"I know it's To Let -I've seen the sign-
But it won't be long untaken;
The wonder is that so sweet a place
Should ever have been forsaken.'

"A thousand thanks,' said the Bee in haste,

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And if you'll excuse my hurry, I'll go and secure the house at once, Before there's a rush and flurry.'

So off he flew toward Marigold Street
(The way was not long, not hilly),
But just as he passed the pinks, he saw
A little girl pick the lily.

"The only house he could find to rent!
And this is the pitiful reason

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Why out on a cold, bare clover leaf
He slept the rest of the season.

You call this story too sad to tell?
Perhaps it is; but it teaches

A little rule to the little heart

Of each little girl it reaches.

"And the rule is this: When the spring

time comes,

And the nights are damp and chilly, Be very sure that it's not To Let, Before you gather a lily."

WAITING TO GROW.

Little white snowdrop, just waking up,
Violet, daisy, and sweet buttercup!
Think of the flowers that are under the

snow,

Waiting to grow!

"And think what hosts of queer little seeds, Of flowers and mosses, of ferns and of

weeds,

Are under the leaves and under the snow, Waiting to grow!

"Think of the roots getting ready to sprout,

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Reaching their slender brown fingers

about,

Under the ice and the leaves and the

snow,

Waiting to grow!

Only a month or a few weeks more
Will they be waiting behind that door;
Listen and watch, for they are below,
Waiting to grow!

"Nothing so small, or hidden so well,
That God will not find it, and very soon

tell

His sun where to shine and his rain where

to go,

To help them to grow!"

3. TILLY'S CHRISTMAS.

THE DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS.

As three little girls trudged home from school, they were heard talking.

"I am so glad to-morrow is Christmas, because I shall get so many presents."

"So am I glad, although I expect nothing but a pair of mittens."

"And so am I; but I shall have no presents."

As Tilly spoke the others looked at her with pity, and with some surprise too, for she spoke cheerfully. They wondered how she could be happy, if she were so poor that she could have no presents on Christmas.

"Don't you wish you could find a purse full of money right here in the path?" said Kate, the girl who was going to have many presents.

Oh, don't I, if I could keep it honestly?" and Tilly's eyes brightened at the thought.

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What would you buy?" asked Bessie, rubbing her cold hands, and wishing for her mittens.

"I would buy a pair of large, warm blankets, a load of wood, a shawl for mother, and a pair of shoes for myself."

"Let us look. Maybe we can find a

purse. People are always going about with money at Christmas time. Some one may lose money here," said Kate.

As they went along the snowy road they looked about them, half in earnest, half in fun. Suddenly Tilly sprang forward, exclaiming,

"I see it! I've found it!"

The others followed, but stopped, disappointed. It was not a purse, it was only a little bird. It lay upon the snow with its wings spread, but too weak to fly. Its little feet were stiff with cold, its once bright eyes were dull with pain. Instead of a gay song it could only give a faint chirp now and then, as if crying for help.

Nothing but a stupid old robin!

cried Kate, sitting down to rest.

"I shall not touch it. I found one once and took care of it. As soon as it was

well it flew away, without even saying "Thank you,' "" said Bessie.

"Poor little birdie! How pitiful he