rted in style by asparagus shoots.
Lace curtains of spider webs, hung o'er the doors,
And bumble bee skins were the rugs on the floors,
Their dishes were all from the button weed made,
Their knives and their forks from the tiny grass blade,
Corn silk for their cushions, thistledown for a bed,
"Our home will be royal," they boastingly said.
They caught a black cricket and hollowed him out,
For a crib the sweet baby must have, without doubt,
And the cricket, his life, ought gladly to give,
For "something must die, that others may live."
But why should I tell you the wonderful way
They furnished and finished their house the next day?
They sent invitations to their four hundred friends--
"At Home--after sunset until the night ends."
But plans that are made for ends of our own,
May steal our sweet plums and leave us the stone.
Next day as the gardener walked down through the rows
Pressing down the soft earth here and there with his toes,
He found that the turnip looked worse than before--
And grimly he smiled, for he saw the top door,
That the Fairies forgot in their hurry last night
To close with the curtains, and fasten down tight,
So stooping, he gathered the leaves dry and dead,
Gave a vigorous pull, and away o'er his head
He sent it a-flying--Poor Fairies, good-bye--
"That something may live, you know, something must die."

[Illustration: "A REVERIE"]

A Reverie

Standing to-night beside their little bed,
All richly hung with tapestry and lace,
I look half sadly down upon my treasures there,
My boys, so full of innocence and grace,
My little lambs, safe folded for the night,
Caught by the god of slumber unaware.
The sturdy lad's soft cheek close pressed
Against his baby brother's, soft and fair;
The smile is still upon the boy's red mouth.
On baby's face the roguish dimples lie;
The curls of brown, the shining rings of gold,
Like sun and shadow tremble as I sigh--
Sigh that so much of innocence and grace
So soon must leave a mother's tender care--
So soon the hurrying years crowd on apace,
And bring to each of toil and pain his share.
To-day, when poisoned breath from lips profane,
Blown harshly from the busy street below,
Entered my safe retreat, and brought
Quick to my side the lad, his cheeks aglow,
His hazel eyes with wonder wide met mine;
I could not speak--I stooped and kissed his hand.
Th