A DIALOGUE FOR EXHIBITIONS.

BY JULIA A. FLETCHER.

Sophronia. Come, girls, let us go and have our fortunes told.

Eveline. Oh! I should like it of all things; where shall we go?

Sarah. Let us go to old Kate Merrill's. They say she can read the future as we do the past, by hand, tea-cups, or cards. Come, Mary Ann.

Mary Ann. Excuse me, girls, if I do not go with you. I do not think it is right to have our fortunes told.

Sophronia. Not right? why not?

Mary Ann. Because, if it had been best for us to know the future, I think God would have revealed it to us.

Sarah. Oh, but you know this is only for amusement.

Eveline. Of course, we shall not believe a word she says.

Mary Ann. If it is only for amusement, I think we can find others far more rational and innocent. But depend upon it, girls, you would not wish to go, if there were not in your minds a little of credulous feeling?

Sophronia. Well, I am sure I am not credulous.

Mary Ann. Do not be offended, Sophronia; I only meant that we are all of us more inclined to believe these things than we at first imagine.

Sarah. I think that Mary Ann is right in this respect. I am sure I would not go if I did not think her predictions would come to pass.

Mary Ann. Certainly; I could not suppose you would spend your time and money to hear an old woman tell you things you did not believe.

Eveline. Well, I am sure I do not see any harm in having a little fun once in a while.

Sophronia. No; and I think it is very unkind in Mary Ann to spoil all our pleasures with her whims. She is always preaching to us about giving up our own way for the comfort of others, and I think she ought to give up now, and go with us.

Sarah. Now, really, Sophronia, I think you are the one that is unkind. If Mary Ann is wrong, it is better to convince her of it kindly, and I am sure she will acknowledge it.

Mary Ann. I hope I should be willing to give up a mere whim for the pleasure of those I love so well. But this is not a whim; it is a serious conviction of duty.

Sophronia. Well, I thought you always pretended to be very obliging.

Mary Ann. I have no right to be obliging at the expense of what I deem duty. Our own inclinations we should often sacrifice, our prejudices always, but our sense of duty never.

Eveline. I think, girls, we have done wrong to urge Mary Ann to go, after she had told us her reasons.

Sophronia. Well, then, don't spend any more time in urging her to go, against her will. You know the old proverb "The least said is soonest mended."

Eveline. Well, do not let us go away angry or ill-natured. You asked Mary Ann to say why she thought it was wrong, and we should receive her reasons kindly.

Sarah. So I think; but I wish she would tell us what harm she thinks it would do to go.

Mary Ann. Well, girls, I think, by trying to look into the future, we are apt to grow discontented and restless, and to forget that we have duties to perform in the present. Then, if we do not believe in it, it is a waste of time and money, which might be better employed in relieving the suffering of the poor around us. But the greatest evil of all is, that we should believe even a part; she would of course tell us many little circumstances which would be true of any one; thus we might be led to believe all she said; the prediction would probably work out its own fulfilment, and perhaps render us miserable for life.

Sophronia. Oh, fudge! Mary Ann. This is altogether too bad and ungenerous in you. In the first place, the few cents we give, bestowed as they are on a poor old widow woman, are not wasted, in my opinion, but well spent;—and if I spend an evening, granted to me by my father and mother for recreation, in listening to Old Kate, it is no more wasted than if I spend it with the girls in any other social way. And when you connect fortune-telling and our duties in the present, you make it too serious an affair. Remember, this is all for sport.

Mary Ann. It may be so with you, Sophronia; but there are those who seriously believe every word of a fortune-teller, and actually live more in the unseen but expected events of the future, than in faithfully performing their duties in the present. This is true, Sophronia. The contentment and peace of many young minds have been utterly lost, sold for the absurd jabbering of old, ignorant, low-bred women, who pretend to read the future. [In a livelier tone of voice.] But just say, girls, do you believe there is any connection between tea-leaves and your future lives?

Eveline, Sarah, Sophronia. Why, no!

Mary Ann. Do you believe God has marked the fortunes of thousands of his creatures on the face of cards?

Eveline, Sarah, Sophronia. Certainly not.

Mary Ann. Well, do you believe, if God should intrust the secret events of the future with any of our race, in this age, it would be with those who have neither intellectual, moral, nor religious education—who can be bribed by dollars and cents to say anything?

Sarah, Eveline. No, indeed!

Mary Ann. (Turns to Sophronia,) You do not answer, Sophronia. Let me ask you one or two more questions. Do you suppose Kate Merrill believes that she has a revelation from God?

Sophronia. No, Mary Ann.

Mary Ann. Do you suppose she thinks you believe so?

Sophronia. Why, yes, I do.

Mary Ann. Then, is it benevolent to bestow money to encourage an old woman in telling for truth what she knows to be false?

Sophronia. I doubt whether it is really benevolent.

Mary Ann. And if Old Kate speaks falsely and knows she does so, and you know it, yet spend your time in listening to what she has to say, what good can come of it to head or heart?

Sophronia. None at all, Mary Ann. It is time wasted, and I am convinced that I have been doubly wrong in wishing to go, and in being angry with you. Will you forgive me?

Mary Ann. Certainly, Sophronia. And now, if you wish for amusement, I will be a witch myself, and tell your fortunes for you.

Sophronia. Oh, do tell mine; and be sure you tell it truly. What lines of fate do you see in my hand?

Mary Ann. (Takes her hand and looks at it intently.)

(To Sophronia.)

Passions strong my art doth see.
Thou must rule them, or they rule thee.
If the first, you peace will know;
If the last, woe followeth woe.

Sarah. Now tell mine next.

(To Sarah.)

Too believing, too believing,
Thou hast learned not of deceiving.
Closely scan what seemeth fair,
And of flattering words beware.

Eveline. Now tell me a pleasant fortune, Mary Ann.

(To Eveline.)

Lively and loving, I would not chide thee,
Do thou thy duty, and joy shall betide thee.

Sophronia. Thank you, Mary Ann, for the lessons you have given us. We can now, in turn, tell your fortune, and that is, Always be amiable and sensible as now, and you will always be loved.