As Mrs. Wayne and her daughter sat at their window they saw a carriage dash by containing a handsomely dressed woman. Shortly after a very pretty girl passed the house, talking busily with a boy of her own age.

“How funny some mothers are,” said Helen. “That was Mrs. Eversman who rode by just now, and that’s Corrinne, her daughter. Mrs. Eversman pays no attention to Corrinne except to buy her pretty clothes, and scold her for carelessness. Corrinne goes where she pleases. She has lots of beaux, and when they call she won’t let her mother come into the parlor, she says she doesn’t want her ‘snooping’ around, and Mrs. Eversman only laughs. She seems to think it smart. And, mother, Corrinne has such lovely presents from boys and young men. And when she goes to the theatre with a young man, she insists on having a carriage and flowers and a supper afterward. She says no fellow need come around her unless he has ‘the spondulics,’ she calls money.”

“Poor child!” said Mrs. Wayne thoughtfully. “How little she understands the purpose of life!”

“But she says she wants to have a good time,” urged Helen.

“Surely,” was Mrs. Wayne’s reply. “Every girl is entitled to a good time, but that does not of necessity consist of spending money. I should think she wouldn’t like to be under such obligations to young men.”

“O, I guess she doesn’t think she is under obligations. She thinks they are under obligation to her for condescending to go with them. But, mother, ought a girl let a young man spend money on her?”

“I hope, my dear, when you are old enough to go out with young men that you will care too much for yourself to be willing to take expensive gifts. A certain amount of expenditure is allowable. A few flowers, a book, or a piece of music, but never elegant jewelry or articles of clothing. That is not only bad taste but it is often a direct incentive for young men of small salaries to be dishonest. Corrinne, and girls like her, do not know how much they may be responsible for young men becoming untrue to their business trusts, nor how much they might do to strengthen young men in their purposes to be honest. You remember Aunt Elsie and Uncle Harold. He is a man of means now, but he was once a poor young clerk. He admired Elsie and wanted to show her every attention, but she knew his salary would not permit extravagance; so when he first asked her to go to some public entertainment, he said he would come with a carriage at the appointed time. At once she said decidedly, ’Then I will not go. It is not far. If it is a fine night, we can walk. If it rains, we can go on the street cars. You may send me a few flowers, but we will not have an opera supper nor indulge in needless carriages!’ Of course he objected, and urged that he could afford it. ‘But I can’t,’ was her reply. And years after, when they were married, he confessed that it was a great relief to him to be able to take her about in ways that suited his purse and yet have no fear of being thought mean. Now he can buy her everything her heart can desire; but he acknowledges that he might not have been able to withstand the temptation had she in her younger days desired pleasures beyond his power honorably to provide.”

“Mother,” said Helen after a pause, as two girls passed the house with their arms about each other’s waists. “Don’t you think it silly for girls to be so ’spooney’?”

“I certainly think it is in bad taste for them to be so publicly demonstrative, and I could wish that girls might be friends with each other more as boys are. Now, there are Paul and Winfield. Surely no girls ever thought more of each other than these two boys, and yet I fancy we would smile to see them embracing each other on all occasions, as Lucy and Nellie do.”

“I should say so! I’ve heard Paul say, ‘Old Chap,’ or seen Winfield give Paul a slap on the shoulder; but they are never silly and they’ve been friends for years. But Lucy and Nellie have only been so ‘thick’ for a few weeks, and they’ll fall out pretty soon. Lucy is always having such lover-like friends and then quarreling with them. Now, she and Nellie are going to have a mock wedding next week. They call themselves husband and wife even now, isn’t that silly?”

“It is worse than silly, I call it wrong,” replied Mrs. Wayne. “Such morbid friendships are dangerous, both to health and morals.”

“To the health, mother? I don’t see how that can be.”

“No, I doubt if you can, but I hope that you will believe me when I tell you they are dangerous. When girls are so demonstrative, when they claim to stand to each other as man and woman, you may feel assured that the relation is unnatural and that the drain upon the nervous system is very great. I once knew a girl who actually destroyed the health of a number of girls in a school by such demonstrative friendships. She always had one devoted friend who could not live without her. I have known a girl to cry day after day and actually go home sick, because her friendship with this girl was threatened. And it is said that another girl took her own life from jealousy of this one.

