THE SEASONS.

First Child:

What does it mean when the blue bird comes

And builds its nest, singing sweet and clear? When violets peep through the blades of grass?

Second Child:

These are the signs that spring is here.

Third Child:

What does it mean when the berries are ripe? When butterflies flit and honeybees hum? When cattle stand under the shady trees?

Second Child:

These are the signs that summer has come.

Fourth Child:

What does it mean when the crickets chirp? And away to the south the robins steer? When apples are falling and leaves grow brown?

What does it mean when the days are short? When leaves are gone and brooks are dumb? When fields are white with drifted snow?

Second Child:

These are the signs that winter has come.

All:

The old stars set and the new ones rise,
The skies that were stormy grow bright and clear;
And so the beautiful, wonderful signs

Go round and round through the changing year.

GEORGE COOPER.

THE DISCONTENTED PINE TREE.

FIRST DAY.

Little Pine Tree: How I hate these old needles I have for leaves. I wish I had leaves of

gold.

Wood Fairy: If you had gold leaves do you think you would be happy, little tree?

Little Pine Tree: Oh, yes, dear fairy. I know I should be ever so happy.

Wood Fairy: Then you may have your wish, little pine tree. Go to sleep. When you wake to-morrow, you will have leaves of gold. Goodnight.

Little Pine Tree: Thank you, kind fairy. Good-night.

SECOND DAy.

Little Pine Tree: It is morning. Oh, see my beautiful golden leaves!

How bright they are

in the sunshine! Now I have the finest leaves in the forest.

Robber: I wonder what makes that little tree shine so! Why, the leaves are pure gold! How lucky I am! I will I will carry them all away!

Little Pine Tree: Please, please do not take my beautiful golden leaves.

Robber: Indeed I shall.

Of what use are

golden leaves to a tree? Now, I have gathered every one and I shall be rich for the rest of my life.

Little Pine Tree: Ah, me! Ah, me! I have lost my beautiful golden leaves! What shall I do!

Old Tree: You should be content with your own leaves. You never hear me grumbling about my leaves, do you?

Little Pine Tree: No, but I want to be more beautiful than any other tree in the forest.

comes the wood fairy. She may help me.

Here

Wood Fairy: Where are the beautiful golden

leaves I gave you?

Little Pine Tree: Alas! A wicked robber carried them all away. Now I have no leaves.

What shall I do?

Wood Fairy: I will give you more leaves. Would you like to have your needles back?