“I

THE FIRST SNOWDROP.

WANT to get up," the Snowdrop said,

As she loosened the wraps about her head "It may be the world is white with snow, Yet I'd rather be there than here below. 'Tis horrid to be curled up so tight — I want to look out and see the light.

"My dear little sisters are fast asleep,
And I am the first to take a peep
Out of my bed, where, snugly rolled,
I slept in warm blankets, fold on fold.
But now I am ever so wide awake,
And it's surely time for the morn to break.

"My dress is the prettiest e'er was seen;
'Tis white, with an overskirt of green,
With six pretty silken cords that hold.
As many tiny tassels of gold.

Oh, I have been working, never fear,
To look my best, when I do appear.

"And I must welcome the song-birds home,
There seems such a stirring all around,
And I hear new voices above the ground.
The buds on the willows are calling, 'Come';
For this is the message they bring, I guess,

Get up, little maid; it is time to dress.'"

- Julia M. Dana

IN APRIL.

HE air is soft and balmy,

TH

The grass is growing green, The maple buds are swelling,

Till their slender threads are seen.
The brown brook chatters gayly

Its rippling course along,
And hark! - from distant tree-top
I hear the bluebird's song.

O joyous, gladsome carol,
Exultant, fearless, true!

There is hidden a heavenly message
'Neath that coat of heavenly blue.
My heart thrills as I listen;

God's love is sure and strong. Thank Him for life's awakening! Praise for the bluebird's song!

After the winter, springtime,
The sunshine follows rain;
Tho' grief and sorrow chill us,

The heart grows warm again.
From earth to His glad heaven
God will His loved ones bring;
Still, after frosts and snowdrifts,

We hear the bluebirds sing.

- Emily Gail Arnold

"By and by the rain came

Knocking at the door; Sunbeams coaxed us

Sleep no more!

Out we sprang delighted;

Now we gayly sing,

Through the merry hours of spring."

- Selected.

THE

PUSSY WILLOW.

HE brook is brimmed with melting snow,
The maple sap is running,

And on the highest elm a crow

His coal-black wings is sunning.

A close, green bud, the Mayflower lies

Upon its mossy pillow;

And sweet and low the south wind blows,
And through the brown fields calling goes,
"Come, Pussy! Pussy Willow!

Within your close, brown wrapper stir;
Come out and show your silver fur;
Come, Pussy! Pussy Willow!"

Soon red will bud the maple trees,
The bluebirds will be singing,
And yellow tassels in the breeze
Be from the poplars swinging;

And rosy will the Mayflower lie
Upon its mossy pillow;

"But you must come the first of all, -
Come, Pussy!" is the south wind's call, -
Come, Pussy! Pussy Willow!

A fairy gift to children dear,
The downy firstling of the year,—
Come, Pussy! Pussy Willow!"

- Marian Douglass

MISS WILLOW.

LADY so fine came out of the woods,

All dressed in silvery gray,

Whether satin or velvet, or soft woolen goods,

I'm sure I'm not able to say.

While great drifts were piled in hedgerow and plain,
While fiercely the March winds did blow,
And wildly the tempest in mockery raged,
This lady stepped out in the snow.

I asked a young ash which grew by the wall,
To tell me the fine lady's name;

"Oh yes," he made answer, "no trouble at all;
She has a most enviable fame.

"So modest is she, so dainty and sweet,
Most dearly I love her, 'tis true,

But if no objection the young lady brings,
I'll make her acquainted with you.

"Miss Willow, my friend, Mr. Love-Nature here, Your friendship has gallantly sought,"

Then, in a low whisper, he laughingly said,

"We call her Miss Pussy for short."

-Susie E. Kennedy