dheart. "I heard
that tune once before when I was a boy," he said. "It makes me well to
hear it now. What is it about, lad?"

"It is about the spring, your majesty," said Gladheart. "It is the
song that I learned from the fields when winter was over. If your
majesty will come with me to my sheep pasture, you may hear it there
every day."

No one could understand why the King was suddenly so well or why he
went often to sit with Gladheart and the sheep, but they were all very
happy over it. And they gave Gladheart the riches and the honor that
they had promised whoever could heal their King.

THE EASTER STORY

It was late in the fall when Fuzzy Caterpillar gave up.

"I suppose this is the end of me," he thought in his little round head
as he tried to wriggle across the road and couldn't because his back
was so stiff. "Now I am an old man and I shall never see another
summer. Good-bye." And Fuzzy Caterpillar rolled himself up in a gray
blanket and hung himself on the end of a dried twig. "This is the last
of me," he said once more as the dried little grub he now was rattled
around in the cold.

All his beautiful furry coat was scattered to the winds. The path he
had made in the dust grew narrower as it wound across the road. That
was because Fuzzy Caterpillar had shrivelled as he crawled. Poor Fuzzy
Caterpillar, who had so loved the Out-Doors!

The winter was white, and cold, and long. Then it was over, just as
all winters are over at last, and Spring came. Spring came over the
hills, in a pretty new green frock and with wild flowers in her hair.
Sometimes she looked up at the sky, but oftener she looked down at
the ground. Spring was looking for the little creatures that she loved
so much; the tiny ants, the patient spiders, the cheerful beetles, and
Fuzzy Caterpillar.

"Where is Fuzzy Caterpillar?" Spring wondered. She did not see him,
all dried up and hanging in his gray blanket from the twig.

"Of course Fuzzy Caterpillar is here somewhere," Spring said to
herself. "And wouldn't it be nice to celebrate the day he comes out
with some kind of a surprise?" The more Spring thought about this, the
happier she was, and the nicer she thought it would be. So she spoke
to the grass about it.

"Long Green Grasses," called Spring, "I want to make Out-Doors pretty,
and celebrate the day that Fuzzy Caterpillar comes out. Will you cover
the ground for me?"

So the Long Green Grasses pushed their slender finge