“It will be all right,” she said aloud, “if you return it this minute.” “Attendants!” shouted Jack. “Attendants!” Out ran the tiny elves. “Take back the magic tree!” commanded Jack, “and apologize to Her Majesty for keeping it over time.” He took a little box out of his pocket. Opening it, he shook out a shining powder, and before the girls could see how it came about, the tiny tree just as they first saw it, growing in the little tub, was before them. The elves sprang to its sides. The little dog ran on before; and elves, dog and tree vanished from sight. “I wouldn’t have had it late for anything!” Jack spoke sadly. “You were teaching us so kindly,” said Mary Frances; “that was the reason you forgot. Oh, I’m so sorry.” “If you appreciate my lesson so much,” Jack said, smiling, “the Queen won’t mind at all.” “How glad we are!” cried the girls. “And now,” Jack went on happily, as Bet danced around; “now, I will begin a story about one cousin— A WICKED INNKEEPER As you know, plants hang out signs to attract Mrs. Bee and Mrs. Butterfly and other insects to the feast they have spread—the pollen and the nectar feast. The signs are the attractive colors of the flowers. One flower that hangs out a very pretty little white sign is the Sundew. The sign seems to say to the passing fly or gnat, “Come, rest upon one of my pretty, sparkling leaves, and take a meal at my pretty white blossom-table. Stop at Sundew Inn.” The little fly is charmed with the cordial invitation, and lights down upon one of the leaves which glisten all day with a substance that looks like dew. In a moment, he knows his mistake, for the sparkling drops are a sticky fluid which holds the little fellow fast, and the tiny hairs on the leaf’s surface bite him like so many mosquitoes! The leaf rolls up a little, and more of the sticky fluid pours upon him. It is the digestive fluid of the plant. The wicked Sundew Innkeeper is eating up his guest! “Just like the Spider and Fly in the old story,” said Mary Frances, repeating the lines: “‘Will you walk into my parlor?’ Said the spider to the fly, ‘’Tis the prettiest little parlor That ever you did spy.’” “Exactly!” agreed Jack. “The sundew invites the fly for the same reason that the spider does—because it needs it for food.” “Oh,” shuddered Eleanor, “do plants eat animals?” “Not if they can help it,” replied Jack. “Many, many years ago, when the sundew’s great-great-great-great-grandparents were unable to find the kind of food they needed, they developed this method of getting nitrogenous food, to keep from starving.” “Oh, I see,” said Mary Frances, looking wise. “Is the sundew the only plant which eats insects?” asked Eleanor; “and does it grow around here?” “It grows in every section of this country,” replied Jack, “and also in Europe and Asia.”