One day I fluttered from the nest
To see what I could find.
I said, "The world is made of leaves;
I have been very blind."

At length I flew beyond the tree,
Quite fit for grown-up labours.
I don't know how the world _is_ made,
And neither do my neighbours!


HOW WE CAME TO HAVE PINK ROSES[1]

[Footnote 1: Told me by Miss Elizabeth McCracken.]

Once, ever and ever so long ago, we didn't have any pink roses. All the
roses in the world were white. There weren't any red ones at all, any
yellow ones, or any pink ones,--only white roses.

And one morning, very early, a little white rosebud woke up, and saw the
sun looking at her. He stared so hard that the little white rosebud did
not know what to do; so she looked up at him and said, "Why are you
looking at me so hard?"

"Because you are so pretty!" said the big round sun. And the little white
rosebud blushed! She blushed pink. And all her children after her were
little pink roses!


RAGGYLUG[2]