“Friendship is a grand thing when it is true and worthy, but a morbid, unnatural sentimentality does not deserve the name of friendship and I should be very sorry to see you fall into the toils of a morbid, unnatural relation with another girl. Yet I should be pleased to see you having a sincere, womanly, noble affection for another girl, one which would not waste itself in sentimentality but be able to rise to heights of grand renunciation.”

“I think I understand you, mother, and I promise you I will try to hold the highest ideals of friendship.”

Such talks as these brought mother and daughter into such close companionship that Helen was not afraid to bring her mother the deepest problems of her young life.

It was Saturday afternoon, and mother and daughter were sitting together sewing. The rain was pouring, so that there was little fear of visitors, and while Mrs. Wayne was discussing with herself how she could begin to talk to her daughter of her approaching womanhood, Helen suddenly said, “Mother, what is the matter with Clara Downs? She is going into consumption, they say, and I heard Sadie Barker say to Cora Lee that it was because Clara did not change into a woman. What did she mean? I thought we just grew into women. Isn’t that the way?”

“You didn’t ask Sadie what she meant?”

“O, no, the girls acted as if they didn’t want me to hear, and then, I’d always rather you’d tell me things, for then I feel sure that I know them right.”

This little testimony of her trust in her mother furnished Mrs. Wayne with the desired opportunity, and she said, “In order that you may clearly understand Sadie’s remark I shall have to make a long explanation of how girls become women.”

“Why, mother, don’t we just grow into women?”

“Well, my dear, I shall have to say both yes and no to that question. Girls do grow and become women, but women are something more than grown-up girls. This house is much bigger than it was two years ago. Did it just grow bigger?”

“Why, no, not exactly. There are no more rooms now than there were before, but some rooms have been finished off and are used now, when before they weren’t used at all, and so the house seems bigger. But it can’t be that way with our bodies, for we don’t have any new organs added or finished off to make us women?”

“That is just what is done, my daughter.”

“What! New organs added, mother? What can you mean?”

“I mean, dear, that your bodily dwelling is enlarged, not by the addition of new rooms, but by the completing of rooms that have as yet not been fitted up for use.”

“I don’t understand you, mother.”

“I suppose not, but I hope to be able to make you understand. You have studied your bodily house and know of the rooms in the different stories, the kitchen, laundry, dining-room, picture-gallery and telegraph office, in fact, all the rooms or organs that keep you alive; but there is one part of the house that you have not studied. There are various rooms or organs which are not needed to keep you alive, and which have, therefore, been closed. As you approach womanhood, these organs will wake up and become active, and their activity is what will make you a woman.”

“Why, mother, it sounds like a fairy story, a tale of a wonderful magic palace, doesn’t it? And Clara Downs hasn’t got these marvelous rooms?”

“Yes, they are there, but they are evidently not being finished off for use. I think, however, the girls made the mistake of confounding cause and effect. They say she is going into consumption because she does not become a woman. I think she does not become a woman because she is going into consumption. Do you know why we did not finish off these rooms in our house sooner?”

“Why, father said he had not the money.”

“That is right. He did not say that he did not have the money because he did not finish off the rooms.”

“My, no, that would have been absurd; but I don’t see how that applies to Clara?”

“It needed money to finish off our house; so it needs vitality to change from girl to woman, and Clara seems not to have the vitality. She is failing in health, hence she has not vital force to spend in completing her physical development.”

“But, mother, tell me more about this wonderful change. Where are the new rooms and what is their purpose? I can’t really believe that I have some bodily organs that I never heard of. What are they and where are they; when will they be finished off? I am all curiosity. Didn’t we study about them in our school physiology?”

“You have given me a good many questions to answer, little girl, and I hardly know where to begin answering them.

“In your school physiology you studied all about the organs that keep you alive. What did you learn about your bodily house? How many stories is it?”

“Three stories high, and then there is a cupola on the top of all. I like to think of the head as a cupola or observatory, resting on the tower of the neck and turning from side to side as we want to look around us.”

“And what is the furniture in the different stories?”

“O, the upper story is called the thorax, and the one big room in it is the thoracic cavity. It contains the heart and lungs. The next story below is the abdominal cavity and it has a number of articles of furniture, the liver, the stomach, the spleen, the bowels, etc. Then the lower story is O, I’ve forgotten what it is called.”

“The lower story is called the pelvis.”

