“How long it is!” it said. “I feel quite cramped. I must stretch myself and rise up a little. I must lift the latch, and look out, and say 'good-morning' to the spring.” So the flower pushed and pushed. The walls were softened by the rain and warmed by the little sunbeams, so the flower shot up from under the snow, with a pale green bud on its stalk and some long narrow leaves on either side. It was biting cold. “You are a little too early,” said the wind and the weather; but every sunbeam sang: “Welcome,” and the flower raised its head from the snow and unfolded itself--pure and white, and decked with green stripes. It was weather to freeze it to pieces,--such a delicate little flower,--but it was stronger than any one knew. It stood in its white dress in the white snow, bowing its head when the snow-flakes fell, and raising it again to smile at the sunbeams, and every day it grew sweeter. “Oh!” shouted the children, as they ran into the garden, “see the snowdrop! There it stands so pretty, so beautiful,--the first, the only one!” THE THREE LITTLE BUTTERFLY BROTHERS (FROM THE GERMAN)[2] [Footnote 2: From Deutsches Drittes Lesebuch, by W. H. Weick and C. Grebner. Copyright, 1886, by Van Antwerp, Bragg & Co. American Book Company, publishers.] There were once three little butterfly brothers, one white, one red, and one yellow. They played in the sunshine, and danced among the flowers in the garden, and they never grew tired because they were so happy. One day there came a heavy rain, and it wet their wings. They flew away home, but when they got there they found the door locked and the key gone. So they had to stay out of doors in the rain, and they grew wetter and wetter. By and by they flew to the red and yellow striped tulip, and said: “Friend Tulip, will you open your flower-cup and let us in till the storm is over?” The tulip answered: “The red and yellow butterflies may enter, because they are like me, but the white one may not come in.” But the red and yellow butterflies said: “If our white brother may not find shelter in your flowercup, why, then, we'll stay outside in the rain with him.” It rained harder and harder, and the poor little butterflies grew wetter and wetter, so they flew to the white lily and said: “Good Lily, will you open your bud a little so we may creep in out of the rain?” The lily answered: “The white butterfly may come in, because he is like me, but the red and yellow ones must stay outside in the storm.” Then the little white butterfly said: “If you won't receive my red and yellow brothers, why, then, I'll stay out in the rain with them. We would rather be wet than be parted.” So the three little butterflies flew away. But the sun, who was behind a cloud, heard it all, and he knew what good little brothers the butterflies were, and how they had held together in spite of the wet. So he pushed his face through the clouds, and chased away the rain, and shone brightly on the garden.