LEGEND OF THE WATER-LILY

One night, long, long ago when the Moon of Flowers shone softly on the prairie a group of Indian youths sitting in a circle on the grass were talking about the stars. One of the braves, a young chieftain, gazed intently toward the south. On a wooded hill back of his wigwam twinkled a star which was the brightest he had ever seen.

"Surely the star has a message for the Red Men. Who can read it?" the watchers asked each other.

Each night during the beautiful Moon of Flowers the star grew more and more radiant until its glorious light filled the southern sky, but not one of the Indian youths had been able to explain the meaning of the light.

One night after the Moon of Flowers had given her place in Sky Land to the Hot Moon the chief dreamed that a beautiful maiden stood by his side and said, "Young brave, how beautiful your world is when the Summer Queen reigns. Great stretches of prairie glisten with dandelions and red lilies; butterflies flit about in the sunlight; gentle breezes touch the forest leaves and they sing soft answers to the rapture of the birds; little children shout for joy in merry laughter. I long to live among you. Ask your wise men how I may become a part of this beauty, and how I may add to the children's happiness."

Then the young chief awakened. He sprang to his feet, called his braves together in the council-lodge and told them his dream.

"It's the message of the radiant star," they said. "Let us smoke the pipe of peace as a sign of our welcome."

Accordingly a band of young braves led by the chieftain climbed the wooded hill and smoked a pipe of peace filled with sweet-scented herbs. Then they stretched forth their hands towards the star and bade welcome to her. At the close of their ceremonies the light grew more luminous than ever before and the braves knew their welcome was understood. They walked back to the village and the star followed them all the way, and shone over their wigwams until daybreak.

At night the chief dreamed that the beautiful maiden stood again by his side. "I'm coming to dwell among your people," she said. "I'm wondering what form I shall take in order to add to the children's joy."

"They love to hear the birds sing," said the chief.

But the maiden shook her head. "I shall not live in the tree-tops," she answered.

"Choose your own way to live, Star-Maiden," said the chief.

"I shall live among you as a flower," she said. "Surely the children's hearts are gladdened by the blossoms of the earth."

"They are, indeed," declared the chief. "The mountain-rose is wondrously beautiful."

"Oh, but it is too far away from the children," sighed the maiden.

"The prairie dandelion makes our little ones clap their hands in glee," suggested the chief.

The maiden thought awhile; then she said, "The buffalo's hoof often crushes the prairie dandelion."

The chief was sorely puzzled. Finally he said, "You would be safe from harm if you should choose the rocky cliffs for your blooming place."

But the maiden said, "The children seldom climb the cliffs. I must live where the children can see me."

Suddenly her face brightened and she said, "I know! I know! I'll live in the clear streamlet and bloom on its surface. I shall feel soft breezes blow and hear the birds sing. In the branches which bend over me the warblers will build their nests. The children will play on the banks, and they will touch me with their little hands as they glide safely along in their canoes. Look for me in the streamlet."

Then the young brave awakened. He sprang up and walked to a clear stream which flowed near the Indian village. On the waters floated beautiful white blossoms with delicate waxen leaves. Hundreds of lovely water-lilies were waiting there to surprise the Indian children and bring added joy into their lives.

THE TALE OF TWO TAILS
Mary H. Wilson

"Taddypole and Pollywog

Lived together in a bog;

Here you see the very pool

Where they went to summer school.

"By and by—'tis true, though strange,

O'er them came a wondrous change;

Here you see them on a log,

Each a most decided Frog."

Mother's Portfolio.

The little pond behind the machine-shop was full of tadpoles—wee fellows—all head and tail. Jolliest of these were Taddypole and Pollywog, two little cousins, who spent their time in countless swimming matches or games of hide-and-seek among the stones which bordered the pond.

Barefooted boys and girls peeped over the edge of the water to watch the tadpoles darting hither and thither; then, with merry shouts, returned to their own play.

Taddy's and Pollie's round eyes watched them curiously. Sometimes when the landbabies waded in the shallow water these tiny water-babies played fearlessly around their feet, nibbling their toes or playing leapfrog over them.

So they passed merry days and when the twilight came, Taddy and Pollie were ready to listen to the band concert. This, unfortunately, was given on land, so the little tadpoles could not be present, but from the water they could catch glimpses of Father Frog booming away on his big bass drum, and hear the sweet chirping chorus of the tiny frog violinists in the marsh near by.

