g while were wet days, and she feared she
would never have a chance of wearing her pretty white dress. But at last
there came a fete day morning that was bright and sunny, and then the
little girl clapped her hands and ran upstairs, and took her new frock
(which had been her "new frock" for so long a time that it was now the
oldest frock she had) from the box where it lay neatly folded between
lavender and thyme, and held it up, and laughed to think how nice she
would look in it.

But when she went to put it on, she found that she had out-grown it, and
that it was too small for her every way. So she had to wear a common old
frock after all.

Things happen that way, you know, in this world. There were a boy and
girl once who loved each other very dearly. But they were both poor, so
they agreed to wait till he had made enough money for them to live
comfortably upon, and then they would marry and be happy. It took him a
long while to make, because making money is very slow work, and he
wanted, while he was about it, to make enough for them to be very happy
upon indeed. He accomplished the task eventually, however, and came back
home a wealthy man.

Then they met again in the poorly-furnished parlour where they had
parted. But they did not sit as near to each other as of old. For she
had lived alone so long that she had grown old-maidish, and she was
feeling vexed with him for having dirtied the carpet with his muddy
boots. And he had worked so long earning money that he had grown hard
and cold like the money itself, and was trying to think of something
affectionate to say to her.

So for a while they sat, one each side of the paper "fire-stove
ornament," both wondering why they had shed such scalding tears on that
day they had kissed each other good-bye; then said "good-bye" again, and
were glad.

There is another tale with much the same moral that I learnt at school
out of a copy-book. If I remember rightly, it runs somewhat like this:--

Once upon a time there lived a wise grasshopper and a foolish ant. All
through the pleasant summer weather the grasshopper sported and played,
gambolling with his fellows in and out among the sun-beams, dining
sumptuously each day on leaves and dew-drops, never troubling about the
morrow, singing ever his one peaceful, droning song.

But there came the cruel winter, and the grasshopper, looking around, saw
that his friends, the flowers, lay dead, and knew thereby that