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Crowley, Mary Catherine

"Apples, Ripe and Rosy, Sir"

The adjective was ludicrously inappropriate, but she
understood Bernard's meaning, and appreciated his feelings as he went on:
"Yes, I'll never let anybody say a word against him in my hearing after
this, and I'll declare I have proof positive that he's no miser."
"He is a noble-hearted man certainly," said Mrs. Farrell. "I wish we
knew more about him. But, for one thing, Bernard, this experience has
taught us to beware of rash judgments; to look for the jewels, not the
flaws, in the character of our neighbor."
"Yes, indeed, mother," replied the youth, decidedly. "You may be sure
that in future I'll try to see what is best in everyone."
The next morning Mrs. Farrell went about her work in a more hopeful mood.
Bernard started for the office in better spirits than usual, humming
snatches of a song, a few words of which kept running in his mind all day:
"God rules, and thou shall have more sun
When clouds their perfect work have done."
That afternoon Mr. Crosswell, the head of the firm, who seemed suddenly
to have become aware that something was wrong, said to him:
"My lad, how is it that your mother has not been doing the extra
type-writing lately? I find a great deal of it has been given to some
one else.


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