eye and nerve conditions, we pasted under the picture, after it was mounted on a 9 x 9 sheet of bristol board, six one inch parquetry circles. These, of course, were the baby's six

colored balls.

The second-year children had Baby Stuart on their cards, and sewed. a big red ball and a gray hammer. These were the baby's playthings, and the card was lettered for each child with the opening verse of the little song so dear to them all:

"Here's a ball for baby,

Big and soft and round.
Here's the baby's hammer,
Oh, how he can pound!"
(To be continued.)

and white pig with a curly tail went out to take a morning walk. He intended to go to the Mud Puddle, but before he got there he came to a garden gate that was stretched wide

There were tulips on either side of the garden walk, and hollyhocks stood in a straight row against the fence. The pansies had a garden bed all to themselves, and the young vines were just beginning to climb up on the frame that the gardener had made for their special benefit.

"Umph, umph, nice place," said the little pig, and he put his nose down in the pansy bed and began to root up the pansies, for he thought that was the way to behave in a garden.

While he was enjoying himself there the brown hen came down the

road with her family. She had thirteen children, and she was looking for a nice rich spot where they might scratch for their breakfast. When she saw the open gate she was delighted.

"Cluck, cluck, come on," she said. to her chicks.

"Peep, peep, peep," said the little chickens, "is it a worm?"

"It is a beautiful garden, and there is nothing that I like better than to scratch in a garden," answered the hen, as she bustled through the gate. The chickens followed her, and soon they were all busy scratching among the violets.

They had not been there very long when the red cow walked by the garden. She was on her way to the Pond, but when she saw the open garden gate she decided at once to go in. "Moo, moo," she said, "this is delightful. Tender flowers are such a treat," and she swished her tail over her back as she nipped the daisies from their stems.

"Cluck," said the hen, "peep," said the chicks, “umph," said the little pig, for they were pleased to have company. While they were talking a rabbit with very bright eyes peeped in at the gate.

"Oh, is it a party?" he said when

he saw the red cow, and the pig with a curly tail, and the hen and chickens.

"Come in," said the pig "and help yourself. There is plenty of room." So the rabbit hopped into the garden and nibbled the green leaves and the young vines.

"How many of us are here?" asked the red cow, but before any of them could count, the gardener came home.

When he looked into the garden he began to cry, "Oh, my pretty pansies! my dear daisies! my sweet violets! my tender vines!"

"What is he talking about?" said the chickens.

"I suppose he wants us to go out," answered the hen, and she ruffled her feathers and quarreled as the gardener came hurrying toward them.

Then the cow ran one way and the pig ran another. The little chickens got lost in the bushes, and the rabbit hid in the vines. The hen cackled and the pig squealed, and the gardener scolded. By the time he had driven them all out of the garden, the sun was high in the sky.

"Umph, umph," cried the little pig, as he scampered down the road,

"we will all come back to-morrow."

But when they went back the next day the garden gate was fastened close, and not even the smallest chicken could get inside.

IN the mud at the bottom of the N the mud at the bottom of the

lake lay a dark, murky mass. How it wanted to rise! It held

within its grasp a secret, pure and beautiful.

When the April showers fell upon the lake they little dreamed that far beneath its waters that murky mass was working hard to free itself from the muddy bottom. It pushed through the mud, around rootlets, and past shells and pebbles. It tried to rise, but it moved so slowly that it was not sure that it was rising, until the morning it felt itself coming out of the mud and into the water.

Above the waters that now flowed around it, the tasseled alder branches drooped; in the grapevine a last year's bird's nest swung; on the bank, who shall say the newly opened hepatica, that peered modestly down into the water, was not watching for that secret?

The day came when its roots were so deep and its stem so sturdy that it felt strong enough to draw away from the weeds that were holding it down. Pushing them gently aside, one, then another, it went on rising again. Inch by inch it came up through the waves toward the sunshine.

