the whole tribe of industrious little people
went to another field where wild roses and lilies, dripping with
nectar, grew.

At first the lazy pygmies did not even miss their kind little
neighbors. They danced, and sang, and played again through all the
long, bright summer days. When it grew cold, and they had to hide
themselves to escape the frost and had no food, they said,

"What does it matter? Our friends will come back to us soon with
supplies for the winter."

It was too long a journey, though, for the little workers to take
through the snow. The days grew more and more cold, and storms swept
the earth. The lazy little people cried out in their hunger to the
manito, the spirit who watched all outdoors, to come and help them.

So the manito came, but first he went to the industrious tribe of
little folk to reward them.

"You shall have wings," the manito said, "to take you from flower to
flower that you may gather honey with ease. You shall be called honey
bees, and, as you fly, you shall hum so that mortals may hear you and
take pattern from your industry. All your life long, you shall live on
honey."

Then the manito visited the lazy pygmies. "You, too, shall have
wings," he said, "but they shall be to carry you away as mortals drive
you from place to place. You shall have buzzing voices to tell mortals
you are near that they may kill you. Your food shall be only that
which is thrown away. You are the despised flies."

And ever since then the bees have gathered honey, and the flies have
been killed in memory of the day when one tribe of little people was
busy and kind, and the other tribe indolent and selfish.

BIRTHDAYS

THE BIRTHDAY PRESENT

One afternoon, as Mother sat out on the long porch paring apples, the
children came running in. There were Cousin Pen, who was visiting at
the farm, and Brother Fred, and little Ben, and they all began to talk
at the same time.

"To-morrow is Grandmother's birthday," they cried. "What can we give
her for a birthday present?"

"I think a silk dress would be nice if we had enough money to buy it,"
said Cousin Pen.

"Let's give her a watermelon, the biggest one we can find," said
Brother Fred.

"Or one of the new kittens; Grandmother likes cats," said little Ben.

"A roll of fresh butter, as yellow as gold and as sweet as clover,"
said Mother, "if you will do the churning yourselves."

"Oh, yes, we will churn," promised the children, and they ran