"The beggar only shook his head; he did not believe that a girl was worth even thanking, and that anyone should bother to teach her was past his belief, and so the little girl passed on. "I am telling you this story," said the Tiger Lily, "that you may know how much good your pennies do that you drop into the missionary box, for you see by the kind act of that little girl the Chinese girls are worth saving, for they are kind and good and grow up to be a blessing to their country." "What became of the beggar?" asked Martha. "The little girl reached the mission," the Lily said, "and they sent some one from there to take the beggar away. Very likely the missionaries took care of him." "I am glad you told me that story," said Martha. "I shall try to save more pennies now to send to the little girls in China." The Tulip spoke next. "I am afraid," she said, "that my story will not be very interesting, but I don't suppose that many people know that I bloomed long ago in Constantinople, the city of beautiful hills, where the mosques and the tombs and the fountains make a strange picture in the moonlight. "There the ladies wear queerly draped gowns and their veiled faces leave only their bright eyes exposed. "Afterward I bloomed in a country where everybody seems happy, and that is the land I love best. The children in that country look like little stuffed dolls in their many petticoats and close-fitting bonnets around their chubby little faces. Their little shoes clatter over the stones, sounding like many horses in the distance. There I was best loved and grew in profusion and beauty around the quaint homes of these quaint-looking people. "Ah, me, it is a long way from here," sighed the Tulip, "and I often long to hear the sound of the Zuider Zee as I did once long ago." "Why, she has gone to sleep," said Martha as the Tulip closed and drooped her head, "and I must go in the house. Grandmother will be looking for me." "Will you come again?" asked the flowers; "there are many more that have stories to tell." "I shall be glad to hear them," said Martha, "for I had no idea that flowers could tell such interesting stories." WHEN JACK FROST WAS YOUNG [Illustration: When Jack Frost was Young] Not that he is old now, for Jack is a snappy, bright fellow, and will never really grow old--that is, in anything but experience. And that is exactly what this story is about, the time when Jack Frost was young in experience and would not listen to his mother, old Madam North Wind. One morning he awoke and hustled about with a will, and Madam North Wind, who had not yet begun to arise early in the morning, was aroused from her slumbers. "Whatever are you doing, making such a noise at this time in the morning?" she asked her son. "It is time I was on my round," said Jack Frost, in a snappy, sharp tone. "I mean to begin early and not let all the farmers get ahead of me and get their corn and pumpkins and such things in the barn.