I, having the weakness of human
vision, must believe where I cannot see. Henceforth, when I am
tempted to complainings and despair on account of the evil around
me, I will say to myself, 'Look deeper, look under the dead leaves,
and you will find flowers.'"
THE FAMILY OF MICHAEL AROUT.
_September 15th, eight o'clock._--This morning, while I was
arranging my books, Mother Genevieve came in, and brought me the
basket of fruit I buy of her every Sunday. For nearly twenty years
that I have lived in this quarter, I have dealt in her little
fruit-shop. Perhaps I should be better served elsewhere, but Mother
Genevieve has but little custom; to leave her would do her harm, and
cause her unnecessary pain. It seems to me that the length of our
acquaintance has made me incur a sort of tacit obligation to her; my
patronage has become her property.
She has put the basket upon my table, and as I wanted her husband,
who is a joiner, to add some shelves to my bookcase, she has gone
down stairs again immediately to send him to me.
At first I did not notice either her looks or the sound of her
voice; but now, that I recall them, it seems to me that she was not
as jovial as usual.
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