wrong he did,
Does the wrong thing still.

Whichever way the wind doth blow,
Some heart is glad to have it so;
Then blow it east or blow it west,
The wind that blows, that wind is best.

We should make the same use of books that the
bee does of a flower: he gathers sweets from
it, but does not injure it.

I smile, and then the Sun comes out;
He hides away whene'er I pout;
He seems a very funny sun,
To do whatever he sees done.
And when it rains he disappears;
Like me, he can't see through the tears.
Now isn't that the reason why
I ought to smile and never cry?
--F. D. SHERMAN

If fortune, with a smiling face,
Strew roses in our way,
When shall we stoop to pick them up?
To-day, my friend, to-day.
If those who've wronged us own their faults,
And kindly pity pray,
When shall we listen and forgive?
To-day, my friend, to-day.

Are you almost disgusted with life, little man?
I will tell you a wonderful trick
That will bring you contentment if anything can--
Do something for somebody, quick.
Are you very much tired with play, little girl?
Weary, discouraged, and sick?
I'll tell you the loveliest game in the world--
Do something for somebody, quick.

"Were it not for me",
Said a chickadee,
"Not a single flower on earth would be;
For under the ground they soundly sleep,
And never venture an upward peep,
Till they hear from me,
Chickadee-dee-dee!"
--SIDNEY DAYRE

The world at noon belongs to the sun,
At eve to the home-coming herds;
But while the dew is early--very, very early--
The world belongs to the birds.
As still as in a dream lie the meadows and the stream,
'Neath the soaring and outpouring of the birds.
--WETHERALD

I know, blue modest violets,
Gleaming with dew at morn--
I know the place you come from,
And the way that you are born!
When God cuts holes in Heaven,
The holes the stars look through,
He lets the scrap