This world is very beautiful and the birds and flowers help to make it so. When we think what the world would be without the fluttering of wings and the carols of birds, without the color and perfume of the lilies and roses and the myriads of wild flowers that lift their pretty heads from banks of dainty moss or nod to their reflection in the clear waters of the brook, we begin to feel what beauty they possess and what a grace they give to our lives. Birds have been named often from their appearance. The name grouse means gray hen, and this family of game birds as a whole is of this color. I must now tell you of a wonderful thing that happened just a while ago. You all know about the Queen's Diamond Jubilee over in England? The papers every day gave interesting accounts of the Queen and her people, how they loved her, how they applauded her whenever she showed her good, kind face to them. I had said to my brother that I wished I could see such a wonderful jubilee, when he replied: "Can you keep a secret?" "Of course you know that I can!" "Listen, then," he whispered softly, "if you wish to see some things as strange as the Queen's Jubilee be ready on your wheel at 11 tonight. Say not a word to any one." "But where are we going?" I asked. "That I shall not tell you; if you care to come, all right; if not, I shall go alone." Of course I was ready. Our wheels seemed to rise into the air, and, flying swiftly as the wind, we at last alighted in a nest of hills, a lovely spot. The moonlight was shining and strange winged figures were flitting about. One of them challenged us, but when the password, "Jubilee," was given he let us pass. The air was filled with the whirring of wings and the voices of the birds. They seemed to be very busy getting ready for some great event. Suddenly a drumming noise was heard and all the birds were still. Looking at the open space I saw a log and standing proudly there was a fine ruffed grouse. Soon he spoke: "Brothers of the grouse family, long have I waited for this day. It is the proudest moment of my life. To the broad prairies and lofty hills of America I bid you welcome, O, my brothers! I am glad so many of the ladies are present, too," and then Mr. Grouse spread his ruff so wide that we could hardly see his head, and made several low bows to the grouse hens who fluttered their sober gray wings. "In the name of all the grouse in America I welcome you. And now, brother and sister grouse, I have the honor of introducing the Cock-o'-the-woods, who will take the log." The drumming and whirring of wings and cries of "Cock, cock!" that followed this speech of the ruffed grouse almost deafened us.