He led the way to the library. He took down a huge set of maps, a great portfolio of engravings, and two or three heavy picture books. "We will visit India," said he. "Hurrah," said Tom. "Tiger hunts, elephant rides, jungles, snake charmers, jolly old idols, and the Parsee merchants." Tom knew very well what it meant when papa gave his mind up to turning over picture books and talking as he turned. They did have a good time; and before three o'clock it cleared away, and though it was too late for the picnic they had planned, it was the most perfect picnic weather, and as papa wanted to trim up cedars on the knoll by the lake, they all went down. Papa and mamma played with them for a while like an older brother and sister. They harnessed the children in a "four-horse team," and drove up and down until the "little colts" had had enough of fun and were glad to sit in the arbor and watch papa trim trees. [Illustration: A PICNIC AFTER ALL.] THE STORY OF A CANE. Was it a shiny black cane with a gold head? No. I think you never saw a cane like this one. It was made out of a small balm-of-Gilead-tree. It belonged to John Reed. He taught school. He was eighteen years old. When vacation came, John walked home. It was forty miles, and a pretty long walk. But there were no railroads in those days, and John did not like to ride in a stage-coach. He thought he could walk more easily with a cane to help him. So he made this cane I am going to tell you about. When he got home he stuck this cane into the ground in the lane, and then forgot all about it. But the cane was alive! When John stuck it into the ground it began to drink up the water from the soil. Tiny green leaves sprouted out all over it. John saw it one day. How surprised he was! It grew all summer long. The next year the branches began to grow; and year by year it grew larger and larger till it was fifty years old. Then John Reed was sixty-eight years old; the little children called him "Grandpa Reed." [Illustration: GRANDPA REED.] They called the great balm-of-Gilead-tree in the lane "Grandpa's cane." They used to like to put their arms about it and look up into the branches. They thought it wonderful that a cane should grow into such a big tree. Then came the great Civil War. Your mamma or auntie can tell you about it. There were a great many wounded soldiers, and the people used to send bandages and lint for their wounds. Do you know what lint is? It is made of linen cloth. It is soft, like wool. Grandpa Reed had a little granddaughter Clara. Clara saw the women and girls making lint, and she wanted to make lint too. But aunt Mary said she was not big enough to make lint. [Illustration: CLARA.] "But I will tell you," said aunt Mary, "where you can find some nice lint;" and she took her out to the great balm-of-Gilead-tree in the lane.