The early robin sang a song in the tree above its head; the caterpillar crawled sleepily along the branches; the tadpole wriggled his way among its rootlets, dreaming of future frogdom: the muskrat brushed its stem with his fur: the turtle slid over it; yet not one of them dreamed that its stem held a secret too white and too beautiful to be yet intrusted to the waves. For many days it must wait, and only lean toward the showers and the sunshine that were over its head. It waited, and it grew.

Days and weeks have passed away. The young robins are hopping in the grass; the caterpillars have sealed themselves up in their cocoons and come out again as butterflies; the tadpoles have made themselves legs with which they have vanished; the world is transformed from spring to sum

mer; and lo, the secret is out, the bud is opened. Like a ship at anchor rests the water lily on the wave.

Queen of the Lake, she reigns in a court of fragrant blossoms. A deep cave of the lake is this Queen's domain. Hither she has retreated, away from the voice of the breaker and the plash of the oar. Here, early one morning, before any living creature was awake, she lifted her dark head out of the waters and burst forth -a Queen, arrayed in robes of spotless white. A moment and the bud had blossomed. The dark head trembled, the calyx leaves were thrust open, and the beautiful disrobing had begun. The firm, white central cone, so closely folded, quivered, and the first of the many petals detached its delicate edges and sprung back, while its white reflection appeared in the water below. Another petal trembled, detached, sprung back, and was still. Then another, another, and another. Before the white petals were unfolded the yellow stamens had begun to lift their powdered heads. A ring of them formed around the center, as thick as they could stand. Meanwhile a strange, sweet odor filled the air, and, though no voice sang the coronation song, a Queen had been crowned and was holding sway upon the lake. To-day the Queen holds her fragrant court with few attendants. The tall pickerel weed, in his gorgeous suit of blue and gold, is her gentleman usher. Though the court attendants are few, the trees above and the waters below are the homes of many friends.

Busy bees go humming past. Lake

flies and "darning needles" pass that way, the grasshopper stops for his early morning song, and the cricket for his evening lullaby. Among the roots and stones the fishes swim. Upon the shore a thousand blossoms sing "Hail to the Queen!"

At that song the daisies and buttercups thrust forth their merry faces, and the clematis waves its sprays of purple beauty. The early goldenrod nods his shaggy head, and the spireas fling their pink and white kerchiefs to the breeze. Meanwhile, upon the water the Queen keeps her chosen court.

When her reign is over, leaving her crown to another, she will slowly contract her strong stem, dip her head beneath the waves, and empty her seed cup in the rich earthen bed at her feet.

Even while her head is drooping, on a neighboring bough an Oriole is singing of this Queen. If his song is true, long weeks she waited before she was Queen. If his song is true, a Prince watched her while she waited. If his song is true, the golden ring of stamens within her white petals was dropped there by the Prince. The Prince of Venice, as the story goes, having power to rule the Adriatic, wedded the waters of the Sea. On his wedding day he dropped the golden ring into the waters. It fell upon the bosom of the Water Lily and there, a bright circle of stamens, it rests forever.

The Prince was satisfied; the Oriole's song is finished; the Lily has emptied her seed cup; the story is done.

2. Nature Work.

Toys,

gestions for a Jack and Jill picture. Group of children make hill at one end of the sand box while a second group build well, and house with garden paling to be placed at the foot of the hill. Twigs for miniature trees and two dolls dressed to represent Jack and Jill complete the picture.

colored crayon to illustrate story of Jack and Jill or any other rhyme used in Gift lesson.

Thursday.

Gift: Large peg tiles. Color lesson, reviewing red and green. Place

pegs in rows representing rows of toy soldiers in red and green coats. Occupation: Cut outlined paper sol

diers and mount on small wood blocks for standards.

Friday.

Gift: Second Gift. Group work on floor. Build dolls' furniture,-bed, chair, table, piano, etc. Occupation: Fold doll's scrap book from two sheets of 7x7 folding paper. Mount colored serap pictures on pagES.

YOUNGER CLASS.

Monday.

Gift: String large red beads, spheres. Occupation: Sand table. Mould balls from sand.