‘The Boy’ and ‘The Girl’ were both abed, Their prayers were said; And each little curly silken head Was laid on its own downy pillow! When, sakes alive! Like bees from a hive, With a buzz and a boom that seemed to run From the earth to the sea, and from there to the sun, There came such a knock! Such a sharp rat-tat! That the boy woke up and said, ‘What’s that?’ And the girl from her bed jumped out on her hat! (A ridiculous place, you must all agree, On the bedroom floor for a hat to be!) And all the while, that rapid rat-tat, Made their little hearts beat ‘a-pity-poor-pat!’ Then the queerest of sounds On their quick ears fell! It was not a cry; And ’twas hardly a yell! But they both felt sure, as they sat so still, ’Twas the Stork had knocked with his hard long bill! But oh, it was an aching time! The Hall clock twice rang out its chime Ere Grandma came, and to them told, How the Stork had come through the night so cold! Had called and said, As they lay abed— As sound asleep as if they were dead; ‘Here’s the baby for which you prayed! A Baby Brother! I’ll leave him with mother! Treat him kindly and be not afraid!’ Then, like a star That shoots afar; Away he flew on pinions light, Oh, so swiftly through the night; Right away on aery wing, Through the pale moon’s Fairy Ring; On to where the Babies wait, Just beside God’s Golden Gate!” Everybody seemed to be pleased with the effort of the “Storks’ Companion”; but not to have a break in the night’s proceedings, “Sight,” the third of “The Five Story Tellers,” was called upon to tell a tale. And this is what he said:— THE RAINDROP’S STORY “Once upon a time, a long while ago, I stood upon a hill-top, watching the rain clouds drifting past. Suddenly a raindrop fell into the palm of my outstretched hand, and lay there looking at me! He was so clear and cool, so bright-eyed and so fearless, that I said to him: ‘Tell me, Raindrop, what is your story, and why do you fall?’ “And this is the tale he told:— “‘When I was very young, and very, very tiny, I lay upon the bosom of my mother, the Ocean. And many a time when I was inclined to be fretful, because the wind ruffled my spray-like hair, she gently rocked me off to sleep. “‘Then came a day when the sun held out his hands and arms to me in such a winning fashion, that before I knew what he was doing, he had lifted me up and placed me in the downy folds of a fleecy cloud. “‘At first I felt a little frightened, especially when I peeped down at the great big moving world beneath.