pering: "Spring is here, and it is time to awake!"

Then, at last, the little caterpillar did awake. He slowly broke away
his old dried skin and the silk fastenings which he had spun so many
months before, and he crawled out in the sunshine, wet and still drowsy
after his long sleep. After a while he became warm and dry, and wide
awake in the bright sunlight, and then, suddenly, he felt that he had
wings! He looked in a rain-drop mirror, and there he saw himself a
beautiful butterfly.

Don't you think he must have been very proud and happy, as he spread his
wings and flew away to sip the honey from the flowers, and to play with
all the other butterflies, knowing that he would never again have to
crawl about on the ground?

"Oh! Mother dear," said Johnnie Jones, "let's take this caterpillar
home, so I can watch it turn into a butterfly."

Mother considered his idea a good one, so they carried the caterpillar
home on a twig, with many leaves from the tree towards which it had been
crawling. When they reached the house they placed twigs, leaves and
caterpillar in a glass jar, with netting over the top.

"We shall have to give it fresh leaves every day," Mother said, "until
it has eaten enough and goes to sleep. We can watch it carefully through
this glass jar."

Johnnie Jones knelt down beside the jar and whispered: "Ugly little
caterpillar, if you will tie yourself to that branch, and change your
skin, and go to sleep, next spring you will wake a beautiful butterfly."

[Illustration: When he spread his wings and flew away--]

Johnnie Jones was sure the caterpillar heard what he said, because
it went to sleep just as it was told. All winter long the little boy
watched it, and one day, in the early spring, really saw it come out
a gorgeous butterfly. When it spread its bright wings and flew away,
I wonder which was happier, the butterfly or Johnnie Jones.

* * * * *

Mr. and Mrs. Bird and the Baby Birds

"Listen to that bird!" exclaimed Johnnie Jones.

"That is Mr. Bird," Mother answered. "I shall have to tell you a story
about him and Mrs. Bird and their children."

Once upon a time Mr. Bird felt so happy and gay that he could scarcely
be quiet a single moment. It was spring-time again and he sang beautiful
songs to Mrs. Bird, about the sunshine and soft, sweet air, and about
the little home they would make in the old elm tree. Mrs. Bird would
listen for a while to his