THE SONG OF THE MILL WHEEL

ROUND and round it goes,

As fast as water flows,

The dripping, dropping, rolling wheel That turns the noisy, dusty mill.

Round and round it goes,

As fast as water flows.

The dripping, dropping, rolling wheel That keeps on grinding golden meal. Turning all the day,

It never stops to play.

Sparkling in the sun,

The merry waters run

Upon the foaming, flashing wheel

That laugheth loud, but worketh still. Sparkling in the sun,

The merry waters run.

SELECTED.

Boats sail on the rivers,
Ships sail on the seas,

But the clouds that sail across the sky
Are prettier far than these.

There are bridges on the rivers,
As pretty as you please,

But the bow that bridges heaven,
And overtops the trees,

And builds a bridge from earth to sky
Is prettier far than these.

Christina G. Rossetti.

THE old apple

tree had stood

in the corner of the pasture for so

many years that no

one could tell when

it was planted.

It was a friendly old tree.

Under its branches men and ani

mals found pleasant shade. In the spring it gave blossoms to all that came, and in the fall it dropped apples at their feet.

The apple tree was easy to climb, as Dick well knew. From its top he could see the sloping hillside and the little brook that flowed through the pasture. Indeed, he spent so much time playing in the old tree that his father often said, "Well, Dick, has

the Apple-Tree Mother kept you out of mischief to-day???

And so Dick came to wonder a great deal about the Apple-Tree Mother.

The time of green apples had come, and all day long a hard wind had been blowing. When supper time came Dick was ill. Perhaps the apple tree could have told the reason. Dick was lying on the couch, and his mother was busy making a cup of tea for him.

After he had taken the hot and bitter drink he lay watching the steam that rose from the teakettle. Just as he was closing his eyes in sleep the steam began to turn from white to green. Then an apple tree grew up out of the teakettle and stretched its branches to the ceiling.

"That looks like the apple tree in the corner of our pasture," thought Dick.

And then he saw a woman sitting in the midst of the branches. She wore a dress that was green and brown, like the appletree leaves in the fall.

"I suppose that is the Apple-Tree Mother," said Dick to himself. "If she is as old as our tree, she must be very old indeed."

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Then the Apple-Tree Mother laughed and all the leaves of the tree danced. My little boy," she said, "I am so old that I have grown young again, and I bring with me pictures and stories of the world that has lived about my tree."

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"Pictures and stories!" exclaimed Dick. Oh, can't you show me some of them?" "That is just why I came to visit you," she said. Will you have pictures of ani

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mals or of flowers?"

"I would like to see pictures of animals first," said Dick.

Then the room changed to the corner of the

pasture. There was the fence and the brook Just above the fence,

and the old apple tree.