"Do give it to me," she said. "I sha'n't like you a bit, if you don't: I shall think you are just as stingy--" "But it's all I have," said Lily; "I can't give it away. I can't. Wait till to-morrow, and there'll be some more out. They're growing. There'll be some all round to-morrow or next week." "To-morrow! I want it now, to-day," said her friend, "to-day's better than to-morrow." Lily looked at the child and then at the dandelion. "I suppose it would be mean to keep it," she said, "but it is so lovely--_can't_ you wait?" "Oh, well, keep it, you stingy girl!" [Illustration: {THE LITTLE GIRL ASKS FOR THE DANDELION.}] "Come and pick it yourself, then," said Lily, with tears in her eyes. The next day, when Lily went into the yard, there were a dozen golden dandelions, like stars in the grass, and a little blue violet was blooming all alone by itself. MARY N. PRESCOTT. [Illustration: {A GIRL AND BOY WALK ALONG A ROAD.}] WHERE? Where is the honey-bee? Where has the swallow flown? Only the chickadee Chirrups his song alone. Where is the bobolink, Bubbling with merriment? What was the road, think, The gadding fire-fly went? Whither flew the little wings Grown in green forest aisles? Where are the pretty things That blossomed miles on miles? MARY N. PRESCOTT. [Illustration: {THE GOAT ON THE RAILROAD TRACK.}] A GOAT IN TROUBLE. A few weeks ago, as I was crossing a railroad track just outside of the city, a little goat stepped before me. With a sad cry, she seemed to ask me to stop. I turned aside to pass on, but she kept brushing against me, until I finally decided to find out what she wanted. The goat had wandered from her usual browsing place. In crossing the railroad track she had caught her chain on a rail, and could not get away. I stooped down and let her loose. Then she pressed against me as if to thank me, and bounded off quickly to her old pasture. If we would always listen to the cries of animals in distress, we might do a great deal of good. Just after I had released the goat, a train of cars came rushing along, and she would certainly have been killed if I had not attended to her. L. B. P. [Illustration: {THE BIRD SINGING.}] A NEGRO MELODIST.