“This nymph saw Narcissus, a beautiful youth, as he pursued the chase upon the mountains.  She loved him, and followed his footsteps.  O, how she longed to address him in the softest accents, and win him to converse; but it was not in her power.  She waited with impatience for him to speak first, and had her answer ready.  One day the youth, being separated from his companions, shouted aloud, ‘Who’s here?’ Echo replied ‘here.’  Narcissus looked around, but seeing no one, called out, ‘Come.’  Echo answered, ‘come.’  As no one came, Narcissus called again, ‘Why do you shun me?’ Echo asked the same question.  ‘Let us join one another,’ said the youth.  The maid answered with all her heart in the same words and hastened to the spot, ready to throw her arms about his neck.  He started back, exclaiming, ’Hands off; I would rather die than you should have me.’  ‘Have me,’ said she; but it was all in vain.  He left her and she went to hide her blushes in the recesses of the woods.  From that time forth she lived in caves and among mountain cliffs.  Her form faded with grief, till at last all her flesh shrank away.  Her bones were changed into rocks, and there was nothing left of her but her voice.  With that she is still ready to reply to any one who calls her, and keeps up her old habit of having the last word.”

“Speak to her now, and see if she will answer you?” said Dawn to her attentive listener.

“Why, is she here? in these woods?”

“Call her, and see.”

“Echo-Echo!” The words came back to the wondering child, his face aglow with curiosity and fear.

“Now I will tell you the moral of this little story, which is:  be not anxious for the last word, as I see my good little Herbert is, too often, especially when talking with his sister.”

“Will I change into rocks and shrink all up if I do?”

“That is not the thing to be feared.  But you would not; your mind would grow narrow and selfish, which is a fate most to be deplored, for you wish to be a good and great man, do you not?”

“Yes, I want to be good as papa, and uncle Wyman, as he always calls him.”

“Then remember and be unselfish, and think first of others’ welfare, will you?”

“I will try; and can I always talk with Echo?”

“Whenever you are near the wood where she lives.”

“Will she live here when I am a grown-up man?”

“Yes.  Why?”

“Because, if I don’t like folks’ answers, I can come and talk to Echo.”

“She will certainly be very likely to be of your opinion, or, at least, she will express herself to your liking; but I hope my little Herbert will find those more agreeable than Echo to talk with.”

“I don’t want to, Auntie; I like her.”

Dawn smiled, and thought how older heads did not like disputation, preferring often the companionship of a mere echo, to good sense and sound judgment, forgetting that “he who wrestles with us, strengthens us.”