“O, yes, and the pelvic cavity contains the reservoirs for waste material. I remember you told me that once.”

“That is right. The pelvic cavity contains the bladder, which is the reservoir for waste fluid, and the rectum, the outlet for waste solids. But it contains more than these. It is here in the pelvis that these organs of which you have not heard are located. You remember when you asked me about yourself and how you came into the world I told you of a little room in mother’s body where you lived and grew until you were large enough to live your own independent existence. Did you ever wonder where this room is?”

“Why, I never thought much about it. I guess I just thought it was in the abdominal cavity. Isn’t it?”

“No, the room is a little sac that lies here in the pelvis. I can best explain it to you by a picture. Here it is. You see it looks like a pear hanging with the small end down. It lies just between the bladder and the rectum, and a passage leads up to it.”

“O, I see. Doesn’t the bladder empty itself through that passage?”

“No, the outlet to the bladder is just at the very entrance to this passage, but does not open into the passage at all. This passage is called the vagina, and the little room has two names. One is Latin, uterus; the other is Saxon, womb it means the place where things are brought to life. The Latin word is used by scientists, but the Saxon word is used in the Bible and by poets. Do you remember when Nicodemus came to Jesus that he was told he must be born again, and he said in surprise, ’Can a man enter the second time into his mother’s womb and be born?’”

“O, I see now what he meant. I could not understand it before. Of course, he knew that was impossible, and so he could not see what Jesus meant.”

“David says, ’Thou hast covered me in my mother’s womb. I will praise thee, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.’ Poets sometimes speak of the womb of the morning, meaning the place where morning lies and grows until it is ready to burst forth in beauty on the world.”

“I like the Saxon word better than the Latin one, don’t you?”

“Yes, but as scientists use the Latin word we shall use that, so that we will know how to talk on these subjects scientifically. The uterus hangs suspended by two broad ligaments (marked ll in the picture). There are also round ligaments from the back and front which hold it loosely in place. On the back of each broad ligament is an oval body called the ovary (marked o).

“Do you remember once seeing in a hen that Ellen was preparing for dinner a great number of eggs of all sizes? That was the hen’s ovary. Ovum means an egg, and ovary means the place of the eggs.”

“O, mother, women don’t have eggs, do they? I don’t like that.”

“Well, if you do not like to use the word egg we can say ovum, which, you know, is the Latin word for egg. The plural is ova. Or we may call the ovum the germ, which means the primary source. The ovum or germ is a very tiny thing, so small that it cannot be seen without a microscope; 240 laid side by side would make only one inch in length.”

“O, mother, that is wonderful.”

“Yes, dear. The whole process of life is very wonderful and very beautiful. The uterus and ovaries belong to what is called the reproductive system. As I said, until now your vital forces have been employed in keeping you alive. Your nutritive system, your muscular system, your nervous system and so on, have all been busy taking care of you only; but soon your reproductive system will awaken and begin to take on activity.”

“And what does that mean, mother?”

“It means that you are entering on what is known as the maternal period of your life; are actually becoming a woman with all a woman’s power of becoming a mother.”

“But you don’t mean that a girl of fourteen could become a mother?”

“Yes, it might be possible; but no girl of fourteen should be a mother, for she is not fully developed and her children will not be strong as if she had not married until after she were twenty.”

“But tell me, mother, all about it. I don’t see now how the baby grows?”

“Well, I was showing you the ovary in which are many ova. As the girl nears the age of fourteen, these ova start to grow and once a month one ripens and is thrown out of the ovary. It is taken up by the Fallopian tube, marked öd in the picture, and it passes down the tube into the uterus and through the vagina out into the world.”

“Can one tell when it passes?”

“No, but there is a sign that this change has taken place. The uterus is lined with a membrane in which are many blood vessels, and when the girl has reached this stage of development and becomes a woman, the vessels become very full of blood, so full that it oozes out through the walls of the blood vessels into the cavity of the uterus, and when it passes out of the vagina the girl becomes aware of it and knows that she has become a woman.

“This process takes place once a month and is called menstruation, from the Latin mensum, a month.”

“Isn’t it painful, mother?”

“It ought not to be and is not, if the girl is perfectly well. But sometimes girls have dressed improperly and have displaced their internal organs, or they have exhausted themselves with pleasure-seeking, or in some other way have injured themselves, in which case they may suffer much pain. When girls get about this age mothers are very anxious about them, very desirous that they shall naturally and easily step over into the land of womanhood.”

