Said Master Stork with a sapient smile,
"Are not their bills too slender
For gobbling frogs in these marshy bogs,
And are not their feet too tender
To wade like us? The troublesome elfs !
What are they doing, I wonder?
But we'll drive them out, with clatter
and shout,

Perhaps they may think it thunder.” The poor little birds that wanted a drink Were driven away by their betters, For the Storks were bold, and their family old,

And renowned in the world of letters. Whatever they did was sure to be right, Whatever their neighbours did, wrong. They clattered, and gobbled, and ate, and drank,

From the sunrise the whole day long, And bullied the birdlings, and plumed themselves,

And thought as they perched on a roof, "We're always welcome wherever we go, As the Turks have given us proof." But once on a time the hostile Greeks To punish the Storks, it is said, For building their nests on the Pagan

THE LADY-BIRD, THE SPIDER, AND THE WIND;

OR, DO AS YOU WOULD BE DONE BY.

A FABLE.

O HAT a plucky fellow you are neighbour," said a red lady-bird to a brown spider whowas swinging to and fro on a long gossamer thread. "I've been watching you this half-hour, and trying to find out what you are doing."

"Doing!" exclaimed the spider. "I'm trying to build a bridge, but that impudent little zephyr won't let me alone. Every time I get my web fastened he blows it away. But I'm not to be beaten," and the sturdy little fellow swung himself bravely towards the opposite hedge. He just missed it, and a sound of chuckling laughter told them that the zephyr was at his tricks again.

"Bravo!" shouted the lady-bird encouragingly. "You nearly did it that time."

"Nearly isn't quite," replied the spider, "and I won't give it up before I've finished it."

Once more he tried, but only to fail. "It's too bad," said his friend. "If I had that zephyr here I'd give him a piece of my mind.”

"Ha! ha!" cried a voice behind, and the dry leaf upon which the lady-bird was sitting was whirled along the dusty road. The little insect spread her wings and flew back again to her friend.

"I only wish I could pay that fellow out," she exclaimed angrily, "he's a teasing, tormenting--"

"Hush! hush!" said the spider. "You'll be sorry if you say that. As for paying back, that's not quite the right thing to do, is it?"

Right or wrong, I don't care," continued the irritated lady-bird; "I think he's "

But the spider was gone, and the next moment a faint "hurrah!" proclaimed that his work was accomplished.

"Done ! done!" he cried triumphantly he ran swiftly over his little bridge. "Now don't you think it was worth the trouble? Doesn't it look beautiful?"

And, indeed, as the sun shone upon the dew-drops with which it was studded it glittered like a thousand diamonds. The lady-bird joined in his admiration. While they were looking at it they were astonished to find the zephyr standing beside them.

I

"Look here, spider," he said, with rather a shame-faced countenance, "you're such a forgiving little chap that you make me feel quite mean. promise never to trouble you so again. Why didn't you call me hard names like lady-bird there?"

"Well, you see," replied the spider, "I thought of the Golden Rule, 'do as you would be done by,' and, as I don't like that sort of thing myself, I thought I'd better not."

ALICE M. STEVENS.

ticipated pleasure. But after I had put on my bonnet and gloves, and was just about to start, it began to rain very hard.

What did I care for rain? Not a bit. I could run between the drops, as we say. But my aunt, who was to go with me, was not in good health, and dared not venture. So, as the church was a long way off, and I was quite too small to be trusted alone, there was nothing for me to do but to take off my things and stay at home.

How I cried! The tears fell almost as fast as the drops outside, for I was bitterly disappointed.

Aunt Catherine was very sorry for me, I knew she was. She would have helped me if she could, but she could do nothing. She only stroked my hair and kissed me, and said tenderly, "Disappointments are good, dear."

Good! I didn't believe it! it seemed, on the contrary, very, very bad. But oh, how often I have thought of her words since. Many a bitter trial I have had since, and it seems always as if I heard a voice tenderer than hers, saying, Disappointments are good, dear."

DISAPPOINTMENTS.

HEN I was a child, I was all ready one evening to go to a Sunday School concert. This was a great treat to me, for I seldom went to an evening meeting, and I had been very happy all day in the an

THE TWO BUTTER

FLIES.

A FABLE.

AILY shone the sunlight over the green country meadows, and the daisies that nestled in the long

grass lifted up their faces as if to catch a glimpse of the blue sky that looked so bright and beautiful overhead. It was still early morning, and the breezes that get up before it is light to play in the woods with the rustling green leaves, had hardly finished their gambols. The air was cool and fresh, and everything in the great world of nature seemed full of life and happiness. Did I say everything? No, not everything; for in the corner of a field there lay, deserted and unnoticed, an empty shell. The little snail-like creature that once lived inside it had died and shrivelled up, leaving his empty house lying where he had last carried it. There it lay among the grass, with the golden sunlight shining down upon it, and very pretty it looked. Its outside was of a light yellow colour, with dark streaks of black and brown running all round it. The inside, was painted a delicate pink, with not a single spot on it, and polished as smooth as ivory. Presently a white butterfly came sailing along overhead, looking out for a flower from which he could get a sip of honey for breakfast.

His eyes

wandered over the field, and soon he espied the pretty yellow shell, and flew down to see what it was.

"What a funny-looking thing!" said he, as he perched on it and looked it over. "I wonder whom it belongs to! Strange, that I shouldn't have seen anything like it before!" (He had only come out of

his chrysalis-case that morning; but he had seen so many things already that he thought he had become acquainted with all the world: and, to tell the truth, he was rather proud of himself.) So he crawled round the edge of the shell, and peeped inside.

"How very pretty it looks!" he said, and his little black eyes grew quite big with wonder. "It would be such a capital place to hide in when the rain is falling and the winds blowing, and I could curl up my wings and go to sleep there at night."

"Could you, though?" said a voice behind him, and up came a great black admiral butterfly, with big white and crimson spots on his wings.

"Who spoke to you?" answered the white butterfly, raising his head and staring at the new-comer. "I don't want other people interfering with what belongs to me."

"What belongs to you, my friend?" "This hollow thing. I found it, and so it's mine."

'What-that shell?" said the black butterfly. "Ho! ho! ho!"

"Be off, will you!" exclaimed the other, getting into a passion. "I can't see there's anything to laugh at.”

"Gently, my friend," said the black butterfly again. "You need not make yourself uncomfortable. I am going to stop and see what you are going to do with your newly-found treasure.”

Having nothing particular to do, he was in a very teasing mood, and the white butterfly, who had never had anything to worry him before, did not feel inclined to put up with it.

"I told you to be off," he said; "and if you don't go away this moment you shall rue it."