"And every single blossom

66

Perhaps," I carelessly answered;
"When we get there, we shall see.”

"And, oh! they have ever so many,
Why, every tree must be full.”
"Of course, spring lasts forever
In heaven," I answered, so dull.

"Do the angels get tired of flowers?" Asked she, with a gentle sigh; "For see, oh, see, they are throwing Whole handfuls down from the sky."

I sprang to the frosted window

To see what the child could mean. The ground was covered with snowflakes, And the air was full between.

I kissed my innocent darling,

And speedily set her right,

While I prayed that her heart might ever Be pure as the snow and as bright.

SUNDAY-SCHOOL SPEAKER.

THE BIRDS.

HUMMING-BIRD.

I wish I were a humming-bird,
A tiny little thing,

With feathers light and airy,
And a brilliant rainbow wing;
Fleet as a sound, I'd fly, I'd fly,
Away from fear and harm,
Over the flowers and through the air,
Inhaling heavenly balm.

LARK.

I'd rather be a lark to rise,

When the sleep of night is done;
And higher, higher through the skies
Soar to the morning sun;
And clearer, sweeter, as I rise,

With rapture I would sing,
While diadems from heaven's own light

Would sparkle on my wings.

NIGHTINGALE.

I'd like to be a nightingale ;

She sings the sweetest song; The daylight gone, her voice is heard In tune the whole night long.

The stars look down from heaven's dome,

The pale moon rolls along;

And maybe angels live up there,

And listen to her song.

EAGLE.

Of all the birds that sing so sweet,
Or roam the air so free,

With pinions firm, and proud, and strong,
The eagle I would be;

On some high mount whose rugged peaks
Beyond the clouds do rest,
There, in the blaze of day, I'd find
My shelter and my rest.

DOVE.

The humming-bird's a pretty thing,
The lark flies very high,

The eagle's very proud and strong,
The nightingale sings lullaby ;

But, as I want a nature

That every one can love,

And would be gentle, mild, and sweet,

I think I'll be a dove.

CHICKADEE.

I'll tell you what I want to be,

A little, merry chickadee ;

In the storm and in the snow,
When the cold winds fiercely blow,
Not to mind the wintry blast,
Nor how long the storm may last,
Active, merry, blithe, and free,
This's the bird I'd like to be.

RESPONSE.

I do not want to be a bird,

And really had not you

Much rather be like all the birds,
And yet be children too?

The humming-bird, from bloom to bloom
Inhales the heavenly balm ;

So we from all may gather good,

And still reject the harm.

And, like the lark, our minds arise,

By inspirations given,

To bathe our souls, as she her wings,
In the pure light of heaven.
The nightingale sings all the night,
In sweet, harmonious lays;
So, in the night of sorrow, we

Should sing our Maker's praise.

The eagle, firm, and proud, and strong,

On his own strength relying,

Soars through the storm, the lightning's glare And thunders bold defying,

Till far above the clouds and storm,
High on some mountain crest,
He finds the sun's clear light at last,
And there he goes to rest.

Be ours a spirit firm and true,
Bold in the cause of right,
Ever steadily onward moving,
And upward to the light;
But still as gentle as the dove,
As loving and as true;
Every word and act be kindness,
All life's journey through;
Always thankful, happy, free;

Though life's tempests fiercely blow;

Cheerful as a chickadee

Flying through the wintry snow.

MYRA A. SHATTUCK.

MAGGIE READING HER TESTAMENT.

Mamma, when our Lord was a dear little child, Do you think he was loved as you love me? Do you think he played, and prattled, and smiled,

And loved to climb on his mother's knee?