"Oh, oh," she cried, her eyes shining, "what do you think? Just as soon as I was on Jenny's back she started for the barn. And when we came round by the barnyard she stopped and said 'Moo, moo,' an' then a little calf--just like Jenny--that I hadn't seen 'cause it was lying down, jumped up, an' came running to the gate an' put its head through. Jenny put her head down an' kissed it, then she turned her head and looked at me, an' I jumped right down off her back an' kissed it too. For I knew it was Jenny's calf an' she had taken me out the first thing to show it to me. Wasn't it nice of Jenny to want me to see her calf? an' grandpa, can I name it?" Grandpa said he thought it was very nice indeed, of Jenny to show Jean her baby, and they had been waiting for her to come and name it. "Oh, oh!" cried Jean again, "and I have a name all ready. It is Daisy." VAIN WISHES. BY HELEN I. CASTELLA. Sometimes I think I'd like to be A duck to splash in the pond so free: And then again I've pondered o'er The hen that clucks near the barnyard door. The guinea's life is freer than all, She wanders off, nor listens to call, But the pine cone chips that fall on me, Remind me of squirrels far up in the tree-- The nuts they're gath'ring to store away 'Gainst skies of winter's cold and grey. There's something else that skips so free Through the brush with hardly a glance at me; With his furry coat, he's quick as a wink, Would I be a rabbit? I stop and think. But between you and I-- After all, what's the use In spending my time regretting? There's only one thing I'll turn into-- A goose! If I waste many moments in fretting! The Things in the Garden By GERTRUDE WARNER Rose and Marguerite were playing in the nursery when they heard a queer bumping noise down in the back yard. "What's that?" asked Rose, stopping to listen. "That's Stubby, kicking his heels against the settee. He's awful cross today," said Marguerite, and kept right on making the doll's bed. In a second Rose had her head out of the window. There sat Stubby, kicking his heels against the settee and looking dreadfully cross. "Why, Stubby dear, what's the matter?" she called sweetly. "Nuffin'," said Stubby. "Why don't you play with the things in the garden?" "What fings?" "Wait a minute and we'll come down and show you," Rose said, drawing her head in. "How _can_ you play with that cross, _cross_ Stubby?" asked Marguerite. "He isn't sick, and we've done everything to please him all day. He's just plain cross. And if you play with him we can't finish arranging the playhouse before five o'clock." [Illustration: Copyright by Underwood & Underwood, N.Y.] "Mother said I might stay till six," said Rose gently, "and I've thought of something to keep him busy. Come!"