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“She’ll have to try a good while before she gets to be good,” said Marie, with a careless laugh. “Well, you know, mamma, poor Topsy! everything has always been against her.” “Not since she’s been here, I’m sure. If she hasn’t been talked to, and preached to, and every earthly thing done that anybody could do;- and she’s just so ugly, and always will be; you can’t make anything of the creature!” “But, mamma, it’s so different to be brought up as I’ve been, with so many friends, so many things to make me good and happy; and to be brought up as she’s been, all the time, till she came here!” “Most likely,” said Marie, yawning,- “dear me, how hot it is!” “Mamma, you believe, don’t you, that Topsy could become an angel, as well as any of us, if she were a Christian?” “Topsy! what a ridiculous idea! Nobody but you would ever think of it. I sup- pose she could, though.” “But, mamma, isn’t God her Father, as much as ours? Isn’t Jesus her Sav- iour?” “Well, that may be. I suppose God made everybody,” said Marie. “Where is my smelling-bottle?” |