Presently she saw in the distance a bright gleam as of flame. “What can that be?” said Nettie to herself; “I will go and see.” So she went in the direction of the light, and came soon to a fire, around which were twelve men, each seated upon a big stone. The oldest of these men—a very old fellow indeed, whose white beard swept the ground—spoke kindly to the little girl, asking her who she was and what she wanted. Nettie told her sad story. All the men felt very sorry for her, and the oldest one said: “My name is January. You cannot find violets in my month. Yet I think I can find a way to help you.” Then he turned to one of his brothers, and said to him: “Suppose you change places with me, Brother March?” Brother March jumped up at once, and changed places with his eldest brother. As soon as he had done this, a wonderful change took place in everything. The snow vanished, the sun shone, the air grew softer, the trees began to bud. Nettie forgot her troubles as she saw a bird alight on the grass at her feet, and close to the spot was a bed of the loveliest violets she had ever seen. She thanked the kind brothers and returned to her Aunt’s house. The violets must surely have been magic flowers, as from that day Nettie was well and kindly treated by her Aunt, and even her cousin ceased to torment her. _E. Dyke._ THE PINK EGG. THERE were two robins in the orchard hedge last Spring. They had a dear little nest, and two bluey eggs, and they were as happy as anyone need wish to be. But one day a Boy came by, and he went off with the two eggs in a pill-box. Then the little robins sat and cried all night. But when they looked into the nest in the morning they saw where the two bluey eggs had been a small pink egg—the colour of apple-blossoms. “I shall hatch this egg,” said Mrs. Robin firmly. “Poor little deserted thing!” “Take care it doesn’t turn out a cuckoo,” said her husband. But when the orchard was all pink and white with blossom, the egg was hatched, and out of it came no cuckoo but a real live Fairy in a pink gown. [Illustration] She kissed the Robins again and again. “You dears!” she said. “A wicked enchanter shut me up in that pink egg—and you know the only way to get anything alive out of an egg is to hatch it! So you’ve saved me. And—well, you’ll see.” And she shook out her gauzy wings and fluttered off. Suddenly the Robins heard a faint “Tweet, tweet.” Mrs. Robin flew to the nest, and there were two baby robins, and the Pink Fairy was sitting on the edge of the nest. And hundreds of pink apple-blossom fairies were crowding round. “They are your very own babies,” said the Pink Fairy. “While you were hatching me, my brothers and sisters stole your eggs from the Boy, and they’ve been hatched in Fairyland.” And that’s why two of the robins in our orchard sing more sweetly than any other robins in the world.