On the Threshold I. Bring me my grandson, Agnes,
Bring me your first-born boy;
I may not be with you much longer,
And he is my old heart's joy. II. Do you think he is old enough yet, girl,
To remember me after I go?
If not I must stay awhile longer,
For he must not forget me, you know. III. You who are yet but a child, dear,
Will see him as tall as the squire
But I must make ready to leave you,
For have I not won my desire? IV. Old winter waits for the snowdrop
Before he turns to depart,
And I have stayed for the coming
Of this last joy of my heart. V. We meet in the same wide doorway,
And inward to life he trips
But I to my death creep outwards
And, passing, we both touch lips. F. W. H.

[LINK TO ILLUSTRATED PAGE]

TROT, TODDLES, AND THE TEA-PARTY.

Trot walked slowly up-stairs, repeating the words she had heard,—

"If you want the entertainment to be a success, you must draw up a programme, and carry it out."

She looked very solemn, for she felt the importance of the occasion. On the day following she and Toddles were to give their very first party; and four little girls and four little boys, not to mention the four dolls of the four little girls, were coming to take tea with Trot and Toddles and mother.

Trot had thought about it a great deal, and so had Toddles, wondering what would happen, and what they should do to make the guests enjoy themselves.

"TODDLES STOOD IN FRONT OF HER."