Part 12 (2/2)

Now, the house was small where the cradle lay, As it swung in the winds by night and day; For a thicket of underbrush fenced it round, This lone little cot by the great sun browned.

This little nut grew, and ere long it found There was work outside on the soft, green ground; It must do its part, so the world might know It had tried one little seed to sow.

And soon the house that had kept it warm Was tossed about by the autumn storm; The stem was cracked, the old house fell, And the chestnut burr was an empty sh.e.l.l.

But the little nut, as it waiting lay, Dreamed a wonderful dream one day, Of how it should break its coat of brown, And live as a tree, to grow up and down.

_Anonymous._

MARJORIE'S ALMANAC

Robins in the tree-top, Blossoms in the gra.s.s, Green things a-growing Everywhere you pa.s.s; Sudden little breezes, Showers of silver dew, Black bough and bent twig Budding out anew; Pine-tree and willow-tree, Fringed elm and larch,-- Don't you think that May-time's Pleasanter than March?

Apples in the orchard Mellowing one by one; Strawberries upturning Soft cheeks to the sun;

Roses faint with sweetness, Lilies fair of face, Drowsy scents and murmurs Haunting every place; Lengths of golden suns.h.i.+ne, Moonlight bright as day,-- Don't you think that summer's Pleasanter than May?

Roger in the corn-patch Whistling negro songs; p.u.s.s.y by the hearth-side Romping with the tongs; Chestnuts in the ashes Bursting through the rind; Red leaf and gold leaf Rustling down the wind; Mother ”doin' peaches”

All the afternoon,-- Don't you think that autumn's Pleasanter than June?

Little fairy snow-flakes Dancing in the flue; Old Mr. Santa Claus, What is keeping you?

Twilight and firelight Shadows come and go;

Merry chime of sleigh-bells Tinkling through the snow; Mother knitting stockings (p.u.s.s.y's got the ball),-- Don't you think that winter's Pleasanter than all?

_Thomas Bailey Aldrich._

KRISS KRINGLE

Just as the moon was fading Amid her misty rings, And every stocking was stuffed With childhood's precious things,

Old Kriss Kringle looked around, And saw on the elm-tree bough, High hung, an oriole's nest, Lonely and empty now.

”Quite a stocking,” he laughed, ”Hung up there on a tree!

I didn't suppose the birds Expected a present from me!”

Then old Kriss Kringle, who loves A joke as well as the best, Dropped a handful of snowflakes Into the oriole's empty nest.

_Thomas Bailey Aldrich._

LITTLE BY LITTLE

”Little by little,” an acorn said, As it slowly sank in its mossy bed, ”I am improving every day, Hidden deep in the earth away.”

Little by little, each day it grew; Little by little, it sipped the dew; Downward it sent out a thread-like root; Up in the air sprung a tiny shoot.

Day after day, and year after year, Little by little the leaves appear; And the slender branches spread far and wide, Till the mighty oak is the forest's pride.

Far down in the depths of the dark blue sea, An insect train work ceaselessly.

Grain by grain, they are building well, Each one alone in its little cell.

Moment by moment, and day by day, Never stopping to rest or to play, Rocks upon rocks, they are rearing high, Till the top looks out on the sunny sky.

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