A RAINY DAY.

It was the day set for the picnic by the lake. Two little white gowns, and the boys' best coats, and the ribbons and the neck-ties, had been joyfully laid out the night before.

But next morning it was not picnic weather. The sky was low and heavy.

By nine o'clock there were thick, dense, black clouds.

"I think we might go," said Flossie, "even if it does rain. We go to school, lots o' days, when it rains."

Just then the big black raindrops fell upon the window-panes--"A great pailful in every drop," said Tom.

"I want a picnic," wailed Susie, "and I can't have it."

"You shall have it," said papa; "we will have an indoors picnic, such as my papa used to give me on a rainy day."

He led the way to the library. He took down a huge set of maps, a great portfolio of engravings, and two or three heavy picture books.

"We will visit India," said he.

"Hurrah," said Tom. "Tiger hunts, elephant rides, jungles, snake charmers, jolly old idols, and the Pa.r.s.ee merchants."

Tom knew very well what it meant when papa gave his mind up to turning over picture books and talking as he turned.

They did have a good time; and before three o'clock it cleared away, and though it was too late for the picnic they had planned, it was the most perfect picnic weather, and as papa wanted to trim up cedars on the knoll by the lake, they all went down. Papa and mamma played with them for a while like an older brother and sister. They harnessed the children in a "four-horse team," and drove up and down until the "little colts" had had enough of fun and were glad to sit in the arbor and watch papa trim trees.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A PICNIC AFTER ALL.]

THE STORY OF A CANE.

Was it a shiny black cane with a gold head? No. I think you never saw a cane like this one. It was made out of a small balm-of-Gilead-tree.

It belonged to John Reed. He taught school. He was eighteen years old.

When vacation came, John walked home. It was forty miles, and a pretty long walk. But there were no railroads in those days, and John did not like to ride in a stage-coach.

He thought he could walk more easily with a cane to help him. So he made this cane I am going to tell you about.

When he got home he stuck this cane into the ground in the lane, and then forgot all about it. But the cane was alive! When John stuck it into the ground it began to drink up the water from the soil.

Tiny green leaves sprouted out all over it. John saw it one day. How surprised he was! It grew all summer long. The next year the branches began to grow; and year by year it grew larger and larger till it was fifty years old.

Then John Reed was sixty-eight years old; the little children called him "Grandpa Reed."

[Ill.u.s.tration: GRANDPA REED.]

They called the great balm-of-Gilead-tree in the lane "Grandpa's cane." They used to like to put their arms about it and look up into the branches. They thought it wonderful that a cane should grow into such a big tree.

Then came the great Civil War. Your mamma or auntie can tell you about it. There were a great many wounded soldiers, and the people used to send bandages and lint for their wounds. Do you know what lint is? It is made of linen cloth. It is soft, like wool.

Grandpa Reed had a little granddaughter Clara. Clara saw the women and girls making lint, and she wanted to make lint too. But aunt Mary said she was not big enough to make lint.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CLARA.]

"But I will tell you," said aunt Mary, "where you can find some nice lint;" and she took her out to the great balm-of-Gilead-tree in the lane.

Now you have all seen the soft, white p.u.s.s.y-willows. Well, the p.u.s.s.ies are the willow flowers; and the balm-of-Gilead-tree has p.u.s.s.ies too.

But they are not soft and white; they are brown. They look like brown caterpillars.

After the blossoms wither the seeds come. These seeds are covered with wool like that on the dandelion's ball.

The wind blows this wool from off the trees, and there it was that morning. The ground was white with it.

"There is the lint," said aunt Mary, and she gave Clara a bag to put it in.

It took a great many bits of wool to fill the bag. But Clara was patient, and worked diligently, and when the bag was full, she went with aunt Mary to carry it to the soldiers' camp.

Clara gave it to the surgeon. He said the balm-of-Gilead lint was much better than the linen lint. So "Grandpa's cane" and little Clara helped the sick soldiers to get well again.

MISS LOLLIPOP'S FANCIES.

Down by the seash.o.r.e Miss Lollipop sat, Dropping the little white sh.e.l.ls in her hat; "See!" cried the darling, and shouted with glee, "These pretty things were all waiting for me; Waiting for me!"

Creeping and curving across the gray sand, The wavelets came dancing to kiss the fair land, Wooing with murmurs the flower-gemmed lea; "Ah," cried Miss Pops, "they are whispering to me, Whispering to me!"

Darting and flashing the gay sunbeams flew Down from a heaven of midsummer blue, Smiling and dimpling all over the sea; "There," cried Miss Pops, "they are laughing at me, Laughing at me!"

In the green meadows the tall gra.s.s stood fair, Waving and tossing in sweet summer air, Dipping and bending around her white knee; "Look," cried Miss Pops, "it is bowing to me, Bowing to me!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: HAPPY MISS LOLLIPOP.]

Over the hills the sweet flower bells rang, High in the tree tops the little birds sang.

--Tipsy-top bobolinks bent on a spree; "Hark!" cried Miss Pops. "They are singing to me, Singing to me!"

Deep in the roses the b.u.mblebees flew, Sipping their rations of honey and dew, With jewel-necked humming-birds gorgeous to see; "Now," cried Miss Pops, "they are shining for me, Shining for me!"

Sweet little Happy Heart! Pure little soul!

Earth would be robbed of its darkness and dole If with the faith of thy heart I could see How much of G.o.d's world is fashioned for me!