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He gave her the yellow orange and the golden coin for her own,
And the school had a royal feast that day whose like they had never known.
To Fräulein, the gentle mistress, he spoke such words of cheer
That they lightened her anxious labor for many and many a year.
And because in his heart was hidden the memory of this thing,
The Lord had a better servant, the people a wiser king!
Mrs. Mary E. Bradley.
THE MOUNTAIN AND THE SQUIRREL.
THE mountain and the squirrel
And the former called the latter "little prig;"
"You are doubtless very big,
"But all sorts of things and weather
Must be taken in together
To make up a year
And a sphere;
"And I think it no disgrace
If I am not as large as you,
"I'll not deny you make
Ralph Waldo Emerson.
THE LITTLE LION CHARMER.
OUTSIDE the little village of Katrine,
Just where the country ventures into town, A circus pitched its tents, and on the green The canvas pyramids were fastened down.
The night was clear. The moon was climbing higher;
The show was over; crowds were coming out, When, through the surging mass, the cry of 66 Fire!"
Rose from a murmur to a wild, hoarse shout.
"Fire! fire!" The crackling flames ran up the tent,
The shrieks of frightened women filled the air, The cries of prisoned beasts weird horror lent To the wild scene of uproar and despair.
A lion's roar high o'er all the cries!
There is a crash-out into the night
"The lion's loose! The lion! Fly for your lives!"
weapon !" "Shoot him!" comes from far outside;
The shout wakes men again to conscious life; But as the aim is taken, the ranks divide
To make a passage for the keeper's wife.
Alone she came, a woman tall and fair,
And hurried on, and near the lion stood; "Oh, do not fire !" she cried; "let no one dare To shoot my lion-he is tame and good.
"My son my son !" she called; and to her ran A little child that scarce had seen nine years. "Play! play!" she said. Quickly the boy began : His little flute was heard by awestruck ears.
"Fetch me a cage," she cried. The men obeyed. 66 "Now go, my son, and bring the lion here.” Slowly the child advanced, and piped, and played, While men and women held their breaths in fear.
Sweetly he played, as though no horrid fate
The lion hearkened to the sweet, clear sound;
The boy thus reached his side. The beast stirred not.
The child then backward walked, and played again,
Till, moving softly, slowly from the spot,
The cage is waiting-wide its open door
And toward it, cautiously, the child retreats. But see! The lion, restless grown once more, Is lashing with his tail in angry beats.
The boy, advancing, plays again the lay.
Again the beast, remembering the refrain, Follows him on, until in this dread way
The cage is reached, and in it go the twain.
At once the boy springs out, the door makes fast, Then leaps with joy to reach his mother's side; Her praise alone, of all that crowd so vast,
Has power to thrill his little heart with pride. Harriet S. Fleming.
"MAMMA said: 'Little one, go and see
"I knew it was time for her to wake,
"I didn't make a speck of a noise;
I knew that she was dreaming of the little boys