Then, again, there was a difference in the kinds of enjoyment with which the two sets of people enjoyed their conversations; that of the last being infinitely higher. “How charming!” “Now, isn’t that grand!” “What a beautiful idea!” they exclaimed, now and then, as some heart-stirring passage was repeated. The face of each listener or speaker would light up with pleasure; and the eyes would tell that her very soul was enjoying itself. I could but remember, then, Adeline, Fennel Payne’s wife, who was blamed by some of the circle for “sitting down to read in the daytime;” as if daytime were only made for rolling out pastry, sewing dresses, and the like. And when that tea-table talk ran on flowers and birds, woods, waters, glorious sunsets, and all the wonderful “out-doors,” I again remembered Fennel Payne and Adeline, and how they had been ridiculed for “taking walks,” and “sitting down upon the hill.” The ridicule, I thought, and still think, should be turned the other way. They are the ones to be ridiculed, who shut themselves in behind lath and plaster, and there scrub, sew, and cook, cook, sew, and scrub, scarcely noticing the wondrous show which each season, in turn, prepares for them. Flowers may bloom, trees may wave, brooks may ripple, the whole earth blossom into beauty; but they take no heed. It really does seem like slighting the gifts which God has bestowed. There is much to admire and to reverence in these women of Tweenit. They are, generally speaking, just as bright and just as good as my friends at Piper’s Mills. The point is, that they do not, or the majority of them do not, like those friends of mine, get the _best_ out of life. Their energies are spent chiefly on physical, not mental needs. Their talk is trivial. Nature is almost a dead loss to them. While others are enjoying, through books, communion with the noblest minds, they are taken up with the petty concerns of their neighbors. While others seek for knowledge worth the knowing, they are satisfied to learn that some “Mis Susan” or other has “swapped shawls.” And what is true of Tweenit is pretty likely to be true of other places. Then there is another class, not yet considered, the butterfly class, who give their attention chiefly to plumage. Ah, there must be a vast company of women, a multitude whom no man can number, who pick up pebbles, and leave the diamonds! [Illustration] How is it with the “men-folks,” in this respect? VII. KINDLING-WOOD. “Listeners never hear any good of themselves.” It is really unfair, however, to rank myself in so unworthy a class. No mean listener I, but an earnest inquirer, seeking light on any and every branch of domestic science.