How to Get the Most Out of Your Own Selfishness

I was deluged with letters and telegrams, stinging messages that swirled around my defenseless head like a swarm of hornets. One colonial dame who had been reared in Concord, Massachusetts, vented her scorching wrath upon me. She couldn't have been much more bitter if I had accused Miss Alcott of being a cannibal from New Guinea. As I read the letter, I said to myself, thank God I'm not married to that woman. And so I resolved to try to turn her hostility into friendliness. It would be a challenge, a sort of game I could play. After all, if I were she, I would probably feel just