ken properly.

* * * * *

The summer days sped fast, for Father Time's scythe is never idle, and
he was gradually, though slowly, mowing down the flowers which had
garlanded the sunny hours. The leaves once so green were changing now,
assuming their glowing autumn tints, whilst some would fall fluttering
to the ground with a gentle sigh of weariness, as the cold winds were
rustling by. Then the stern northern gale came sweeping along,
proclaiming to the forest trees that winter was on her way; and a
shudder would pass through their sturdy branches when they heard the
tidings, for they feared her chill, icy breath.

The bees took refuge in their well-stored hives, the ants had barred
their outer doors, and retired to their most secluded apartments; even
the garden spider was sheltered in his home--only the once gay butterfly
was homeless and friendless.

'Shelter me, shelter me, dear Honeysuckle,' moaned the shivering insect,
coming back to the old home in the day of his sorrow. 'I am so cold, so
weary!'

'Poor thing!' the tender flower exclaimed, with the utmost pity,
forgetting now all former slights. 'Creep under my leaves, perhaps they
may shield you. But your beautiful wings, how came they so torn and
colourless?'

'The pitiless storm last night fell upon me and crushed me to the earth
in its fury,' he answered, with difficulty, for he was so feeble. ''Tis
true the gleams of sunshine to-day have revived me a little; but alas! I
am dying! my brief day is over, and there is no one to give me a refuge
save you!'

'Where are your gay friends?' she asked,'those with whom you sported
throughout the livelong summer hours?'

'Gone far from me,' he answered bitterly; 'they were but friends of the
fleeting sunshine, and I in the day of my power thought but of myself,
and now--I am left alone to die!'

The Honeysuckle was deeply moved; she remembered no more his haughty
pride, she only saw that _now_ he was ill and in sorrow; so she placed
her clinging tendrils gently around him, trying thus to keep the poor
Butterfly under the shelter of her protecting leaves.

Night came stealing on, folding her sable curtains over the earth; and
it was a wild night, for not a star shone in the skies, all was dark and
dreary, for the Storm King was abroad in all his mighty strength. The
fierce gales came with terrific power, tossing the lordly ships as they
nobly braved its fury, but causing, oh, s