It is not known whether he still believes in fairies; but one thing is certain--he never saw the little old enchanter again, nor the school-books that he had left with him. BLOSSOM-TIME. BY L. E. R. Snow, snow, down from the apple-trees, Pink and white drifting of petals sweet! Kiss her and crown her our Lady of Blossoming, There as she sits on the apple-tree sweet! Has she not gathered the summer about her? See how it laughs from her lips and her eyes! Think you the sun there would shine on without her? Nay! 'Tis her smile keeps the gray from the skies! Fire of the rose, and snow of the jessamine, Gold of the lily-dust hid in her hair; Day holds his breath and Night comes up to look at her, Leaving their strife for a vision so rare. Snow, snow, down from the apple-trees, Pink and white drifting of petals sweet! Kiss her, and crown her, and flutter adown her, And carpet the ground for her dear little feet! A SEARCH FOR THE LACE-LEAF. BY ALICE MAY. [Illustration] Early one morning, a palanquin carried by native bearers, and containing as passengers Mr. Steedman, an English missionary, and his little son Harry, was proceeding up the one street of Biforána, a queer little bamboo village on the island of Madagascar, situated about midway between Antananarivo, the capital, and the eastern coast. Comparatively little is known of Madagascar, although the unsuccessful attempt of France to obtain possession of it drew interest and attention to it not many months ago. There are but two larger islands in the world. As many of you know, it lies some two hundred and fifty miles to the east of the African coast, is nine hundred and eighty miles long and two hundred and fifty wide, and is therefore nearly four times as large as England and Wales combined. The Queen of this island kingdom is a young woman with the curious name of Rasendranovo Ranavalo III. She succeeded to the throne in 1883. She is a Christian, as is also a large part of the population of her realm; and there are numerous missionary stations throughout the island. Harry Steedman's father was one of these missionaries, and Harry himself was accustomed to traveling by palanquin, since there are no roads nor carriages to be found in Madagascar. [Illustration: "PASSING A GROVE OF PALMS KNOWN AS THE 'TRAVELER'S TREE.'"]