"Yes," said Grasshopper Green, "I have a dozen wee boys of my own at home; and that reminds me that it is time to go home to breakfast! Good-bye, neighbor. I hope the children will soon be running about with you. You certainly are taking good care of them. Good-bye."

Then home he went; and proud, happy Mother Spider kept on her way to hunt for a breakfast for the babies she loved so well.

-FRANCES BLISS GILLESPY.

The Tree's early leaf buds were bursting their brown; "Shall I take them away?" said the Frost, sweeping down.

"No, leave them alone

Till the blossoms have grown,"

Prayed the Tree, while he trembled from rootlet to

crown.

The Tree bore his blossoms, and all the birds sung; "Shall I take them away?" said the Wind, as he

swung.

"No, leave them alone

Till the berries have grown,"

Said the Tree, while his leaflets quivering hung.

The Tree bore his fruit in the midsummer glow; Said the girl: "May I gather thy berries now?" "Yes, all thou canst see:

Take them; all are for thee,"

Said the Tree, while he bent down his laden boughs

low.

-BJÖRNSTJERNE BJÖRNSON.

THE FIRST GRENADIER

When Napoleon the Great was emperor of France he fought many battles and won many famous victories. He was greatly loved by his soldiers, and his praise was one of the highest honors they cared to win.

One day, one of his soldiers, named La Tour d'Auvergne, was sent away from the main army alone to attend to some important business. While on his way he heard that a regiment of Austrians had been sent to besiege a French fort that guarded a narrow path, or pass through the mountains.

This pass was a very important place; and if the Austrians gained possession, it would be a sad thing for the French army. La Tour d'Auvergne knew this, and he determined to try to reach the fort and warn the commander before the Austrians arrived. He climbed the mountain with all speed; but when he reached the fort, he found that the French soldiers who had been there had fled.

Thirty good muskets and plenty of ammunition had been left behind; and the lookout had even left his telescope lying on the watch-tower. Looking through the telescope, La Tour d'Auvergne saw that the Austrians were still some distance away, and he bravely determined to try to hold the fort alone as long as possible. He knew that it would be of great service to Napoleon to have the enemy's advance checked even for a little while.

The pass was steep and narrow, and the Austrians could enter it only two at a time; so that one man with thirty muskets ready could do much to check the advance of the enemy.

He hastily blocked up the main entrance to the fort with all the lumber that could be found, then loaded every gun, and placed extra ammunition where it could easily be reached when the guns needed reloading. By this time it was dark, and there was nothing to be done but to wait for the Austrians to come.

About midnight he heard the sound of many feet.

In an instant his hand grasped a musket; and as soon as he thought the enemy had entered the pass, he fired once, twice, as rapidly as possible. No return shots were fired; and from the short, quick commands of the officers, he decided that the Austrians had been surprised and confused by his greeting.

Nothing further was heard until sunrise the next morning, when the Austrian commander called upon the garrison to surrender. La Tour d'Auvergne received the messenger bearing the flag of truce.

"Tell your commander," he said to the messenger, "that the garrison will defend the pass to the last

man."

When the messenger reported to his commander, a gun was hauled into the pass to open fire upon the fort. The only place upon which the cannon could be stationed was opposite the tower, within easy musket range.

As soon as the gun was in place, La Tour d'Auvergne sent such a rain of lead upon the gunners that the enemy were forced to withdraw. The Austrians bravely followed their leaders a second time up the narrow pass; but La Tour d'Auvergne's firing was so rapid and so sure that fifteen men fell before the whole body retreated. A third time they tried, and again they had to retreat.

By sunset the Austrians had lost forty-five men, and at dark the commander sent a second messenger

under a flag of truce to demand that the fort surrender.

The day had seemed endless to the poor French soldier. He was very much in need of food and rest and sleep; but what were weariness and hunger if he could only hold the fort twelve hours longer? In that time, he knew the French commander would be able to make all necessary preparations against the Austrian

army.

So he sent the messenger back to tell his commander that he would surrender the fort at sunrise the next morning on condition that the garrison be allowed to march out with its arms to join the French army. To these terms, the Austrians gladly agreed.

At sunrise the Austrian troops were drawn up in line on either side of the pass, leaving a space open for the garrison from the fort. The heavy door swung open, and La Tour d'Auvergne, staggering under his load of thirty muskets, passed slowly down between the lines of troops. Not a soul followed him out of the fort.

"Why does not the garrison appear?" asked the surprised commander.

"I am the garrison, Colonel," said La Tour d'Auvergne, saluting.

"What!" said the colonel, "do you mean to tell me that you have held that fort single-handed against my whole regiment?