“I should think that girls ought to be taught about themselves, so that they would not do the things which injure them.”

“I think they should, and that is why I am telling you all this to-day so that when the change comes to you, you will not be frightened and maybe do something from which you will suffer all your life long, as many girls have done.

“The question of tight clothing becomes now much more important than ever before. You can see at once that the restriction of the clothing comes just over the part of the body where there is the least resistance.”

“Oh, yes, I remember about the seven upper ribs, that are fastened to both spine and breast-bone; and the five lower ribs, that are fastened directly only to the spine and are attached in front to the breast-bone by cartilage; and the two floating ribs, lowest of all, and fastened only to the spine. I have often wondered why the important organs of the abdominal cavity should not have been better protected.”

“It was needful to leave the front of the body covered only with muscular structure, or it could not be bent and twisted about as we can now bend it, and that would have hindered our activity. Just imagine yourself going about encased in bone from your shoulders to your hips.”

Helen laughed merrily. “I shouldn’t like it,” she said, “but that is just what is done by the corset, and folks get used to that.”

“Yes, they become accustomed to the pressure because the nerves lose their sensitiveness and no longer report their discomfort to the brain; but the injury continues, nevertheless.”

“Mother, I wish you’d tell me just how tight clothing is injurious. So many of the girls laugh at me because I don’t wear a corset, and they declare it does not hurt them. They all say they wear their clothes perfectly loose and they think they prove it by showing me how they can run their fists up under their dress waists.”

“Certainly, that can be done even with a very tight dress, by just pressing a little more air out of the lungs; but that is not a true measurement. To learn if the dress is tight, one should unfasten all of the clothing, draw in the breath slowly until the lungs are filled to their utmost capacity. Then, while the lungs are held full, see if the clothing can be fastened without allowing any air to escape. If it can, then it is not tight; but if the lungs must be compressed, ever so little, in order to allow the clothing to be fastened, it is too tight. You see, the power we have to breathe is the measure of our power to do, and to lessen our breathing capacity is to lessen our ability in all directions.

“I saw a statement yesterday that will interest you. It was a recital of an experiment made by Dr. Sargent on twelve girls in running 540 yards in 2 minutes 30 seconds. The first time they ran without corsets and their waists measured 25 inches. The pulse was counted before running and found to beat 84 times a minute. Again, it was counted after running and found to have risen to 152. The second run was made in the same length of time, but with corsets on, which reduced the waist measure to 24 inches. Pulse before running 84; after running 168, showing the extra effort the heart was obliged to make because of the restriction of the waist and consequent lessening of the breathing power. He also found that the corset reduced the breathing capacity one-fifth.

“Let me read you another little item:

“’Dr. Dickenson has been studying the pressure of the corset. He says that in the ordinary breathing we have to overcome in the resistance and elasticity of chest and lungs a force of 170 pounds. If the woman whose waist measure is 27 inches wears a corset of the same size, so that her waist is not compressed at all, there is added a force of 40 pounds. If her natural waist measure is 27 inches and is reduced by the corset to 25-1/2 inches, the pressure is 73 pounds.’

“When Dr. Lucy Hall was physician at Vassar College, she made some observations as to the mental powers manifested by those who wore and those who did not wear corsets. In a graduating class in which there were thirty-five girls, nineteen wore no corsets; eighteen members of the class took honors, and of these thirteen wore no corsets; seven of the class were appointed to take part in public on Commencement Day, and six of these wore no corsets. All who took prizes for essays wore no corsets; five girls were class-day orators, and four of these wore no corsets; five had not missed a day in four years, and one had not missed a day in six years. That speaks pretty loudly in favor of doing without corsets, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, indeed; but some of the girls care more for looks than for class honors. They say a girl looks so queer without a corset.”

“That is because we have set up false standards of beauty. If we examine the finest statuary of all ages, we shall not find a single figure that has been accustomed to tight clothing. The artist copies God’s ideal figure of the woman, not that of the fashion plate. You see, we have become so accustomed to the deformed figure that we call it beautiful, just as the Chinese woman thinks her deformed foot is beautiful.”

“O, isn’t it dreadful that the Chinese bind up the feet of the little girls as they do?”

