"Hurrah for Frank!" "Three cheers for Frank!" shouted most of the boys; and Frank went home to his work feeling happier than he could have done if, by means of a silent lie, he had won the prize.

You see that, if Frank had kept quiet, he would have told a silent lie. His silence would have given the committee a wrong impression, and he would have cheated Henry out of the prize. Now that you know what a silent lie is, I hope you will resolve never to be guilty of silent lying. Hold fast the truth!

Watch for the April flowers, children. All you have to do is to look, as you go to school, and you will find them. But you must look up, not down, for the flowers which I mean. They are not

little blossoms on the ground at your feet, but

they wave high above your heads, on the branches of great trees.

Perhaps you think that trees like the elm, poplar, and maple bear nothing but leaves; yet look sharply, and you will find that they have flowers too. In early spring the elm is in blossom. If break off a branch, you

will find the tiny brown flowers. They are so small that, when you merely look up into the trees, you may think they are nothing but buds.

In April the willows and poplars are also in bloom. Those soft, silvery catkins, which the children call pussies, are the blossoms. On the willow these stand erect, but on the poplar they become long and drooping.

A little later, and the maple waves a cloud of crimson blossoms against the sunny sky, the oak hangs out as many graceful tassels as the poplar, and every cherry, and peach, and apple tree is turned into a huge bouquet.

I remember seeing once a cherry-tree burst into bloom in a rain-storm. It was a pretty tree, just opposite my window. Its buds grew

white very early in the spring, and I thought that mine would be the first cherry-blossoms of the

season.

But something was the matter; either the tree was obstinate, or the wind blew too cold, or the sunshine was not warm enough: the little buds would not come out. The soft, warm showers came and coaxed them, but they would not

come.

One afternoon, as I stood looking at the tree, a thunder-shower came up-first a few large, round drops, then more; finally they came down thick and fast, pelting everything within their reach.

One would hit a bud; it would nod, and then, slowly, its little white petals would unfold, and it would look up as if surprised, and as if it did not quite understand such rude treatment.

But the drops did not care; they pelted away, and, before half an hour had passed, they had opened every one of those buds. And, when the storm was over, the last rays of the setting sun fell upon the tree, covered with beautiful white blossoms the loveliest tree in the garden.

Write the names of all the trees which you know, and where they grow.

THE ROBIN AND THE SNAKE.

One summer morning Mark Ridley and his sister Minnie were crossing a field that lay between their house and an old apple-orchard, and,

just as they came near a clump of young trees, their attention was attracted by a bird, which seemed to be behaving very strangely.

When they first noticed her, she was fluttering about among the low branches of the bushes, uttering the most piercing cries.

For a moment Mark thought that she was wounded. But the instant she saw the children she flew straight toward them, uttering the same piercing cries, as if angry. Round and round their heads she flew, and then darted off to an old apple-tree near by.

Three times she came near them with the same sharp cries, and then flew back again to the tree, till at last they thought some one had robbed her nest, and that she took them for the rogues.

The third time she flew so near to Mark, and made such a strange and pitiful noise, that his curiosity was excited to see what was the matter with the bird, and he followed her to the appletree, from which and to which she had flown so many times; and, instead of an empty nest, what do you suppose he saw?

A great, ugly snake, a house-adder, had crawled up the tree, and was running his fiery tongue out just over the little birds in the nest. Mark