em for us!" cried Ruth. "No one could do
it better."

And so, on the morning of grandmother's birthday, as she sat in her
large armchair, with her own pussy on a stool at her side, the "Four
Seasons" entered the room, one after another, and formed a semicircle
in front of her. Grandmother was not a bit frightened. She smiled
kindly; and then the "Seasons" spoke as follows:--

[Illustration: Celebrating Grandmother's Birthday]

SPRING.

I am the Spring: with sunshine see me coming;
Birds begin to twitter; hark! the bees are humming:
Green to field and hillside, blossoms to the tree,
Joy to every human heart are what I bring with me.

SUMMER.

See my wealth of flowers! I'm the golden Summer:
Is there for the young or old a more welcome comer?
Come and scent the new-mown grass; by the hillside stray;
And confess that only June brings the perfect day.

AUTUMN.

Mark the wreath about my head,--wreath of richest flowers;
I am Autumn, and I bring mildest, happiest hours;
In my hand a goblet see, which the grape-juice holds;
Corn and grain and precious fruits, Autumn's arm enfolds.

WINTER.

Round my head the holly-leaf; in my hand the pine:
I am Winter cold and stern; these last flowers are mine.
But while I am left to rule, all's not dark or sad;
Christmas comes with winter-time to make the children glad.

ALL THE SEASONS.

Here our offerings glad we bring,
And long life to Grandma sing.

EMILY CARTER.

[Illustration: Hummingbirds and Fruit]

THE LITTLE CULPRIT.

School had begun. The boys and girls were in their places, and the
master was hearing them spell; when all at once there was a soft, low
knock at the door.

"Come in!" said the master; and a little cleanly-dressed girl, about six
years old, stood upon the threshold, with downcast eyes.

She held out before her, as if trying to hide behind it, a satchel, so
large that it seemed hard to decide whether the child had brought it, or
it had brought the child; and the drops on her cheeks showed how she had
been running.

"Why, Katie!" cried the schoolmaster, "why do you come so late? Come
here to me, little culprit. It is the first time you have been late.
What does it mean?"

Little Katie slowly approached him, while her chubby face grew scarlet.
"I--I had to pick berries," she faltered, biting her berry-stained lips.

"O Katie!" said the master, raisin