“It certainly is; but not as dreadful as that Christian women bind up the vital parts of the body and prevent their working as they should. One can live without feet, but one could not live without heart and lungs and other vital organs, and can only half live when these organs are cramped and crowded together so they cannot work properly. If we were all truly artistic we would be pained at the sight of the small waist, for we should know that it was procured at the expense of the vital organs. You have heard of the statue of the Venus de Medici, renowned as being the most beautiful representation of a woman’s figure?”

“O, yes, I have seen pictures of it.”

“A certain English actress was called a model of loveliness in form and feature. Some one has made a comparison between the two. Here are the pictures and measurements:

“You see how graceful the curves of the Venus (Fi, how abrupt those of the actress (Fi, and yet to most people her figure looks the more elegant. But I want to call your attention to the fact that to create her figure is really to lose much space, and to crowd together the important vital organs until their working power is greatly hindered. This same actress has become enlightened and now says: ’Of course, no woman can breathe properly in a tightly-laced corset. I am horrified when I think of the way I used to compress my waist, and look back at the pictures showing my hour-glass figure with positive amazement.’

“Don’t you think it strange that we never want little rooms with furniture huddled close together, except in our bodily dwellings? The Divine Architect has given us grand apartments, with all the machinery harmoniously related, and we think we improve things by putting everything into the closest possible quarters and disturbing the harmony! But the damage is not done to the heart and lungs alone. The liver is crowded out of place until it sometimes reaches clear across the abdomen and is creased with ruts from the pressure of the ribs upon it. The stomach is also pressed out of place. It belongs close up under the diaphragm, but it is crowded by the pressure down until it lies in the abdominal cavity, as low down, sometimes, as the umbilicus, six or eight inches below where it belongs.”

“O, mother, that seems awful.”

“It is awful, my dear, because the body is created to do certain work, and to do that work well, its laws should be regarded. We would not think of interfering with the works of a watch or a piano, because they are valuable, but we do not hesitate to interfere with the more valuable organs of our bodies, and we do not even think that we are offering an insult to the Creator.

“But I have not told you yet of the evil effects in the displacement of the bowels. Do you remember how many feet of intestines there are in the body?”

“About twenty feet of small and about four feet of large intestines.”

“And how are they held in place?”

“Why, I don’t just remember.”

“The small intestines are encased in a membrane called the mesentery. It is just as if I folded this strip of cloth in the middle lengthwise and put my finger inside of the fold. The small intestines lie in the middle fold of the mesentery, and the edges of the mesentery are gathered up like a ruffle and fastened to the spine in a space of about six inches, leaving it to flare out like a very full ruffle. In this way, you see, the intestines are left free, and yet cannot tie themselves in knots as they might if but laid loosely in the abdominal cavity.

“If the waist is constricted above them, they sink down and pull on this attachment, and that often causes backache and inability to stand or walk with comfort. It may also press the reproductive organs out of place, and so cause much pain and suffering at menstruation.

“I am of the opinion that women were not intended to be invalids in any degree because of their womanhood; and very likely there would be much less flow at menstrual periods if women and girls lived in accordance with Nature’s laws.”

“But, mother, you have not told me what this blood is for. It seems as if it would not be necessary for women to go through such an experience every month.”

“Perhaps we do not fully know why it should be so, but we do know when the little child is growing in its little room, the mother does not have the menstrual flow; so we may suppose that it goes to nourish the child.”

“O, I see, and when not needed for the child, it just passes away.”

“Yes, and every time this occurs it says to the woman that she is a perfect woman, capable of all the duties of the wife and mother. This thought should make her think very sacredly of herself.”

For a few moments there was silence between mother and daughter, broken only by the sound of the falling rain. At length Helen spoke. “Mother, there is something I want to ask you about. You remember last summer, when Mrs. Vale and Mrs. Odell called on you, I was in the library and they did not see me. While they were waiting for you they began to talk of Edith Chenowyth and of something dreadful she had been doing. They called her a very bad girl. When you came in they spoke to you about her and you said ‘Poor child, I am sorry for her;’ and they were quite angry that you should pity her. Just before they left I made some slight noise, and Mrs. Vale said, ‘I hope no one heard what we’ve said,’ and you said, ‘I hope not, I am sure.’ So I thought you would not want me to know of it or I should have asked you about what it all meant.

