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longer, so one morning he told little squirrel to follow him.

They ran down the trunk of the tree and over the dry leaves; and on and on they went until they came to a part of the wood that the little squirrel had never seen. It was all new and strange to him. Finally they came to a very large oak tree and up this father squirrel ran, little squirrel following after. Near the top they came to quite a large hole, and father squirrel said, very sternly, "Go into this hole and stay there till you can be a good little squirrel." Little Squirrel crept into it and heard his father scrabbling down the tree-trunk and pattering off over the dry leaves, and he felt very lonely for a moment. Then he began looking round the hole; he found a soft bed of leaves and a good pile of nuts and he thought, "It will be fun to have the place all to myself and do just as I please." So he tried to play some games, but he found he could n't play all alone. He went back to the hole and began to think his home and brothers and sisters better than he had realized. Then it began to grow dark and there were no nice little brothers and sisters to cuddle up to and keep warm against, and no good mother to say "Good-night" to him. The night seemed very long. The next morning when he woke up it was raining and he felt very, very far away from his home. He sat looking out of the hole and thought of the nice things his brothers and sisters were doing; how they were scampering about together; and he thought he would like very much to go home. All the day it grew worse and worse; that night he said to himself that if only his father would come and take him back he would be a good squirrel, and he cried himself to sleep.

The next morning, as he was sitting very still, he thought he heard a pattering on the leaves that sounded

like his father! Yes! he heard feet scrambling up the tree-trunk and then, — his father popped into the hole! Looking at little squirrel he asked, "Can you be good now?" and little squirrel said he was sure he could. "Come home, then, with me," said his father. They ran down the tree and over the dry leaves, and as they came to the part of the wood that little squirrel knew, he was happier and happier. When they came to their hole, his mother kissed him and all the little brothers and sisters crowded about him and said how glad they were to have him at home again.

When supper-time came they wanted to give him the best of everything, but he was careful to give the biggest nuts to his little sister; not to begin to eat till all the others had theirs; and to keep his elbows and knees tucked under him. When he cuddled down to sleep that night he was careful to give the little ones the best place and sleep on the outside himself. From that day on he was a great help to his mother and father, and never quarreled with his brothers and sisters; and he found himself happier than ever before.

JUNE: PROTECTION AND CARE OF PLANTS AND FLOWERS

For the Teacher:

IN A LONDON SQUARE 1

ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH

Put forth thy leaf, thou lofty plane,
East wind and frost are safely gone;
With zephyr mild and balmy rain
The summer comes serenely on.
1 Copyright by The Macmillan Co.

Earth, air, and sun and skies combine
To promise all that 's kind and fair:-
But thou, O human heart of mine,

Be still, contain thyself, and bear.

December days were brief and chill,
The winds of March were wild and drear,
And, nearing and receding still,

Spring never would, we thought, be here.
The leaves that burst, the suns that shine,
Had, not the less, their certain date:

And thou, O human heart of mine,
Be still, refrain thyself, and wait.

For the Class to learn:

TO A CHILD

WORDSWORTH

Small service is true service while it lasts.
Of humblest friends, bright creature! scorn not one.
The daisy, by the shadow that it casts,
Protects the lingering dewdrop from the sun.

Suggestions for morning talks

Why does running or playing among plants and shrubs injure them?

Because it is stealing, we must never pick a garden flower or a branch of a plant without permission.

Why should we never destroy the wild flowers or even pick them wastefully?

Remember that every garden flower means that some one has toiled hard to make it grow. If you spoil it, you can never make it beautiful again.

Try to have a garden of your own where you can plant

the seeds and care for your plants till the blossoms

come.

Poems and Stories to read or tell to children

Selected poems from the preceding lists.

"Clyhis, Goldenrod, and Aster," "Persephone," "The Poplar Tree," "Daphne," from Nature Myths and Stories for Little Children, Flora J. Cooke. A. Flanagan Co.

Stories from The Book of Nature Myths, Florence Holbrook. Houghton Mifflin Co.

"Discontent," Sara Orne Jewett, Play Days, Houghton Mifflin Co.

All Things Beautiful, Cecil F. Alexander. R.L.S. No. CC. Houghton Mifflin Co.

"Little White Lily," George MacDonald, Children's Garland from the Best Poets. The Macmillan Co. "Little May," Mrs. Emily H. Miller, Poetry for Children. Houghton Mifflin Co.

"Spring," Celia Thaxter, Poems. Houghton Mifflin Co. "Good-Night and Good Morning," Lord Houghton. R.L.S. No. X. Houghton Mifflin Co.

The Tree, Björnstjerne Björnson. R.L.S. No. CC. Houghton Mifflin Co.

"Daisies," Frank Dempster Sherman, Little Folk Lyrics. Houghton Mifflin Co.

"The Child's World," William Rands, Selections for Memorizing. Ginn & Co.

Pippa's Song, Robert Browning. R.L.S. No. 115. Houghton Mifflin Co.

The Baby Plant and its Friends, Kate L. Brown. Silver, Burdett Co.

"The Dandelion," Thomas Bailey Aldrich, Poems. Houghton Mifflin Co.

WHEN THE DOGWOOD BLOOMS 1

ALICE LOUNSBURY

There is one flower in the woods which every one must see. It is the dogwood, a large white blossom that comes on shrubs or small trees. Now that it is in bloom the woods look gayer than if they were going to a party. These blossoms can be seen from a long way off, and no one could help thinking that they made the country beautiful, even if he did n't love flowers.

Philip Todd has grown to love the dogwood, just as much as he does his pets. He went out yesterday to hunt for wild flowers with Sallie and me. Tommy had gone away by himself sometime before we started. We passed ever so many people coming away from our woods, and every one of them had bunches of dogwood in his arms.

Grandmother is very much displeased with the people who break off large branches from the trees. She says they are thoughtless, and have no knowledge of the harm they are doing. Most of them also throw the branches away before they reach their homes, as the flowers fade quickly. Grandmother thinks it will only be after they have truly learned to know flowers and to love them that they will stop being so cruel.

1 Abridged. Copyright, by F. A. Stokes Co.

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