o the image; 'the Nymphs have
loved me, and I can see love in your eyes'; which, of course, he did,
for he did not know he was gazing at his own reflection.

"At last he pined away and died, and in the place of his body was found
a beautiful flower, with soft white petals, nodding to its reflection
in the water.

"The Daffodils are also my cousins," the Jonquil explained, "and
descend from the beautiful Narcissus."

"That is a very pretty story," said Martha, "and the fate of Narcissus
should teach all vain people a lesson."

The Tiger Lily told her story next.

"Mine is not a love story," she said; "it is about something I saw in
far-off China before I bloomed here.

"In that land little girls are not so happy as they are here because
the boys are the pride of the family.

"One day a poor beggar who was faint from hunger and thirst lay down
close beside where I bloomed. He groaned aloud in his misery, and a
little girl who was passing heard him. She came to him and gave him
water from a near-by stream and bathed his face. When he was refreshed
he asked, 'Who are you, and how did you happen to be here?'

"'I am only a miserable daughter on her way to the mission,' she
replied. 'My father is very poor and can provide only for his sons.
If I can reach the mission they will take me in and I shall be taught
many things.'

"The beggar only shook his head; he did not believe that a girl was
worth even thanking, and that anyone should bother to teach her was
past his belief, and so the little girl passed on.

"I am telling you this story," said the Tiger Lily, "that you may know
how much good your pennies do that you drop into the missionary box,
for you see by the kind act of that little girl the Chinese girls are
worth saving, for they are kind and good and grow up to be a blessing
to their country."

"What became of the beggar?" asked Martha.

"The little girl reached the mission," the Lily said, "and they sent
some one from there to take the beggar away. Very likely the
missionaries took care of him."

"I am glad you told me that story," said Martha. "I shall try to save
more pennies now to send to the little girls in China."

The Tulip spoke next.

"I am afraid," she said, "that my story will not be very interesting,
but I don't suppose that many people know that I bloomed long ago in
Constantinople, the city of beautiful hills, where the mosques and the
tombs and the fountains make a strange pic