Slowly the moonlight faded from the flowers, the shadows of the night deepened and the soft dew fell like a benediction. A Fairy form floated over the sweetest of blossoms, then disappeared, and all was dark and silent save a gentle flutter, as of wings.
But in the morning when the sunbeams had awakened the sleeping blossoms, a flight of bright-winged Butterflies floated in the air or lighted for a moment on the flowers, but the Sweet Peas had all disappeared and were nowhere to be seen.
Fannie Wright Dixon.
RABBIT’S CREAM.
Everyone is well acquainted
With the arts of Frosty Jack—
With his etchings on the windows,
With the tints that mark his track;
But the quaint and merry artist
Has a fancy of his own