“Yesterday I heard some of the girls talking and one said, ’Did you know that Edith Chenowyth had a baby last night? She is down at old Mrs. Fein’s. Her folks have turned her out of the house.’ Then Clara Downs said, ‘Well, they ought to turn her out, acting as she has.’ Then they all said such dreadful things of her! And while they were talking, Cora Lee came up and said, ’O, girls, I am an Auntie! My sister Ada had the loveliest baby boy last night and my father gave her $500 because it is his first grandson; and the baby’s father opened a bank account in the name of Charles Wyndham Bell. Ada is just as happy as she can be and we are all so proud.’

“Now, mother, Ada Lee and Edith Chenowyth were in the same class at school; they sang a duet together on the day of their graduation and Edith was just as lovely as Ada. Now she has a baby and every one scorns her, while Ada has one and she is honored and loved. I wish you’d explain this to me.”

“Well, my daughter, you see Ada is married and Edith is not.”

“Yes, I know that; and yet that does not explain to me why a child should be an honor to one and a disgrace to the other. I know people think so, but I want to know why.”

“In order to make you understand why, I shall have to take you back to your lessons in botany. You recall how you learned there of the reproduction of plants. You learned that the pollen must pass down the style and fertilize the seed before it would grow; and you learned that the stamen, anther and pollen were the male part of the plant and the ovary, style and stigma the female part of the plant.”

“Yes, and I remember that I thought it rather silly that in a school book the plants should be spoken of as people, as if it were a fairy story.”

“And yet, my dear, it was only stating an actual fact, and was not, as you fancied, a fairy story. There are really fathers and mothers among plants; if there were not there could be no new plant life. In some plants the male and female are united in the same flower; in other plants there are male and female flowers, but all growing on the same plant. In a third species all the flowers of one plant will be male, and all of another plant will be female. The fertilization of plants is very interesting, for the insects and the bees and the breezes often carry the pollen of the male flowers to the female flowers, and so the seeds are fertilized.

“When we come to study reproduction among the human race, we find the same plan; in fact, we find it in all forms of organized life, plants, animals and man. That is, there must be fathers as well as mothers.

“I told you of the germ or ovum that is produced by the ovary of the woman. That ovum of itself could never become a new being. It must be united with a life-giving principle furnished by the man. This principle consists of a fluid in which float tiny little creatures called spermatozoa one is a spermatozoon. Here is a picture of some. They are too small to be seen without the aid of a microscope. They are about 1/500 of an inch long, that is, 500 of them laid end to end, would cover only an inch in length.

“If an ovum starts from the ovary and is not hindered, it will pass on through the uterus and the vagina into the world, and that is the end of it; but if, when the ovum starts from the ovary to make its way through the tube, the spermatozoa are deposited here at the mouth of the uterus, they will find their way up into the cavity, and if one meets an ovum and enters into it, a new life is begun. The ovum will now fasten itself to the walls of the uterus and grow into the little child.

“You can understand that, for the spermatozoa to be placed where they can find their way into the uterus, means a very close and familiar relation of the man and woman.

“When two people have decided that they love each other so well that they are willing to leave all friends and ties of home, and in the presence of witnesses promise to live together always, and a clergymen has conducted a solemn ceremony and pronounced them husband and wife, it is perfectly proper for them to do what before would not have been proper.

“They may go and live in a house by themselves, occupy the same room, bear the same name and be, in the eyes of the community, as one person.

“If they desire to call into life a little child of their own, it is fully in accordance with the laws of God and man, and no one can criticise them. They have violated no ideas of purity or propriety. But you can understand that if an unmarried woman has a child, every one knows that she has had, with some man, an intimate relation to which they had no right, either moral or legal. They have sacrificed modesty and purity, and the child is a badge of disgrace, rather than of honor.”

“Isn’t it just as much of a disgrace to him as to her?”

“Yes, dear, I think it is, and so do many of the best people; but, unfortunately, there are many who do not think so, and blame the woman or girl altogether. And the man, very likely, does not blame himself. He says, ‘Well, she ought not to have permitted it,’ and so he gets out of the way and leaves her to bear the shame alone. It is a cowardly thing to do, for in all probability he was the one who made the first advances and, had she been wise, she would have shunned the man who tried to lead her into wrong, into doing that which would forfeit her self-respect and the respect of the world. Even the man scorns the woman whom he leads into disgrace.”

