Literal
THE children in a certain country school had been to the woods for flowers. On the way back the teacher found it getting late, but the children were tired and lagged a little in walking.
"Children," she said, resorting to a little device for getting them along faster, "let's play we are going to take the eleven-o'clock train for New York, and must walk quickly."
The little folks thought this was great fun and hurried on. Very soon Miss K——— noticed one little girl dropping behind. "Why, Helen," she said. "I'm afraid you'll miss the train."
Quickly the response came: "Don't wait for me, Miss K———; I think I'll take the next one."
A Fish Story
LITTLE Walter lives in an inland town, and knew very little about fish until he went to visit his uncle, who lives on Lake Superior. One day a string of white-fish was brought to the house, and Walter was filled with wonder and surprise at their appearance.
"Why, Uncle John, what funny skin these fish have!" he exclaimed. "It is put on in rows, just like the shingles on our house. I s'pose it is made that way so that the water won't leak inside."
Arrived Earlier
A KINDERGARTNER in an Eastern city had just related to a group of children the story of the Pilgrims.
At the close of the narration, one of the children said, "One of my ancestors came over on the Mayflower." "Well," said Tom, "none of my ancestors came over on the Mayflower. They were in Springfield."
The Toad and the Bat—A Fable
A TOAD and Bat discovered, on a high board fence near by,
A freshly painted numeral—the paint was scarcely dry.
The Toad, to show his knowledge, which he thought was rather fine,
Declared with greatest promptitude that it was number nine.
The Bat, no less pedantic, claimed, with equal confidence,
That it was plainly number six, inscribed upon the fence.
And so they argued long and hard, but never could agree—
The Toad upon the ground, the Bat suspended from a tree.
Then this remember, gentle folk, before you speak or act:
The point of view is frequently important as the fact.
Sanctuary
MY mother takes me in her bed
When I'm afraid at night.
And holds me in her nice, safe arms
All warm, and snug, and tight;
And says there's not a single thing
For little boys to fear
In day or night, because there's God
Who's always very near.
I know He is . . . but then, somehow
When it's so dark, I do
Just love to hold my mother's hand,
And hug and kiss her too.
L. M. S.
