Past an iceberg grim and tall, and a great,
white polar bear.

She rowed 'way out on the Daisy Sea, with
a really-truly oar,
Till she came to an island castle, where she
brought her boat ashore.
She entered the castle boldly, and--wonderful
sight to see!--
She had rowed straight home to the dining-room
and the table spread for tea.

HANNAH G. FERNALD.

APPLE-TREE INN

It stands by the roadside, cool-shuttered and high,
With cordial welcome for all who pass by;
And here's how you enter--you make a quick dash
And scale the steep stair with a bound, in a flash.
You cross the clean threshold and find you a chair.
There's room for all comers and plenty to spare.
You can rock, you can rest, happy lodging you win
Who stop for an hour at Apple-tree Inn.

The walls and the roof and the ceiling are green,
With rifts of light blue that are painted between.
The seats are upholstered in brown and dark gray,
And yet, for it all, not a penny to pay.
Then, when you are hungry, the table is spread
With fare that is dainty, delicious, and red.
Oh, hurry and come if you never have been
A guest in your travels at Apple-tree Inn!

NANCY BYRD TURNER.

AN OUTDOOR GIRL

The wind and the water and a merry little girl--
Her yellow hair a-blowing and her curls all out of curl,
Her lips as red as cherries and her cheeks like any rose,
And she laughs to see the little waves come curling round her toes.

The breezes a-blowing and the blue sky overhead,
A laughing little maiden,--and this is what she said:
"Oh, what's the use of houses? I think it is a sin
To take a lot of boards and bricks and shut the outdoors in!"

[Illustration: An Outdoor Girl]

THE BEDTIME STORY-BOOK

There's something very, very queer
About a story-book,
No matter what's the time of year,
Nor where you chance to look;

No matter when it is begun,
How many pages read,
The very best of all the fun
Comes just the time for bed,

When mother whispers in your ear:
"'Tis almost eight--just look!
Now finish up your chapter, dear,
And put away your book."

The minutes almost seem to race
When it is growing late;
The very most exciting place
Is just half after eight.

[Illustration: The Bedtime Story-Book]

THE BROWNIES

The little Bad Luck Brownies,
They cry and pout and frown;
Th