distrust of its members grow with sad rapidity.

Girls, girls everywhere,--my girls,--do not think I mean to flatter
you! Do not think I mean to praise you more highly than I ought! I
simply want you to know your own capabilities, and to realize that
much, very much, depends upon every one of you. How much there is for
you to do! You are frank and honest now, or ought to be; you have not
learned to imitate the falseness of so-called proprieties. It is fully
possible to keep young, genuine, girlish even, and at the same time
to be womanly. The world is not sunshiny enough; there are too many
November days in the year: bring fairer weather and fresh June mornings.

You are not awkward, even if you have not learned just how to be
graceful; you are not useless, though you have not yet acquired all
the knowledge of the kitchen, laundry, and sewing-room; nor are you
unprofitable because you do not now earn the so many dollars a week
you will sometime gain. There is large hope of you, even when you forget
yourselves in the use of fashionable slang, because your minds and
hearts are open to receive kind warnings, and to learn to despise such
terms as mar the beauty of easy, delicate speech.

You want courage and physical strength outside of your lively
affections. You want wisdom and long training in the use of books.
You need to be occupied, to be active in brain and heart and hand;
busied even with more than the duties assigned you; occupied in times
of rest as well as in times of labor.

You should see more and feel no less. Indeed, the power of observation
is most cultivating and most easily developed.