"Oh, Pollie," cried Tadpole, "if we could only go to the concert! Why, I'd be willing to give up hide-and-seek for a week just to get a little nearer to the music."

"I know," said Pollywog gloomily. "I want to go myself, the very worst kind of way. There's no use wishing, though, for we have no clothes that would be suitable. Only green silk dress suits with polka dots are worn this year. Besides, we can't stand it out of the water. It's too warm or something, I don't know just what, but I always feel half smothered if I try."

"Besides," reflected Taddy, "we haven't been invited. Only musicians are asked, and we can't sing, you know."

Splash! Ker-Chunk! Father Frog hopped into the water, then out again on a broad stone, where he began thundering a bass solo:

"Come along, come along,

Come along!"

"Oh, how I wish we could!" cried the little tadpoles, feeling that this was a personal invitation. They swam as close as possible to the stone, and gazed admiringly at the great singer.

"Could what?" grumbled Father Frog.

"Wish we could go to the concert."

"Ker-chug!" answered Father Frog.

It sounded very much like a hoarse chuckle. "Why don't you go?"

"No invitation."

"No dress suit."

"Can't breathe out of the water."

The tadpoles' voices were very mournful as they gave their reasons.

"I invite you," said Father Frog, "to the July concert three weeks from to-day. Your dress suits will be ready, and as far as breathing is concerned it's all practice. Would you believe it?" he said in a hoarse whisper, "I couldn't stay out of the water very well myself at one time, but I practised breathing every day, until now it is the easiest thing in the world. But speaking of practice making perfect reminds me I must rehearse my song for the concert.

"Come along, come along,

Come along!"

"Let's go down in the sand," whispered Pollie. "I can always think better down there; and, really, this is all so surprising I must think it over. Oh, Taddy, do you think we could truly go to the concert?"

Taddy swished his tail and dived down without answering, feeling this to be too much of a problem for a tadpole to decide.

"It's very strange," said Taddy a few days later; "it certainly seems as if we were getting legs—what use have tadpoles for them? We only need our strong tails for swimming."

"Taddy," cried Pollie, "there's something still stranger. Our tails are shrinking. If they don't stop they will disappear, and then what could we do?"

"Grr-nm, grr-nm!" sounded Father Frog's hoarse voice. "Getting ready for the concert, I see! Well, when you lose those ridiculous tails you will look much better."

"Lose them!" exclaimed the tadpoles; "and what do you think we could do without them?" But Father Frog had disappeared, leaving only the echo of his "Come along."

"I feel as if something strange were about to happen," said Pollie. "I'm tired of tag and hide-and-seek; let's think of some new game."

"We might practice breathing, as Father Frog advised," suggested Taddy; "let's go to the top of the water and see who can keep his head out the longer."

This new game interested the tadpoles very much, and in a week's time they began really to enjoy the air.

"I can stay out a long while now," announced Taddy triumphantly, "and since my front legs appeared I can jump quite high."

"Our tails are quite gone," said Pollie, "and I don't know but that it is an improvement. I think I like legs better than tails, and hopping is much more fun than swimming. Some day I mean to hop up on that wet stone where Father Frog sits so often. Wouldn't he be surprised to see me there?"

"What fun!" exclaimed Taddy. "Try it now. There, you did it! Oh, Pollie, how fine you look! Do you like it up there? I'm coming, too, Pollie. Hurrah!"

"Ho, ho!" chuckled Father Frog from the land. "Are you ready for the concert, little frogs?"

Taddy and Pollie looked at each other in astonishment.

"Are we frogs?" they cried.

"Why, yes."

"Oh, Taddy, and you have your green suit!"

"So have you, Pollie."

"Why, I shouldn't be surprised at anything now, not even if we could sing. Let's try," and both little frogs lifted up their voices and sang.

"Che-weep, che-weep, che-weep."

They looked so droll, and sang with such a funny chirp, that Father Frog fell off the bank splash into the water with laughter.

Taddy and Pollie didn't mind this in the least, for they were sure that Che-weep was the most beautiful song in the world.

And this is the way Taddypole and Pollywog lost their tails, and gained their voices in time for the July concert.