“I suppose girls don’t understand it, do they? Now, I did not understand, until just now as you have told me about it, and I believe lots of the girls are going into danger and don’t know it. I must tell you something. Yesterday as I was walking home from school with Belle Dane you know her, don’t you? Isn’t she pretty?”

“Yes, she is pretty, and I should imagine pert also. She has no mother.”

“Well, as we were walking along, a young man passed us. Belle smiled and bowed, and he bowed too. I said, ‘Who is that?’ She said, ’I don’t know, but isn’t he handsome? I shouldn’t wonder if he’d turn back and walk with us!’ And sure enough, in a moment he was walking at her side, saying, ‘What a lovely day? Do you walk here every day?’ and she said, ‘Yes, as I go from school. On Saturdays I walk by the lake.’

“‘Ah,’ he said, ’I am thinking of walking there to-morrow. At what hour do you walk?’ ‘About 4 o’clock,’ she said. Then he looked at me. ’Does your friend walk there, too? I have a friend who’d be glad to come.’ Then I broke in ’No, I never walk by the lake.’ Then he bowed and left, and Belle said, ’O, you little goose! Why did you say you didn’t walk by the lake? He’d have brought his friend and we’d have had such a good time. Ten to one he’ll bring flowers or candy, and we could take a boat ride. You were foolish.’ And I said, ’I don’t want to walk with young men, especially if I don’t know them.’ And she laughed and said, ’O, you’ll get over that when you’re older and learn what fun it is. My, he’s a gentleman! See how nice he dressed and what pretty teeth he had and what nice words he used.’ Now, I thought maybe I was silly, but after what you have told me to-day, I think she is going in dangerous places and maybe don’t know it. I am so glad you told me.”

“Yes, poor child! It was just so that Edith began. She met a handsome young man. She thought him a gentleman because he dressed fine. She let him hold her hand, then put his arm around her and kiss her, and so, little by little, he led her on, and she thought it was all so nice, and now she is friendless and in great trouble.”

“Mother, it makes me think of a little girl I saw at the seaside last summer. She was dancing on the edge of the waves. They came up and washed over her little pink toes and she laughed with delight. After a time the tide rose a little higher and the waves dashed over her feet and still she thought it fun; and then came one big wave and threw her down and carried her out to sea, and if there hadn’t been some sailors right there with a boat she would have been drowned, and all the time she thought it fun till the last wave came, and then she was frightened awfully.”

“Your illustration is a very good one, my daughter, and I fear that poor Belle is dancing in the gentle foam of a wave that will grow in power till it carries her out to sea, a lost girl.”

“Mother, I really don’t see how a girl can let a man become so familiar with her. I should think it would disgust her at once; and yet Edith seemed like a perfect lady.”

“No doubt you will understand this puzzling matter better after a few years than you do now, but I can explain it to you partly. It is a part of human nature that men and women are very attractive to each other, and in a way that does not exist between men and men or women and women. It may be called a sort of personal magnetism. As they begin to develop into men and women, they begin to feel this new attraction. They want to please each other. New feelings and emotions are felt. If their hands touch, they feel a sort of electric thrill, even the glance of the eye may cause the same thrill. They enjoy it, and they do not know what it means. They do not know that, while it is pleasant, it is also dangerous.

“Girls are more ignorant than young men, because, as a rule, they have been taught less. The young men know more, but in all probability they have not learned from sources that are pure. The young girl does not understand that her coquettish glances and tossings of the head and simperings are so many intuitive efforts to awaken that sort of magnetic thrill in the young man. If she knew it, she would see that it is more maidenly to hold in check all actions that would tend to make the young man desire to be familiar with her.”

“But, mother, if it is not right to be familiar, why does God make us with those desires?”

“God has given us many desires that are right under certain conditions and wrong under others and He has given us reason with which to control our desires. It is right to eat when the food is our own, but wrong to eat if we have stolen the food. It is right to enjoy the attraction of one to whom our heart and life is given, but otherwise we are defrauding some one else. You can understand that you would not want the man you are to marry to have had familiarities with many other girls, neither would he like to think that other men had been permitted to be free with you.

“If you were going to select a dress that was to last all your life long, you would not choose goods that had been handled and were shop-worn. Even so with husband and wife. Each likes to feel sure that the freshest, purest love of the heart and modesty of person has been kept unstained from the slightest unwarrantable familiarity.”