. This rain will be fine for your grass crop.' 'Yes, perhaps,' he replied, 'but it is very bad for corn; I don't think we'll have half a crop.' "A few days later, I met him again. 'This is a fine sun for corn, Mr. N.' "'Yes,' said he, 'but it's awful for rye; rye wants cold weather.' "One cool morning soon after, I said: 'This is a capital day for rye.' "'Yes,' he said, 'but it is the worst kind of weather for corn and grass; they want heat to bring them forward.'" There are a vast number of fidgety, nervous, and eccentric people who live only to expect new disappointments or to recount their old ones. "Impatient people," said Spurgeon, "water their miseries, and hoe up their comforts."