.

TOUCH NOT.

Touch not the tempting cup, my boy,
Though urged by friend or foe;
Dare, when the tempter urges most,
Dare nobly say, No--no!
The joyous angel from on high
Shall tell your soul the reason why.

Touch not the tempting cup, my boy;
In righteousness be brave;
Take not the first, a single step,
Towards a drunkard's grave;
The widow's groan, the orphan's sigh,
Shall tell your soul the reason why.

[Illustration: {Two girls, their arms full of flowers and foliage}]

CHILDREN.

What could we without them,
Those flowers of life?
How bear all the sorrows
With which it is rife?
As long as they blossom,
Whilst brightly they bloom,
Our own griefs are nothing,
Forgotten our gloom.

We joy in the sunshine--
It sheds on them light;
We welcome the shower--
It makes them more bright;
On our pathway of thorns
They are thrown from above,
And they twine round about us,
And bless us with love.

Bright, beautiful flowers,
So fresh and so pure!
How could we without them
Life's troubles endure?
So guileless and holy,
Such soothers of strife,
What could we without them,
Sweet flowers of life?

THE WHITE BUTTERFLY.

A TALE FOR CHILDREN.

Very slowly and wearily over road and hedge flew a white butterfly one
calm May evening; its wings had been torn and battered in its flight
from eager pursuers, who little cared that their pleasure was
another's pain. On, on, went the fugitive, until it came to a little
garden so sweet and quiet that it rested from its flight and said,
"Here, at least, I shall find peace; these gentle flowers will give me
shelter." Then, with eager swiftness, it flew to a stately peony. "Oh,
give me shelter, thou beautiful flower!" it murmured as it rested for
a second upon its crimson head--a second only, for, with a jerk and an
exclamation of disgust, the peony cast the butterfly to the ground.
With a low sigh it turned to the pansy near. Well, the pansy _wished_
to be kind, but the butterfly was really very tattered and dirty; and
then velvet soils so easily that she must beg to be excused. The
wall-flower, naturally frank and good-natured, had been so tormented
all day by those troublesome bees that she solemnly vowed she would do
nothing more for anybody.

The tulips were asleep;