"Great Manabozho," said the speaker, "the animals of the woods find rose-bushes such delicious food that they eat blossoms, leaves, and stems. Our number is decreasing so rapidly that in a little while there will be none left to gladden the earth. The destruction of your hedge proves how ruthlessly the animals destroy us. Help us, O Chief! Devise some plan to protect us." "You shall, indeed, have my help," said Manabozho, thoughtfully. For some time the chief was silent. Then he said, "I'll give _you_ weapons and you shall protect yourselves. Sharp thorns shall grow on your branches and needle-like prickles shall cover the stems which hold your lovely blossoms. While you are armed with these, the cruel animals will not venture to touch you." The messengers thanked Manabozho with all their hearts. Delighted with his gift, they hastened back to tell the Council how the Great Chief had saved the roses of the world. Ever since that day roses have had thorns. Adapted from _Algonquin Indian Tales_, by Egerton R. Young. Copyright, 1903, by Egerton R. Young. Reprinted by permission of the Abingdon Press, Publishers. SWEET PEAS Here are sweet peas, on tiptoe for a flight, With wings of gentle flush o'er delicate white And taper fingers catching at all things, To bend them all about with tiny rings. JOHN KEATS. A LEGEND OF THE PRIMROSE In a cottage which stood near a large meadow lived a poor woman and her little child Elizabeth. The mother earned a scant living by spinning and weaving. She was not strong and could work for only a few hours at a time. Each morning after the little girl had swept the cottage she ran to the meadow and gathered a large bunch of golden primroses. They were her mother's favorite flowers and Elizabeth knew that their sunny color brought good cheer to the room where her mother worked. One fair morning Elizabeth wandered far across the meadows searching for the brightest blossoms. She filled her arms with the sweetest primroses she could find and turned to hasten back to the cottage when she saw standing near her a lovely little creature. Her dress was made from the golden petals of the primrose and so were her dainty shoes. On her head sparkled a tiny crown studded with yellow jewels. She carried a fairy basket which held a number of wonderfully beautiful primroses. "Elizabeth," said the little creature, speaking in the most friendly way, "I'm the queen of the key-flower fairies. Tell me why you choose daily to pluck our blossoms." "These are primroses," said Elizabeth, looking at the flowers in her arms. "Yes, yes, I know that is the name you mortals call them but their proper name is the key-flower," nodded the fairy.