Then the young brave awakened. He sprang up and walked to a clear stream which flowed near the Indian village. On the waters floated beautiful white blossoms with delicate waxen leaves. Hundreds of lovely water-lilies were waiting there to surprise the Indian children and bring added joy into their lives. THE TALE OF TWO TAILS MARY H. WILSON "Taddypole and Pollywog Lived together in a bog; Here you see the very pool Where they went to summer school. "By and by—'tis true, though strange, O'er them came a wondrous change; Here you see them on a log, Each a most decided Frog." MOTHER'S PORTFOLIO. The little pond behind the machine-shop was full of tadpoles—wee fellows—all head and tail. Jolliest of these were Taddypole and Pollywog, two little cousins, who spent their time in countless swimming matches or games of hide-and-seek among the stones which bordered the pond. Barefooted boys and girls peeped over the edge of the water to watch the tadpoles darting hither and thither; then, with merry shouts, returned to their own play. Taddy's and Pollie's round eyes watched them curiously. Sometimes when the landbabies waded in the shallow water these tiny water-babies played fearlessly around their feet, nibbling their toes or playing leapfrog over them. So they passed merry days and when the twilight came, Taddy and Pollie were ready to listen to the band concert. This, unfortunately, was given on land, so the little tadpoles could not be present, but from the water they could catch glimpses of Father Frog booming away on his big bass drum, and hear the sweet chirping chorus of the tiny frog violinists in the marsh near by. "Oh, Pollie," cried Tadpole, "if we could only go to the concert! Why, I'd be willing to give up hide-and-seek for a week just to get a little nearer to the music." "I know," said Pollywog gloomily. "I want to go myself, the very worst kind of way. There's no use wishing, though, for we have no clothes that would be suitable. Only green silk dress suits with polka dots are worn this year. Besides, we can't stand it out of the water. It's too warm or something, I don't know just what, but I always feel half smothered if I try." "Besides," reflected Taddy, "we haven't been invited. Only musicians are asked, and we can't sing, you know." Splash! Ker-Chunk! Father Frog hopped into the water, then out again on a broad stone, where he began thundering a bass solo: "Come along, come along, Come along!" "Oh, how I wish we could!" cried the little tadpoles, feeling that this was a personal invitation. They swam as close as possible to the stone, and gazed admiringly at the great singer. "Could what?" grumbled Father Frog.