September 15th, eight o'clock
To a sweeping glance , it will sometimes seem barren and desolate ; but not one buried germ of life and beauty is lost to the All-seeing Eye . I , having the weakness of human vision , must believe where I can not see . Henceforth , when I am tempted to complainings and despair on account of the evil around me , I will say to myself , ` Look deeper , look under the dead leaves , and you will find flowers . ' '' _ September 15th , eight o'clock . _ -- This morning , while I was arranging my books , Mother Genevieve came in , and brought me the basket of fruit I buy of her every Sunday . For nearly twenty years that I have lived in this quarter , I have dealt in her little fruit-shop . Perhaps I should be better served elsewhere , but Mother Genevieve has but little custom ; to leave her would do her harm , and cause her unnecessary pain .