SPARE MOMENTS.
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pare moments are the gold-dust of time!" Like a chime of silver bells those words ring in our ears as we hover about thee, gentle-hearted Mabel,—violet that perfumes all the house!—and watch thee, and marvel at thee, day after day. Marvel at the spirit of accomplishing that seems thy helpful, yet unobtrusive attendant; at the soundless motions of that invisible but inseparable companion, as she walks by thy side, and lends her cunning to thy hands, and infuses her spirit of achieving into thy brain.
Our Mabel is never fussy, never bustling, never hurried. She never flies, with a whirlwind rush, from occupation to occupation, and creates a tornado-like atmosphere around her. She never goes pantingly about, her quickened breath and hastened step giving the impression that she is driven by the whip of some pursuing, inexorable Duty. In short, she never seems oppressively busy. You never hear from her pleasant lips the ejaculation, "so much to do!" as an excuse for neglecting this or that matter which ought to have received
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