descend upon me, though with my lips I ask not.

_24th._--Had a long talk with Mr. Persico about my style of governing.
He seemed interested in what I had to say about appeals to the
conscience, but said my _youthful enthusiasm_ would get cooled down when
I knew more of the world. I told him, very pertly, that I hoped I should
never know the world then. He laughed and asked, "You expect to make
out of these stupid children such characters, such hearts as yours?"
"No--but better ones." He shook his head and said I had put him into
good humor. I don't know what he meant. I've been acting like Sancho
to-day--rushing up stairs two at a time, frisking about, catching up
Miss J---- in all her maiden dignity and tossing her right into the
midst of our bed. Who's going to be "schoolma'am" out of school? Not I!
I mean to be just as funny as I please, and what's more I'll make Miss
---- funny, too,--that I will! She'd have so much more health--Christian
health, I mean--if she would leave off trying to get to heaven in such a
dreadful bad "way." I can't think _religion_ makes such a long, gloomy
face. It must be that she is wrong, or else I am. I wonder which? Why
it's all sunshine to me--and all clouds to her! Poor Miss ----, you
might be so happy!

_April 9th._--Holiday. We all took a long walk, which I enjoyed highly.
I was in a half moralising mood all the way, wanted to be by myself very
much. We talked more than usual about home and I grew so sad. Oh, I
wonder if anybody loves me as _I love_! I wonder! I long for mother, and
if I could just see her and know that she is happy and that she will be
well again! It is really a curious question with me, whether provided
I ever fall in love (for I'll _fall_ in love, else not go in at all) I
shall leave off loving mother best of anybody in the world? I suppose I
shall be in love sometime or other, but that's nothing to do with me now