er, the swift-footed Mercury, and said, "Go quickly,
and do not return until you have found the treasure."

Mercury went as fast as the wind down to the earth. He soon came to the
forest and awakened the trees.

"Iris has lost her precious pot of gold that lies at the foot of the
rainbow. Have any of you seen it?" he asked.

The trees were very sleepy, but all shook their heads.

"We have not seen it," they said.

"Hold up your branches," said Mercury. "I must see that the pot of gold
is not hidden among them."

All of the trees held up their branches. The poplar that stood by the
path was the first to hold up his. He was an honest tree and knew he had
nothing to hide.

[Illustration: Mercury among the trees]

Down fell the pot of gold. How surprised the poplar tree was! He dropped
his branches in shame. Then he held them high in the air.

"Forgive me," he said. "I do not know how it came to be there; but,
hereafter, I shall always hold my branches up. Then every one can see
that I have nothing hidden."

Since then the branches have always grown straight up; and every one
knows that the poplar is an honest and upright tree.

--FLORA J. COOKE.

WHO LOVES THE TREES BEST?

Who loves the trees best?
"I," said the Spring;
"Their leaves so beautiful
To them I bring."

Who loves the trees best?
"I," Summer said;
"I give them blossoms,
White, yellow, red."

Who loves the trees best?
"I," said the Fall;
"I give luscious fruits,
Bright tints to all."

Who loves the trees best?
"I love them best,"
Harsh Winter answered;
"I give them rest."

--ALICE MAY DOUGLAS.

LEAVES IN AUTUMN

Red and gold, and gold and red,
Autumn leaves burned overhead;
Hues so splendid
Softly blended,
Oh, the glory that they shed!
Red and gold, and gold and red.

Gold and brown, and brown and gold,
Of such fun the west wind told
That they listened,
And they glistened,
As they wrestled in the cold;
Gold and brown, and brown and gold.

Brown and gold, and red and brown,
How they hurried, scurried down
For a frolic,
For a rolic,
Through the country and the town,
Brown and gold, and red and brown.

[Illustration: A bird in a tree]

A STORY OF BIRD LIFE

I

Once there came to our fields a pair of birds. They had never built a
nest nor seen a winter.

Oh, how beautiful was everything! The fields were full of f