Then all the flowers that grew by the brook said, “Hear the music of the waters, as they dash along over the rocks, and look on them as they reflect the sunlight upon us, and make us bright and beautiful.” And the little mosses called out from the shades, “O let us always grow in the greenwood, and live in its shadows, and delight in its sweet voices.” Then the ferns waved joyfully, and the clematis clung round the elder in a close embrace; and they blessed themselves that they lived amid the lights and shades of the forest. Then spoke the “lilies of the field” to the little blue-eyed grass, that was looking up into the sky: “How merry are we in the meadows, where grows all that is greenest and freshest. Happiness pervades and fills the universe. It is above us with the birds and the clouds, around us with every flower and green leaf and blade of grass. Let man take a lesson from our kingdom and be wise; for all here are _happiest_ in the place allotted to them by their Creator.” * * * * * The following contains a very beautiful thought, and it is expressed with a simplicity that reminds us of Dr. Watts’ songs for children. GOOD NIGHT, LITTLE STAR. Good night, little star; I will go to my bed, And leave you to burn, While I lay down my head On my pillow to sleep, Till the morning light; Then you will be fading, And I shall be bright. We make one more quotation, and take leave of this little book, recommending it to all our young readers, who will find it at all the bookstores. WHAT IS IT MAKES ME HAPPIEST? What is it makes me happiest? Is it my last new play? Is it my bounding ball, or hoop I follow every day? Is it my puzzles or my blocks? My pleasant _solitaire_? My dolls, my kitten, or my books, My flowers fresh and fair? What is it makes me happiest? It is not one of these; Yet they are treasures dear to me, And never fail to please. O, it is looks and tones of love, From those I love the best, That follow me _when I do right_; These make me happiest! [Illustration] June. June is the first of the summer months, and it is, in our climate, the brightest and pleasantest of the year. The poet Thomson describes it as the season when ------------------Heaven descends In universal bounty, shedding herbs, And fruits, and flowers in Nature’s ample lap.