The king was in his counting-house

Counting out his money;

The queen was in the parlor
Eating bread and honey;

The maid was in the garden
Hanging out the clothes,

There came a little blackbird,
And snapped off her nose.

WEE ROBIN'S YULE-SONG

A SCOTTISH FOLK TALE

Old Gray Pussy Baudrons went down by the pond. There she saw Wee Robin hopping on a brier.

Then Old Gray Pussy Baudrons said, "Where are you going, Wee Robin? And Wee Robin said, "I am going to the king to sing him a song this fine Yule morning."

"Come here, Wee Robin," said Pussy Baudrons, "and I'll let you see a pretty white ring round my neck." But Wee Robin answered,

"No, no, Old Gray Pussy Baudrons; no, no! You worry the wee mousey, but you shall not worry me."

So Wee Robin flew away till he came to a great high wall. There sat Sly Tod Lowrie, the fox.

Then Sly Tod Lowrie said, "Where are you going, Wee Robin?" And Wee Robin answered, "I am going to the king to sing him a song this fine Yule morning."

"Come here, Wee Robin," said Sly Tod Lowrie, "and I'll let you see a pretty spot on the top of my tail."

But Wee Robin answered, "No, no, Sly Tod Lowrie, no, no! You worry the wee lamb but you shall not worry me!"

So Wee Robin flew away till he came to the hollow. There sat Wee Hunter.

Then Wee Hunter said, "Where are you going, Wee Robin?" And Wee Robin answered, "I am going to the king to sing him a song this fine Yule morning."

"Come here, Wee Robin," said Wee Hunter,

"and I'll give you some crumbs out of my pouch." But Wee Robin answered, "No, no, Wee Hunter, no, no! You shot the goldfinch but you shall not shoot me."

So Wee Robin flew away till he came to the king. There he sat by the window and sang the king his sweet Yule-song.

Then the king said to the

queen,

"What shall we give to Wee Robin for his sweet Yule-song?" And the queen answered, "I think we should give him the wee wren to be his wife."

So the king and the queen danced at the wedding and Wee Robin and his wife flew away home and hopped on a brier.

Adapted.

A dog who had a large piece of meat in his mouth was crossing a river. As he looked down into the water he saw what he thought to be a bigger piece of meat. He dropped the meat to catch its image and lost both.

Esop.

SEPTEMBER

BY HELEN HUNT JACKSON

The goldenrod is yellow;
The corn is turning brown;
The trees in apple orchards

With fruit are bending down.

The gentian's bluest fringes
Are curling in the sun;
In dusty pods the milkweed 4
Its hidden silk has spun.

The sedges flaunt their harvest, In every meadow nook; Asters by the brook-side

Make asters in the brook.

From dewy lanes at morning The grapes' sweet odors rise; At noon the roads all flutter With yellow butterflies.

By all these lovely tokens, September days are here, With summer's best of weather, And autumn's best of cheer.

THE PINKS

BY FREDERICK KRUMMACHER

“O, dear mother, give each of us a flower-bed," cried little Frederick. Give me one, and Gustavus one, and Alvina one."

So the mother gave each child a flower-bed planted with pinks already in bud. "How fine it will be when the pinks are in bloom!" cried they. Little Frederick could not wait. He wished

his flower-bed to bloom before the others.

He took his buds in his hands and looked at them. Yes, there were a few red petals. He opened all the buds till the red petals showed. "My pinks are in bloom!" he shouted. "My pinks are in bloom!"

But when the sun shone on them the flowers drooped. By noon they were yellow and faded. Then Frederick cried about his flowers, but his mother said,

"Do not cry, my child. This will teach you to be patient."