So mamma took Freddy, and placed him on the back of the old sow. The old sow gave a look over her ears, saw it was Freddy, and then uttered a contented grunt, as much as to say, "All right! Freddy, you are a darling, and I love you."
"Did I not tell you that the old sow loved you, like the rest?"
"Yes, mamma; but why, why, do they love me? Tell me that."
Mamma snatched Freddy up in her arms, took him into the house, and then said, "I think they must love you, Freddy, because you love them. Love wins love, you know. The person who says that no one loves him should ask himself the question, 'But do I love any one?'"
Ida Fay.
HOW THE MORNING COMES.
Cheery, cheery,
Out of the dreary
Dark there glows
A tint of yellow, a purple gleam,
A shine of silver, a brazen beam,
A flush of rose;
The darkness, meanwhile, flying, gone:
Thus does the morning dawn.
Creeping, creeping,
Daintily peeping,
Hastes the light
Through the window to see where lies
The little girl with the sleepy eyes;
Glistens bright
With very joy to find the place
Where lies her dreaming face.
Drowsy, drowsy,
A little frowzy
Gold-locked head
Turns on its pillow, yawns, and winks;
Lifts from its pillow, peeps, and blinks;
Turns in bed;
Then with a slow, reluctant shake,
Is almost wide awake.