WHAT CAN I DO?

66

What if a little ray of light,

Just starting from the sun,
Should linger in its downward flight!

Who'd miss the tiny one?

Perhaps the rose would be less bright,
'Twas sent to shine upon.

"What if the raindrop in the sky,
In listless ease should say,
I'll not be missed on earth, so I
Contented here will stay'?

Would not some lily, parched and dry,
Less fragrant be to-day?

"What if some acorn on the ground, Refused its shell to burst!

Where would the stately tree be found?, Or, if the humble dust

Refused the germ to nestle round,

What could the farmer trust?

"I am a child; it will not do, An idle life to lead,

Because I'm small and talents few;

Of me the Lord hath need, Some work or calling to pursue, Or do some humble deed.

"I must be active every hour,
And do my Maker's will;
If but a ray can paint the flower,
A raindrop swell the rill,

I know in me there is a power
Some humble place to fill."

4. THE DISCONTENTED PINE TREE.

Through

In a forest stood a little tree. good and bad weather it held its place among its neighbor trees. But all this time it had needles instead of leaves. These needles all had sharp points.

The little tree grew impatient, and spoke thus to itself: "All my companions have beautiful leaves, whereas I have only needles. No one cares for me. If I dared

to make a wish for what I want, it would be for leaves of pure gold."

When night came, the little tree slept as usual, but awoke very early in the morning. Behold! it had beautiful golden leaves! What a sight that was!

The little tree said, "Now I am happy. No other tree in the forest has golden leaves."

When evening came, an old peddler with a great sack over his shoulder went through the forest.

Soon he saw the golden leaves.

He gathered them all, thrust them into his sack, and hastened away, leaving the little tree bare. How strange it looked!

Then the tree spoke with great sorrow: "The golden leaves were only a grief to me. I am ashamed of myself before the other trees; their foliage is so bright and beautiful. If I dared again to wish for something, it would be to have leaves of clear glass."

Then again the little tree slept, and

again did it awake early. Behold! it had leaves of shining glass! Such a wonder!

"Now I am indeed happy," said the little tree. "No other tree in the forest glistens as I do."

Then the weather became angry and a great whirlwind arose. It passed swiftly through all the trees and came to the leaves of glass. They fell with a crash, and there they lay in the grass, broken in pieces.

With tears the little tree spoke again: My glass leaves are all in pieces.

"The other trees kept their green foliage. Indeed, when I wish again it shall be for green leaves."

Then the little tree slept again. When it awoke, behold, it had fine, green leaves. How beautiful it was!

Then the little tree laughed, and said: "Now I have leaves that will not make me ashamed."

Just then a mother goat came bounding through the forest in search of grass and

leaves for her little ones to feed upon. She saw the little tree's leaves so fresh and green, and looking no farther she and her kids devoured them all.

Then was the little tree again in grief. It spoke now to itself: "I now wish for no more leaves, neither green nor red nor golden. Had I only my needles I would complain no more."

In sorrow slept the little tree and in sadness did it awake. But as soon as it looked at itself in the sunlight it shook its needles and laughed aloud. The other trees in the forest looked at it in surprise, but the little tree never told them that it had been dreaming.