Who wishes to play that the dog or cat is trying to catch the little chickens? How large are you going to make the dog? Any larger than the hen? How much larger? How about the cat?

When you go home to-day look at your hens, dog and cat, and compare them in size. Tell me when you come back how much larger the dog is than the hen. How much larger than the cat. How much larger the cat than the hen.

Draw or paint hen, rooster and chicks.

Cut chickens and eggs.

Draw chicken coop.

LITERATURE.

"The Chicken's Mistake," Cary.

"The Four Musicians."

"The Little Red Hen."

HERR OSTER HAAS.

A long time ago, in a far-off country, there was a famine; and this is how it came about. In the early spring, when the first grass peeped out, the sun shone so hot that it all dried up. No rains fell all the long summer months, so that the seed and grain that was planted could not grow, and everywhere the fields and meadows, usually so green and rich, were a dull, gray brown. Here and there a green tree waved its dusty. branches in the hot wind.

When Fall came, instead of the well-filled granaries and barns, there was a great emptiness; and instead of happy fathers and mothers, there were grave, troubled faces. But the children were just as happy as ever. They were even glad it did not rain, for they could play out of doors all summer long and the dust heaps were never so large and fine. The people in the land had to be very saving and careful of the things they had left from the year before; and all the following Win

ter, by trying very hard, they managed to get very simple food for their families. When Christmas came there were not many presents, but the children did not miss them as we would because in that land they did not give many presents at Christmas. Their holiday was Easter Sunday. On this day they had a great celebration, and there were always some goodies and presents for the little folks.

As the time came nearer, the parents wondered what they would do for their children's holiday, as every new day it was harder than ever to get just the plain, coarse bread for them to eat, not to speak of all the sweetmeats and pretty things that they had always had for Easter-time.

Some of the mothers got together one evening, after the children were abed, to talk over what they would do. One mother said: We can have eggs, as all the chickens are laying, but they are so tired of them, for they have them every day." So they decided that the eggs would not do; and they went home rather sorrowfully, thinking they must give it all up and let Easter be just like every other day of the year.

One of the mothers was very sorry, for her dear little boy and girl had been talking and planning about the lovely time they would have on the great holiday. After she had gone to her bed that night she thought and thought if there was any way she could give her darlings their happy time. All at once she said, right out in the dark, "I have it; that's just the thing we want," and then she began to laugh aloud, but quickly grew quiet so as not to waken the sleeping children. She could hardly wait until morning, and the first thing she ran into the nearest neighbor's house, and told her of the bright plan that had come to her in the night. The neighbor thought it was a fine idea, and she told another mother and before night almost all the mothers in the town knew about it, but not a single child knew a word, for it was to be a great surprise.

There was still a week before Easter, and during this time there was a good deal of whispering on the part of the grown

people, and the fathers and mothers would smile every time they thought of their secret. When the day came, first of all everyone went to the great stone church at the end of the street—mothers and fathers and children, all dressed in their best clothes. When church was out, instead of going home, the older people suggested going beyond the church into the lovely wood just behind it. "Perhaps we can find some flowers," they said; so on they trooped, and soon the merry groups were scattered in among the trees.

Suddenly a shout went up, now here, now there, from all sides, something like this: "Mother, father, look here!" "See what I've found!" "Some beautiful eggs!" "Here's a red one!" "I have a yellow one!" "Here's a whole nest full, all different colors!" etc.; and the children came running, bringing beautifully colored eggs, which they had accidentally found in the soft moss under the trees. What kind of eggs could they be? They were too large for birds' eggs, but they were beautifully colored and large like hens' eggs. Just then, from behind a large tree, where there was a large nest full of eggs, jumped a large white rabbit, and with long leaps disappeared into the deeper woods, where he was hidden from view by the trees and bushes.

"It must have been the rabbit who laid the pretty eggs," said one little girl.

"I'm sure it was the rabbit," said her brother.

"Hurrah for the rabbit!"

"Hurrah for the Easter rabbit! Hurrah for Herr Oster Haas," the children shouted and cheered, and the fathers and mothers smiled and were glad, too.

And ever since, in that far-away land, and in many countries, the Easter rabbit brings us our beautifully-colored eggs. -E. H. S., from Child Garden, published by Kindergarten Literature Co.

Note. It will pay every primary teacher to take this magazine.

SILK.

Secure a silk-worm cocoon to show to pupils, and let them examine it and note the difference between it and the cocoons gathered from trees and bushes near our school. Tell the children that all the silk that has ever been made has been spun by the little gray worms that make houses like this

cocoon.

The little worm in the cocoon is first a tiny seed. The worm that comes from the seed is so small that you can scarcely see it, but it eats so much and so fast that it soon grows. It likes mulberry leaves best. When it eats so much that its skin gets tight, it throws it off and comes out in a new and better one. It keeps on eating and growing until it has changed its dress four times, and then it begins to spin. It is about four weeks old and three inches long when it begins to build this little thread house.

It draws the threads of which the cocoon is made out of two little holes near its mouth. It weaves these threads into a kind of ball we call a cocoon, leaving a little room just large enough to hold the cocoon. Then it shuts itself up inside and closes up the door. It goes to sleep when it gets inside and turns to a silk-moth.

If the moth is let alone it will come out, but it will cut the threads into little pieces when it comes out, and that would never do, for we wish to use the thread to make silk.

So the cocoon is dropped into hot water and the moths are scalded to death. Then it is sent to the silk mill and the threads are unwound and spun into silk.

Just think how many little worms must work to give us so much silk. Think of the yards and yards of silks, satins, velvets and ribbons which are used and sold in the stores every day, and remember that if it were not for these industrious little spinners we would not have any of these beautiful things. So worms are of some use after all.