so long and so straight,
Are grow-ing in thou-sands for us!"

Thus cries, to the rest, lit-tle May;
And off to the mea-dow go all--
For nurse has just shown her the way
Of mak-ing a rush pa-ra-sol.

LU-CY AND AR-THUR.

The day was fine, the sun was hot,
So Lu-cy took her pail and spade,
And went to find a nice dry spot
Where wells and cas-tles might be made.

But all the shore just then was wet,
So Lu-cy took off shoes and socks;
She knew that nurse would fume and fret
If they got spoilt by sand or rocks.

But Ar-thur was so strong and big,
He thought that he was quite a man,
And he, in boots, would stand and dig,
Which proved a very fool-ish plan.

For soon his boots got wet and cold,
And hurt his feet, and made him cry;
He had to sit and hear nurse scold,
While both his boots were put to dry.

THE PRO-VI-DENCE OF GOD.

"The Lord shall give that which is good,
and our land shall yield her increase."--PSALM lxxxv. 12.

The seed was sown long months a-go,
And, through the win-ter's cold and snow,
We trust-ed that God's care would bring
The green and ten-der blade in spring,
Which che-rished by the sun and rain
Of sum-mer, now has yield-ed grain
In au-tumn, when the reap-er leaves
His cot to cut and bind the sheaves,
And load with them the nod-ding wain
Which bears them home-ward from the plain.

So God's great mer-cies thus a-bound;
His love still brings the sea-sons round;
His bless-ings fill our hap-py fields,
And all our land its in-crease yields:
So if we serve Him as we should,
Our Lord will give us all things good;
And He who doth the ra-vens feed
Much more will give us all we need!

[Illustration]

[Illustration: PLAY-ING A-MONG THE SHEAVES.]

PLAY-ING A-MONG THE SHEAVES.

Oh, who could there be
More mer-ry than we,
On this bright har-vest morn.
As we fro-lic and play,
While we hide a-way,
A-mong the sheaves of corn?

We may fro-lic still
Wher-e-ver we will,
But yet we must not tread
To waste with our feet
The grains of the wheat--
The wheat that makes our bread.

For God, as we need,
Gives the corn to feed
And make us well and strong;
And to waste in vain
His gift of the grain
Would grieve Him, and be wrong.

KEEP-ING SCHOOL.

Oh, tell me if e-ver you knew
A teach-er who looked so se-vere
As sis-ter Ma-ri-a can do,
When les-sons she's go-ing to hear?

Just look how she holds up her cane
And frowns, as