Go sport in the sunlight, Your brief little hour;Your day at the longest Is scarcely a span;
Then go and enjoy it, Be gay while you can.
You see I have something More useful to do;
I work, and must learn,
And play sometimes too. Your days with the blossoms,Bright thing, you may spend, They close with the summer-Mine never shall end.
Author.-The author is not known.
General Notes.-How did the word butter get into the name butterfly? This insect has been compared to a winged flower. What is the difference between a butterfly and a moth? The butterfly has no nest; its food is the sweet juice of flowers; it lives only a few days. In what ways is a butterfly like a bird? In what ways is it unlike?
Lesson 24
THE puSSy WIllOWS
A willow-tree grew on the bank of a deep river, and her wide-spreading branches almost swept the surface of the water.
One morning, while she was busy caring for her baby buds and new leaves, she heard rapid footsteps, and in another moment she saw a boy rush down to the edge of the river and throw something into the Water with a great splash. Then off he went again.
Now, what do you suppose the big willow-tree saw floating and struggling in the water, just beneath the shade of her limbs? Three of the softest, prettiest grey kittens that anyone ever saw.
They were just about the colour of blue, curling smoke, and each one wore a pair of fuzzy, silver-grey mittens, with the daintiest of little pink cushions tucked underneath.
Just as the willow-tree was wondering what to do about it, she heard something else come flying down the path, jumping over bushes and stumps, and scattering the dry leaves in her pathway as she ran.
It was the mother of the dear little soft grey pussies, and,when she reached the river"s edge and saw her own baby kittens struggling in the deep water, she jumped right in, with a great splash, and tried her best to save their lives.
Poor baby pussies! The water was getting into their pretty blue eyes and running into their noses and ears and mouths, and in a very few minutes they most surely would have been dead, had it not been for the kindness of the big willow-tree.
"Quick, oh, quick!" she cried, bending her branches low over the water"s edge. "Catch my limbs, hold tight, and I shall hold you above the water."And then, one by one, the mother eat and her three baby kittens were caught up by the strong branches of the willow and held tight, until the brave mother cat brought each half- drowned kitten safely to the shore.
In the snug hollow of the big willow-tree she made them a bed, and soon licked them all dry with the queer pink towel mother cats carry about in their mouths.
Perhaps they thought it was better to live in the woods with a kind willow-tree than in a house with an unkind earth- child. I know the mother cat believed this, because she did not try to carry her kittens away, but began, like them, to make herself at home.
The willow-tree was very glad of this, and she enjoyed watching the baby kittens. They grew fatter and plumper and rounder every day, and their mother was kept busy trying to bring them up in just the right way.
She showed them their soft, silver-grey mittens, and told them how to keep them washed clean with their long pink tongues.
And she showed them their sharp little claws, and told them how to use them and how to say "sput-t!" and how to arch their grey backs when anything came to frighten them.
So every day the baby kittens grew smarter. They even learned to climb to the very top of the big willow-tree, and would sometimes curl up on her branches for a morning nap-tiny little balls of silver-grey fuzz they seemed to be.
It was then the willow-tree loved them most, and, the more she watched them asleep in her branches, the more she wanted some like them for her very own-some who would always stay with her and never run away.
How the fairy queen laughed when she heard of this wish! It seemed so very queer that a tree should want silver-grey pussies.
But she had also heard about the kind deed of the big willow-tree in saving the lives of the little grey kittens and their mother; so, waving her wand over the willow-tree, she sang:
Willow fair, dear willow fair,
Silver-grey pussies shalt thou bear; Because thy heart is kind and true, This thy wish I grant to you.
And so it was and always has been since.
Every spring the willow-tree and all of her kindred are decked with soft, fuzzy pussies of silver-grey,-and, even though you frighten them, they never run away.
From Fanciful Flower Tales, by Madge A. BighamAuthor.-Madge A. Bigham is an American lady who writes a book called Fanciful Flower Tales, published by Little, Brown, and Co., of America.
General Notes.-Most children know the Pussy Willow, a shrub of which the flowers, scattered along slender stems, give a kind of likeness to little grey kittens. How did the willow save the kittens? Did the weeping willow weep for pity? How did the fairy reward her?
Lesson 25
WHO STOlE THE BIRD"S NEST?
"Tu-whit ! tu-whit ! tu-whee ! Will you listen to me?
Who stole four eggs I laid. And the nice nest I made?""Not I," said the cow, "Moo-oo! Such a thing I"d never do;I gave you a wisp of hay,
But didn"t take your nest away; Not I," said the cow, "Moo-oo! Such a thing I"d never do.""Tu-whit ! tu-whit! tu-whee ! Will you listen to me?
Who stole four eggs I laid, And the nice nest I made? Bob-o-link! Bob-o-link! Now what, do you think? Who stole a nest awayFrom the plum-tree to-day?"
"Not I," said the dog, "Bow-wow ! I"m not so mean, anyhow!
I gave hairs the nest to make, But the nest I did not take;Not I, "said the dog," Bow-wow! I"m not so mean, anyhow."Drawn by W.S. Wemyss
The Thief-is he here?
"Coo-coo! Coo-coo! Coo-coo! Let me speak a few words, too! Who stole that pretty nestFrom poor little Yellow-breast?"
