"Well," said Bessie, very emphatically, "I think Russell Morton is the
best boy there is, anyhow."
"Why so, pet?" I asked, settling myself in the midst of the busy group
gathered around in the firelight.
"I can tell," interrupted Wilfred, "Bessie likes Russ because he is so
polite."
"I don't care, you may laugh," said frank little Bess; "that _is_ the
reason--at least, one of them. He's nice; he don't stamp and hoot in
the house--and he never says, 'Halloo Bess,' or laughs when I fall on
the ice."
"Bessie wants company manners all the time," said Wilfred. And Bell
added: "We should all act grown up, if she had her fastidiousness
suited."
Bell, be it said in passing, is very fond of long words, and has asked
for a dictionary for her next birthday present.
Dauntless Bessie made haste to retort, "Well, if growing up would make
some folks more agreeable, it's a pity we can't hurry about it."
"Wilfred, what are company manners?" interposed I from the depths of
my easy chair.
"Why--why--they're--It's _behaving_, you know, when folks are here,
or we go a visiting."
"Company manners are good manners," said Horace,
"Oh yes," answered I, meditating on it. "I see; manners that are _too_
good--for mamma--but just right for Mrs. Jones."
"That's it," cried Bess.
"But let us talk it over a bit. Seriously, why should you be more
polite to Mrs. Jones than to mamma? You don't love her better?"
"Oh my! no indeed," chorused the voices.
"Well, then, I don't see why Mrs. Jones should have all that's
agreeable; why the hats should come off, and the tones soften, and
'please,' and 'thank you,' and 'excuse me,' should abound in her
house, and not in mamma's."
"Oh! that's very different."
"And mamma knows we mean all right. Besides, you are not fair, cousin;
we were talking about boys and girls--not grown up people."
Thus my little audience assailed me, and I was forced to a change of
base.
"Well, about boys and girls, then. Can not a boy be just as happy, if,
like our friend Russell, he is gentle to the little girls, doesn't
pitch his little brother in the snow, and respects the rights of his
cousins and intimate friends? It seems to me that politeness is just
as suitable to the playground as to the parlor."
"Oh, of course; if you'd have a fellow give up all fun," said Wilfred.
"My dear boy," said I, "that isn't what I want. Run, and jump, and
shout as much as you please; skate, and slide, and snowball; but do it
with politeness to other boys and girls, and I'll agree you will find
just as much fun in it. You sometimes say I pet Burke Holland more
than any of my child-friends. Can I help it? For though he is lively
and sometimes frolicsome, his manners are always good. You never see
him with his chair tipped up, or his hat on in the house. He never
pushes ahead of you to get first out of the room. If you are going
out, he holds open the door; if weary, it is Burke who brings a glass
of water, places a chair, hands a fan, springs to pick up your
handkerchief--and all this without being told to do so, or
interfering with his own gaiety in the least.
"This attention isn't only given to me as the guest, or to Mrs. Jones
when he visits her, but to mamma, Aunt Jennie, and little sister, just
as carefully; at home, in school, or at play, there is always just as
much guard against rudeness. His courtesy is not merely for state
occasions, but a well-fitting garment worn constantly. His manliness
is genuine loving-kindness. In fact, that is exactly what real
politeness is; carefulness for others, and watchfulness over
ourselves, lest our angles shall interfere with their comfort."
It is impossible for boys and girls to realize, until they have grown
too old to easily adopt new ones, how important it is to guard against
contracting carelessness and awkward habits of speech and manners.
Some very unwisely think it is not necessary to be so very particular
about these things except when company is present. But this is a grave
mistake, for coarseness will betray itself in spite of the most
watchful sentinelship.
It is impossible to indulge in one form of speech, or have one set of
manners at home, and another abroad, because in moments of confusion
or bashfulness, such as every young person feels sometimes who is
sensitive and modest, the habitual mode of expression will discover
itself.
It is not, however, merely because refinement of speech and grace of
manners are pleasing to the sense, that our young friends are
recommended to cultivate and practice them, but because outward
refinement of any sort reacts as it were on the character and makes it
more sweet and gentle and lovable, and these are qualities that
attract and draw about the possessor a host of kind friends. Then
again they increase self-respect.
The very consciousness that one prepossesses and pleases people, makes
most persons feel more respect for themselves, just as the knowledge
of being well dressed makes them feel more respectable. You can see by
this simple example, how every effort persons make toward perfecting
themselves brings some pleasant reward.