At _school_, again, how many “open doors” are there for doing little courtesies to mistresses and schoolfellows, and for aiding to maintain the peace and harmony both in class-room and playground by a gentle look or word, and for the “soft answer which turneth away wrath,” and stays the rising quarrel. The girl who will be most beloved, and who will have the best influence in a school, is undoubtedly she who is ever ready with a pleasant smile to play with the little ones, to say a kind word to another when in trouble, and who shows by her whole behaviour that she wishes to make those around her happy and comfortable. Then on those days of discouragement, when, in spite of all endeavours, the lessons are not well known, and it seems useless to go on trying to do as well as the other girls, or when, perchance, unmerited blame or irritating teasing has unnerved and tired you, how you welcome the friend who, without being told, knows how “wrong everything is going,” and with gentle loving words strives to cheer you, and bids you take heart again and bravely return to the fight. If we look at the reverse of the picture and contemplate the discourteous girl, be it at home or at school, we cannot fail to observe how many opportunities she loses of giving pleasure. She may come down to breakfast, and just mutter a “Good morning” and omit the morning kiss; during the day she may never notice how often she might fetch something for her mother or mistress, jump up or open the door for somebody with their hands full, or try to subdue her loud boisterous laughing or talking in a room where others are busy reading or writing—she will also pass in and out of a door in front of her elders, pay little attention to the wants of her neighbours at table; in short, she will not increase in any way the pleasantness of her surroundings. A word of warning, too, must be given to those girls who, with the best of intentions to try and do right and help others, make the mistake through their very excess of zeal of directing or correcting others in a rough, brusque way, and perhaps enforce their words by a not too gentle push or shove! These must read La Fontaine’s fable of _Phoebus and Boreas_, or _The Sun and the Northwind_, and see how the north wind, for all his violent blowing, could not divest the traveller of his cloak, whereas the sun by the influence of his gentle warming rays soon accomplished that in which the rough blasts of Boreas had failed. And if they follow the teaching of this fable, they will soon see how much more the gentle word accomplishes than the rough one.