THE idea has been transmitted from generation to generation, that happiness is one large and beautiful precious stone, a single gem so rare that all search after it is vain, all effort for it hopeless. It is not so. Happiness is a mosaic, composed of many smaller stones. Each taken apart and viewed singly, may be of little value, but when all are grouped together and judiciously combined and set, they form a pleasing and graceful whole--a costly jewel. Trample not under foot, then, the little pleasures which a gracious Providence scatters in the daily path, and which, in eager search after some great and exciting joy, we are apt to overlook. Why should we keep our eyes fixed on the distant horizon, while there are so many lovely roses in the garden in which we are permitted to walk? The very ardor of our chase after happiness may be the reason she so often eludes our grasp. We pantingly strain after her when she has been graciously brought nigh unto us. [Illustration: DID YOU DO IT, KITTY?] _Volume 13, Number 19._ Copyright, 1886, by D. LOTHROP & CO. _March 13, 1886._ THE PANSY. [Illustration: NETTIE.] REACHING OUT. (_A further Account of Nettie Decker and her Friends._) BY PANSY. CHAPTER V. I DARE say some of you think Nettie Decker was a very silly girl to care so much because her dress was a blue and white gingham instead of being all white. You have told your friend Katie about the story and asked her if she didn't think it was real silly to make such an ado over _clothes_; you have said you were sure you would just as soon wear a blue gingham as not if it was clean and neat. But now let me venture a hint. I shouldn't be surprised if that was because you never do have to go to places differently dressed from all the others. Because if you did, you would know that it was something of a trial. Oh! I don't say it is the hardest thing in the world; or that one is all ready to die as a martyr who does it; but what I _do_ say is, that it takes a little moral courage; and, for one, I am not surprised that Nettie looked very sober about it when the afternoon came. It took her a good while to dress; not that there was so much to be done, but she stopped to think. With her hair in her neck, still unbraided, she pinned a lovely pink rose at her breast just to see how pretty it would look for a minute. Miss Sherrill had left it for her to wear; but she did not intend to wear it, because she thought it would not match well with her gingham dress. Just here, I don't mind owning that I think her silly; because I believe that sweet flowers go with sweet pure young faces, whether the dress is of gingham or silk.