* * * * *



FATE.

Ruth was a laughing-eyed prattler,
Thoughtless, and happy, and free;
She planted a seed in the garden,
And said: "It will grow to a tree--
A beautiful blossoming tree."

The birds and the squirrels played round it,
As careless and merry was she,
But not tree ever grew from her planting--
No beautiful blossoming tree.

Ruth was a winsome-faced maiden,
Happy, and hopeful, and free;
She planted a seed in the garden,
And smilingly waited to see--
A beautiful blossoming tree.

She covered the ground up with flowers,
The butterfly came, and the bee,
But no tree ever grew from her planting--
No beautiful blossoming tree.

Ruth was a pale saddened woman,