Emily looked questioningly at her mother. "What does that mean,
mamma?" she asked. And grandmother, who was standing by, said, with a
smile:

"You thought the jasmine bells, shining in the dark wood, were a gleam
of sunshine, dear, brightening up the gloom. There are sometimes dark
places in our lives, you know; mother is having one just now, while
she is not well enough to go out herself into the sunshine. And her
little daughter, by being sweet and cheery, is just such a gleam of
sunshine to her as the jasmine bells were to the dark pine woods."

Little Emily leaned over her mother for a kiss, then turned to touch
caressingly the golden bells of the jasmine.

"Dear little sunshine flowers," she said, lovingly. "I'll try to
remember you every day, and be a sunshine maker, too."

[Illustration: "You thought the jasmine bells were sunshine."]

* * * * *

The more one controls his temper, the less will it control him.

* * * * *

Knowledge Box

Berry.