r to the ground and hurting her severely; so sin came into
her world. She saw innate depravity exemplified in the conduct of her
innocent white pig, that would take to puddles and filth in spite of
her gentle endeavors to restrain its wayward impulses. Her puppies
too bit each other, would quarrel over a bone, growl and get generally
unmanageable. None of her animals fulfilled the promise of their
youth, and her care was returned with base ingratitude. Even
the little wrens bickered with the blue-birds, and showed their
selfishness and jealousy in chasing them from the crumbs she
impartially spread for all in common.

So at seven she was a wise little woman, and said to her nurse one
day, "I do not care for pets any more: they all grow up nasty."

Was Solomon's "All is vanity" truer?

With so much experience Nellie felt old, for life is not counted by
years alone: it is the loss of hope, the mistrust of appearance, the
vanishing of illusion, that brings age. A hopeful heart is young at
seventy, and youth is past when hope is dead. But, in spite of all,
hope was not dead in the heart of the little maid, and though deceived
she was quite ready to be deceived a second time, as was Solomon, and
as we are all.

It was now that the girl began to be fond of flowers. She made
herself a bed for them in a sunny corner of the kitchen-garden, and
transplanted daisy roots and spring-beauties, with other wood- and
field-plants as they blossomed. She watched the ferns unroll their
worm-like fronds, made plays with the nodding violets, and ornamented
her head with dandelion curls. This was indeed a happy summer.
Her rambles were unlimited, and each day she was rewarded by new
discoveries and delightful secrets--how the May-apple is good to eat,
that sassafras root makes tea, that birch bark is very like candy,
though not so sweet, and slippery elm a feast.

Her new playmates were as lovely and perfect as she could desire.
_They_ did not "grow up nasty," but in the autumn, alas! they died.

One day at the end of the Indian summer, after having wandered for
hours searching for her favorites, she found them all withered. The
trees also looked forlorn, shivering in the chill air, with scarce a
leaf to cover them: the wind moaned, and the sky was gray instead
of the bright summer blue. The little one, tired and disappointed,
touched by this mighty lesson of decay, threw herself on a friendly
bank and wept.

It is true the beautiful