A good many of you have been to school enough to study U. S. history, and you remember about the stern old Puritan who settled in New England and the Cavalier who settled in the South. Well, we Puritan Yankees, many of whom have been taught to feel that it is a sin even to greet an acquaintance with “I’m glad to see you,” when for some reason we cannot be glad at heart, are very much annoyed when we come South, by being so often deceived, because we cannot tell how much allowance to make for expressions which were intended only to please. For instance, I explain a difficult problem, and ask if it is understood. “Yes, ma’am,” is the prompt reply. Surprised, as well as delighted, at the brightness of my pupil, I ask, “Are you sure you understand perfectly?” “Yes, ma’am,” with as much assurance as before. The next day I assign the problem to the confident pupil, and he knows nothing about it. Or, a pupil comes to me for assistance in a problem. I give it, and he replies: “I started to do it that way, but thought it was wrong.” Of course, such a strange thing as thinking we were wrong when we were right, could not happen very often. But when the same words—“I started to do it that way, but thought it was wrong,” and other expressions equally suspicious, are often repeated, with what weight they come to fall upon our hearts, almost burying our hope and courage as we see how hard it is to be simply true. So you see there was some reason for my first friend’s saying she preferred honesty to refinement. Now, perhaps some frank, brave little boy or girl is thinking—I’m not deceitful; I always say what I think, whether people like it or not. My dear little friend, do not be too proud of that honest tongue! Does not the same Bible that teaches us to be truthful, also say, “Be courteous,” and “Be ye kind!” Need I be either a severe Puritan or an insincere Cavalier? You see we old people cannot help feeling that somehow these Puritans and Cavaliers helped to make people believe that one must either be blunt and honest or refined and deceitful. It is a great pity that we should ever think beautiful, lovely Truth, must always speak cold or cutting words. Now we ought not to fret because we cannot make everything straight in this crooked world, but should we not be a great deal happier if every man and woman and boy and girl who speaks the truth, would always speak it kindly and courteously; and if every one who is truly polite would always be thoroughly truthful? When that time comes, no one will ever think of making such a strange remark as my second friend did yesterday—“She is not deceitful enough to be decent.” MRS. T. N. CHASE. ATLANTA, GA. * * * * * RECEIPTS. * * * * * MAINE, $186.92.