"Dears, be good and do not fight,
I have ordered you new dresses,
Dainty robes of purest white."

Ah! then all the tiny raindrops
Hummed a merry glad refrain,
And the old folks cried: "How pleasant
Is the music of the rain!"

Just at even, when the children
Had been safely tucked in bed,
There was such a rush and bustle
In the dark clouds overhead!

Then those raindrops hurried earthward,
At the North Wind's call, you know,
And the wee folks, in the morning,
Laughed to see the flakes of snow.



SIR GOBBLE.

Bessie Curtis was in a great deal of trouble. She was spending a
year in the country while her father and mother were in Europe.
It was not that which was troubling her. She liked the country,
she loved her uncle and aunt with whom she lived, and she
heard every week from her father and mother. But something
disturbed her. As the summer passed, and the autumn came, she had
moments when she looked very sober. What was the reason?