the money from the little tin cup, drew on her old
shawl, and went out into the night.

'Twas a very happy Bobbie who went back to his home in the morning, and
behind Aunt Betsy's stove were the little worn shoes. A little later a
little old woman went down the narrow stairs to her work and she sang as
she went.

That night Aunt Betsy, hurrying past a florist's shop, bumped into a
barrel of waste that stood on the walk. Stopping abruptly, she saw a
wilted-looking plant in an old broken pot on the top of the pile.

"Why, you poor little plant," said Aunt Betsy. "I'll just take you home
and love you; perhaps you will grow for me in my little upper room."

So she carried it home, transplanted it into the old tin cup from which
she had taken the money, and then set it where the sunshine would find it
the very first thing in the morning.

In two days the plant showed signs of life. In a week it stood tall and
firm. In two weeks there was a bud which Aunt Betsy watched with great
care. Would it be pink or red or yellow? She didn't care if only it were a
blossom.

'Twas night when she came home from her work, but as soon as she opened
the door she knew that the little flower had opened, for the room was full
of the fragrance that it was sending forth. She hurried to the window and
she saw--oh, could she believe her eyes! She saw a little flower, white as
the driven snow. Its petals were heart-shaped and surrounded a heart of
wonderful gold. It was the White Flower of Happiness.

During the night, the little plant stayed with her in the attic room, but
in the morning she carried it to the palace and gave it to the King. Thus,
through a simple loving old woman, the White Flower of Happiness was given
to a whole kingdom.

But the strange thing about the plant was this: Whenever its owner kept
the flower only for self and did not share it with others, it withered and
died; but, when lovingly shared, it grew and blossomed and made happy, not
only its owner, but all to whom it went. It was in very truth to all--The
White Flower of Happiness.

THE SPEAKING PICTURE

There had been a great discussion in the High School all the week, and as
Friday drew nearer the excitement grew more and more intense. For Barton
High School had many girls from the Hill section of the town where the
mill owners lived, and also many girls from the River section where the
mill workers lived.

There was to be an election for the preside