THE DAISY AND THE FERN.
The day was hot, the sun shone out
And burned the little flowers,
Who earthward drooped their weary heads,
And longed for cooling showers.
One little daisy, hot and tired,
And scorching in the sun,
Had altered much, for fair was she
When the morning had begun.
"Come, put yourself beneath my shade!"
A graceful fern thus spake,
"For if you stay out there, dear flower,
You'll shrivel up and bake."
So daisy leaned towards the fern
And hid beneath her shade,
And on the fern's cool, mossy root
Her burning petals laid.
No sunlight fell on her, but, oh!
The poor fern had it all;
She drooped down low, and lower still,
Who once was straight and tall.
"Daisy," she said, "I'm dying fast,
My life is near its end,
My time with you is almost past,
So farewell, little friend."
Then daisy wept, her tears ran down
Upon the poor fern's root;
A thrill of fast returning life
Through the languid fern did shoot.
Full soon she grew quite fresh again,
No longer did she burn;
For little daisy's tears of love
Had saved the dying fern.
Maud Egerton Hine, a child of less than eight years old.