LITERATURE.

The Blue-bird and the Robin, by Emily Dickinson.

MEMORY GEM.

"O, blue-bird, up in the maple tree,

Shaking your throat with such bursts of glee;

How did you happen to be so blue?

Did you steal a bit of the sky for your crest,
And fasten blue violets into your breast?

Tell me, I pray you, tell me true!''

READINGS AND BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Wake, Robin (chapter on the Blue-bird), by Burroughs. Birdcraft, Mabel O. Wright.

A Year With Birds, Flagg.

Sharp Eyes (April Birds), Gibson.

Little Brothers of the Air, O. Miller.

Our Common Birds and how to Know Them, John Grant. In Nesting Time, O. T. Miller.

Seaside and Wayside, J. M. Wright.

SPRING HERALDED.

Oh! the sunshine told the blue-bird
And the blue-bird told the brook,
That the dandelions were peeping

From the woodland's sheltered nook;
So the brook was blithe and happy,
And it babbled all the way

As it ran to tell the river

Of the coming of the May.

Then the river told the meadow

And the meadow told the pee,
That the tender buds were swelling
On the old horse-chestnut tree;
And the bee shook off its torpor,
And it spread each gauzy wing

As it flew to tell the flowers

Of the coming of the spring.

STORY OF KING MIDAS.

A great many years ago there lived a very rich king. It took him many weeks just to count his gold pieces. But he wanted all the time to be getting richer. No matter how much he had, he wanted more. He gave all his time and thought to getting gold. One day, when he was counting his gold and looking very sad, a stranger appeared before him. "Why do you look so sad?" asked the stranger. The king answered, "Oh, if I could only turn everything I touch to gold."

Now, the stranger had a wonderful power which he could give to the king. So he said, "From to-morrow everything you touch shall become gold." That night the king could hardly sleep for joy. In the morning he raised his purple robe to place it on his shoulder. Instantly every thread was golden. He sat down to fasten his sandals. In a twinkling the chair in which he sat became golden. His sandals, too, the instant he touched them, changed to pure gold. When he went for his morning walk, every flower became a golden flower. The path, and even the grass that he trod upon, became gold.

But even a king will get hungry. So Midas went back to the palace for his breakfast. We are not told what it was, but we may be sure it was a feast fit for a king. He asked for water. A glassful was given him, and the moment he put it to his lips it turned to gold. The poor king could not drink gold. What was he to do? It was of no use to ask for another: that, too, would become gold in his hand. All the money in the world could not buy him a drink of water.

He sat down to eat.

But every mouthful became gold the moment he put it to his lips. So he could eat nothing. With all his gold he would yet have to starve to death.

Then the stranger again appeared. The king, with tears in his eyes, begged him to take away the touch that turned "Are you not happy, King Midas?" am most miserable," groaned the king. "I beg you to take away

everything to gold.

"I

this hateful touch." The stranger told the king to bathe in a stream near by, and the golden touch would leave him; and that water from the same stream would change back from gold anything on which he sprinkled it.

Midas lost no time in obeying. The water washed away the golden touch, but the sands of the river banks became golden, and it is said that grains of gold are to be found there to this day. Midas was a happier king than he had ever been before.

MARSHALL PUBLIC SCHOOLS,

OFFICE OF THE SUPERINTENDENT,

MARSHALL, MICH., February 15, 1898

A. FLANAGAN, Esq., Chicago, Ill.

We have fifteen school periodicals on our exchange table-the best to be had. None awakens the interest that your PLAN Book does. Our teachers are enthusiastic in its praise. Quite a number of them are taking it personally, and there is but one verdict, "The best thing out." You deserve the thanks not only of the primary teacher, but of all teachers for publishing this. Sincerely,

E. F. LOHR, Supt.

BLACKBOARD GEM.

March nodded to winter, "good-bye, bood-bye."
Off to your home in the south you must fly;
Or have you forgotten that under the snow

The wee seeds are waiting, yes, waiting to grow?

wake! pret-ty dai

sy and sweet but-ter-cup; Why! you've been sleeping the now we must all go to work with a will." "Wake!" says the warm breeze, "and wake! for the world is all beauty and love; Wake! little children, so

whole win-ter long! Hark! hark! don't you hear? 'Tis the blue - bird's first song." you, wil-low tree, Come, put on your leaves in a twink-ling for mer ·

me."

ry and dear; Ah! what were the spring-time, if you were not here?" From "Eleanor Smith's Songs for Little Children, No. 1." By per. of Pub., Milton, Bradley & Co.

A SPRING SONG.

BERTHA JOSEPHINE HECKER.

1. Winter days will soon be gone, Winter days that seemed so
2. Frost and snow will melt. a-way, All will soon be
3. Daisies in the fields will grow, Violets in the

long;

green and gay; woods will blow;

From its sleep the earth will wake, And its frozen chain will break. Flow'rs will bloom and skies be light, Ev'ry-thing be warm and bright. Happy spring-time! wel-come here, Wel-come to the children dear!