“Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful,” said the old forest tree. “It is just what we need,” piped one of the birds. “We don’t praise God half enough. Here we’ve been sitting and sulking all the afternoon because it is raining, and never one thankful chirp have we given for all the yesterdays and yesterdays when it hasn’t rained. We need a Chautauqua. I declare, I’m ashamed!” And he poured forth such a glad, thankful song of praise as thrilled the old forest trees through and through and most effectually waked the napping ferns. [Illustration: AND HE POURED FORTH SUCH A GLAD AND THANKFUL SONG.] “Yes,” said the listening daisies, when the song was done and the bird had stopped to rest his throat, “we do need a Chautauqua.” * * * * * “Let’s have a Chautauqua!” cried the brook. “But how could we,” said the wise-eyed violet, “when we know so little about it?” “I will tell you all I know,” said Bachelor graciously. “You see we lived just outside the gates, and people used often to come and buy my brothers and sisters. Once a young man came and bought a very large bunch of them and took them to a young lady in a white dress, and she wore them everywhere for three or four days—you know our family is a very long-lived one, and we are something like the camel, in that we can go a long time without a drink of water—well, she kept them carefully and took them everywhere she went, and they saw and heard a great many new things. One evening this young lady sat in a big place full of people, and an old lady sitting behind her said to another lady, ‘Just see those pink bachelor buttons! My mother used to have some just like them growing in her garden, years and years ago, and I haven’t seen any since.’ The young lady heard her, turned around and gave her a whole handful of my brothers and sisters. After the meeting was out, the old lady carried them away with her, but one slipped out of her hand and fell on the walk, and some one came along in the darkness and crushed her. Quite early the next morning our neighbor, Mr. Robin, going to the market for a worm for breakfast, saw her lying in this sad state, and with great difficulty brought her home to us. She lived only a day or two longer, but long enough to tell us many of her experiences. “After she had faded and gone, our friend Robin went every day to hear and see what was going on inside the great gates, and every night when the bells were ringing”— “What bells?” interrupted an impolite buttercup. “The night bells for the people to go to sleep by. They rang beautiful music on bells by the water to put the people to sleep, and in the morning to wake them, and they had bells to call them to the big place to praise God, and hear the lectures and singing.” “Beautiful, beautiful,” murmured the brook.