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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
Had a quarrel,

And the former called the latter "little prig;"

Bun replied,

"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
To occupy my place.

If I am not as large as you,
You are not so small as I,
And not half so spry.

"I'll not deny you make
A very pretty squirrel track;
Talents differ; all are well and wisely put.
If I cannot carry forests on my back,
Neither can you crack a nut."

Ralph Waldo Emerson.


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 tawny creature leaps with glowing eyes,
Then stands, defiant, in the fierce red light.

"The lion's loose! The lion! Fly for your lives!"
But deathlike silence falls upon them all,
So paralyzed with fear that no one strives
To make escape, to move, to call!

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
Could ever harm his sunny little head.
He never paused, or seemed to hesitate,
But went to do the thing his mother said.

The lion hearkened to the sweet, clear sound;
The anger vanished from his threatening eyes;
All motionless he crouched upon the ground,
And listened to the silver melodies.

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 lion followed the familiar strain.

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
If grandmother's ready to come to tea.'
I knew I mustn't disturb her, so
I stepped as gently along, tiptoe,
And stood a moment to take a peep-
And there was grandmother fast asleep!

"I knew it was time for her to wake,
I thought I'd give her a little shake,
Or tap at her door, or softly call ;
But I hadn't the heart for that at all-
She looked so sweet and so quiet there,
Lying back in her high arm-chair,
With her dear white hair, and a little smile,
That means she is loving you all the while.

"I didn't make a speck of a noise;

I knew that she was dreaming of the little boys
And girls who lived with her so long ago
And then went to heaven-she told me so.

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