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 not to nag other people who don't think just as you do."

"I hope I have!" said Bess emphatically. "If any one asks me what I think of it, I'll be mighty glad to tell them that I think it's the very best thing that any one knows anything about,—and where he can go to find out what it teaches,—but I'm not going around with a chip on my shoulder labelled 'Christian Science,' nor telling people, gratis, that I think they are making mistakes; but I'm going to mind my own business strictly; and if I mind it so well that I accomplish enough to make any one want to ask me what my recipe is,—well, that will be something."

"It sure will," I said.

Bess got up. "I have to go in now," she said, "and look after my packing."

I picked up the cleat again and began to whittle. That word "packing" made things get gloomy and my mouth taste bad. "Bess," I said, whittling hard, "what would you do if you felt the way I do about your going away?"

"Why, I'd work on it," said Bess.

Work on it? I repeated. "Do you mean