And the genial west wind bore the message of the grand old rose far and wide, and whispered it to every flower, and the flowers bowed in silence while he spake; but when he had passed along, they shook off their useless petals and prepared for their journey as they sweetly sang: “We are going home, we are going home; good-bye, old world, good-bye.”
And when the west wind came again, he found them ready, and he gathered them all up in his arms and bore them away to the happy Summer-land.
The north wind came with a biting blast, but he found no trembling leaf or shrinking flower; they had all departed with their friend, the west wind, to remain forever in that land of sunlight, where the south wind sings to them of the peace and beauty of their heavenly home.
FOR THE LITTLE ONES.
All day long the leafy branches
Of the stately maple tree
Waved their banners in the breezes
Bold and fearless, strong and free;
All day long the golden sunshine
Bathed the pretty flowers in light,