Wooden pails hung on all the maple-trees. The sap was running into them. When the pails were full of sap John, the hired man, brought it into the little sugar house and boiled it, and made nice cakes of maple sugar. The house had a great fireplace. A bright fire was crackling there. Trudy sat down on a stool and warmed her toes. [Illustration: TRUDY.] There was a big black kettle over the fire; it was almost full of sap. It bubbled and boiled and made a good smell. John stirred it with a long wooden spoon. He stirred and stirred a long time, and the fire snapped and the sap boiled, and Trudy watched, and by and by it was done! Then papa got a pan of snow, and John dropped little bits from the spoon all over the snow. When it was cool Trudy put in her thumb and finger, and plump! went one of the little brown balls into her mouth. Oh! but it was good. Trudy thought maple candy was ever so much better than the pink and white stuff she bought at the stores. She ate and ate, till papa said, “No more, dearie.” So she carried the rest of it to little brother. They rode home on the wood sled, drawn by two big oxen. Trudy said it was just the “beautifulest time” she ever had in her life. She whispered to papa that she thought God was very good to make so many big trees full of candy just to please little girls and boys. MRS. C. M. LIVINGSTON. [Illustration: The Little Queen] THERE you have a fine Holland house, a palace rather. Come, let us go in. Just think, you have a royal invitation. Well, here we are. In this elegant room is a kingly throne. In that beautiful chair sits the little Queen of Holland. Doesn’t this Miss look like a wise sovereign, able to command armies and navies and make laws? Now you laugh. But come out into her big back yard, and you shall see our little maid rule her subjects. See how obedient they are, running to her or fleeing from her as fast as their legs can carry them—and their wings too— “Wings!” Why, bless you, yes. This little Queen has one hundred and fifty cooing doves. She is their beloved mistress, feeding and fondling them, calling them by name, they laughing, singing, talking for her, after the dear dove fashion. But look! there comes the Shetland pony, and quick as a cat she is on his back, and away they go down the road, gallopty, gallop, she tossing back a kiss to her mamma, the Queen Regent, who looks from the palace window. There she comes back, her face full of roses and laughter. Twenty minutes more, and she is a student like any of you, with spelling-book, pen or geography, or thumbing the piano or reading aloud to her mother. She is her mother’s constant companion. She is up at 7 A. M., and kneeling at her mother’s knee, says her morning prayers. She is often dressed completely in white, even to gloves and stockings. Watch and see what she will be in coming years. L.