I didn't rise. All the others did--stood on their feet, just like he
asked. None tried their heads. I was the only one that sat, and when he
saw me, his sunk eye almost rolled out, and his good eye stared at me in
such astonishment that I laughed out loud. I couldn't help it, I truly
couldn't.

I'm not thankful for everything, and that's why I didn't stand up. Can
you be thankful for toothache, or stomachache, or any kind of ache? You
cannot. And not meant to be, either.

The room got awful still, and then presently he said:

"Mary Cary"--his voice was worse than his eye--"Mary Cary, do you mean
to say you have not a thankful heart?" And he pointed his finger at me
like I was the Jezebel lady come to life.

I didn't answer, thinking it safer, and he asked again:

"Do I understand, Mary Cary"--and by this time he was real
red-in-the-face mad--"do I understand you are not thankful for all that
comes to you? Do I understand aright?"

"Yes, sir, you understand right," I said, getting up this time. "I am
not thankful for everything in my life. I'd be much thankfuller to have
a Mother and Father on earth than to have them in heaven. And there are
a great many other things I would like different." And down I sat, and
was kept in for telling the truth.

Miss Bray says it was for impertinence (Miss Bray is the Head Chief of
this Institution), but I didn't mean to be impertinent. I truly didn't.