to mind Mother Nature. Now it grieves me to say Mr. Robin was very bold and saucy. He whispered some unkind things to Pussy's friends one day. The next morning, when Pussy opened her eyes, the birds, the buds, the brook, the grass and the flowers began to whisper among themselves, saying, "Do you suppose Pussy Willow has to wear her hood because she has no hair? Poor Pussy Willow." Brave Pussy felt very sad. All she said was, “Wait and see.”

How surprised every one was a few days after this! There was Pussy Willow with no fur hood on her head, but bright golden curls were dancing up and down in the breeze.

Pussy Willow is not a bald head, she wears beautiful golden curls," cried all her friends. Mr. Robin hid his head and flew away very much ashamed.

(Adapted.)

Kate L. Brown.

A LAUGHING CHORUS.

Oh, such a commotion under the ground
When March called, "Ho! there, Ho!"'

Such spreading of rootlets far and wide,

Such whispering to and fro.

And "Are you ready?" the snow-drop asked,

"'Tis time to start, you know.”

"Almost, my dear," the Scilla replied,

"I'll follow as soon as you go."

Then, "Ha! Ha! Ha!, "a chorus came,

Of laughter soft and low,

From millions of flowers under the ground,

Yes, millions, beginning to grow.

"I'll promise my blossoms," the Crocus said,

"When I hear the bluebirds sing."

And straight thereafter Narcissus cried,

"My silver and gold I'll bring."

"And, ere they are dulled," another spoke,

"The Hyacinth bells shall ring."

And the violet only murmured, "I'm here,"

And sweet grew the air of spring.

CHCRUS:-Then, "Ha! Ha! Ha!" &c.

WHY THE WILLOWS ARE CALLED "PUSSY WILLOWS.”

There was once a great city in Asia which was built so long ago that even the name of the city and of its people has been forgotten, and everything else about it except one little story. The people were very fond of cats, and there were great numbers of them about the city. These people believed that cats were sacred animals, fed them well, treated them kindly, and when they died, made little mummy cats of them. When the city was very old there came a great flood which covered the earth. Cats do not like water, and when it began to rain so hard, the cats and kittens were very unhappy. When the ground grew wet and muddy, they tried to find trees into which they might climb to keep dry. The old cats remembered that there was a great forest of big trees on some mountains a long way off, and they set out for it on a run. The poor kitties started too, but they could not run so fast or so far, and their little legs grew tired trying to run through the deep mud, and so, when they came to a row of tall willow trees beside a river, they climbed up and rested themselves in the forks made in the branches.

It was comical to see the tall, slender trees full of kittens, some white, some yellow, but most of all were the cunning gray maltese kits like balls of fur. Soon each kitten rolled itself into a ball, with its head thrust snugly in between its paws so as not to feel the rain and the cold, and went to sleep. It rained harder and harder, and the water rose higher and higher, until all the earth was covered with water.

As the wind drove the waves around, they struck on the tree trunks and splashed mud over the little kittens, until there was a thick coating of sticky mud on them, so they could not move, and one could see nothing but little brown balls along the branches.

So they stayed day after day, until it stopped raining and the sun shone again. At last the water dried and the earth appeared, but the kittens slept, for the shell of mud was over them so thick they did not know the rain had stopped. But the sun shone warm upon them and dried the mud, until as it dried it cracked open aud the sunshine reached the kitties, and one could see through the cracks bits of white, and yellow, and gray fur.

Then the little cats woke up, put their heads through the cracks, and pushed clear out. The shells of mud fell down to the ground, and it was like the blossoming of a flower, for all along the branches, where just before were dull brown balls of mud, shone the soft, smooth, furry balls of gray and yellow and white.

If you look at the willow trees and bushes down by the brooks in March, you will find the little brown balls or buds all along the stems. If you watch them as the sun shines on them day by day, you will see the brown shells crack, and you can see the gray, yellow and white fur underneath, while, at last, the brown shells will fall to the ground. Then you will see the dainty " pussies" or pussy willows," all along the stems. with their fur as smooth and soft as the prettiest kitten A few days later you will see the strings of you ever saw. willow seeds hanging down like kittens' tails.

And so we call the willows "pussy willows," and the strings of seeds "catkins," in memory of the little kittens of the old, forgotten city, and the way they safely lived througn the days of the flood.

-Frank D. Carpenter, From "Little Men and Women," March, 1894.

A BUSY DAY.

The bluff March Wind set out from home

Before the peep of day,

But nobody seemed to be glad he had come,
And nobody asked him to stay.

Yet he dried up the snow-banks far and near,
And made the snow-clouds roll,

Huddled up in a heap, like driven sheep,
'Way off to the cold North Pole.

He broke the ice on the river's back

And floated it down the tide,

And the wild ducks came with a loud "Quack, quack""

To play in the waters wide.

He snatched the hat off Johnny's head

And rolled it on and on,

And oh, what a merry chase it led

Little laughing and scampering John!

He swung the tree where the squirrel lay
Too late in its winter bed,

And he seemed to say in his jolly way,
"Wake up, little sleepy head!"

He dried the yard so that Rob and Ted
Could play at marbles there,

And he painted their cheeks a carmine red
With the greatest skill and care.

He shook all the clothes-lines one by one,

What a busy time he had!

But nobody thanked him for all he had done;

Now wasn't that just too bad?

-Selected.

THE MAPLE TREE.

"There's a maple bud, redder to-day!
It will almost flower to-morrow;
I could swear 'twas only yesterday
In a sheet of snow and ice it lay,

With fierce winds blowing it every way."-Selected.

Describe the tree you have in mind, and let pupils guess its name. "I am thinking of a tree of which we are all very fond. It gives shade, fuel, and wood for furniture. It also gives us something to eat. Some of the members of this tree family blossom in March. They have red flowers, and the seeds are ripe and ready to leave the mother tree in May. What is it?" If the pupils are unable to tell, from description, the name of the tree, tell them that the seeds have wings, and are called keys. Children call them "squirters." There will be no difficulty now. One of the maple tree family grows here in the yard. It is called the sugar maple, or hard maple. You can tell it by its late hanging seeds and round head.

The red maple has clustered, reddish buds, flowers and young seeds, before the leaves come. Who can find a red maple?

You can tell it by One of these trees

The ash leaved maple is another kind. its trifoliate leaves, and maple like seeds. blossoms in March. Which one is it? Watch the maple trees and find out. This is the month some maple trees are tapped for sap. Are there Are there any in this neighborhood that we might tap? Can you get some of the sap? How? What do we put in the hole for the syrup to run out on? Who could draw a spile? Tap a tree and get enough of the sap to illustrate the process of sugar making. Let pupils taste sap before boiling, and then' afterward, and tell you how the sugar and water have been separated. What has become of the water which was part of the sap. What made it leave the tree? What use is made of the sap? For sugar and syrup. How and when obtained from the tree?