LITTLE THINGS.
HE seed set in the garden
Becomes a lovely flower,
It opens in the sunlight
Or twines about the bower;
It beareth tender blossoms,
In beauty it is drest,
And though at last its grace is past,
How many it hath blest!
The tiny little acorn
Becomes an oak at last,
And children swing upon its boughs
When many years are past.
Though now it looks so mighty,
And branches hath so tall,
Ah, yet we know, ere it did grow,
It was an acorn small.
As flowers grow up from tiny seeds,
As oaks from acorns spring,
E'en so from kindly words and deeds
Grows many a lovely thing.
They still the angry passions,
They break the stubborn will,
And earth so sweet, where these do meet,
Becomes yet sweeter still.
FRED'S NEW WORLD.
Fred Miller was feeling very dull and rather sorry for himself. He stood by the garden gate and wished he had a brother or sister to play with, as other boys and girls had. He even wished that the holidays would come to an end and that he might go to school again: for in the holidays the children from school went away into the country or to stay with friends—all, except Fred; somehow there was never a chance for him to go.
He was an only child, but his father and mother had many cares, and could not spare time to amuse their boy, or spend money in pleasing him. 'You must play in the garden and not run about the streets,' Mr. Miller would say when he went off to his day's work: perhaps he did not quite know how tired a boy might grow of being in the same little plot of ground all day and every day.
Fred was thankful when there were errands to be done; it was better to fetch flour or potatoes from the shop than to play by himself. But the errands were soon over, leaving him face to face with the old question, 'What shall I do?'
'Fred,' called Mrs. Marshall, one day—she lived in the next house to Mr. Miller's—'can your mother spare you to go to the library for me?'