managed that it was a surprise to her. All guests were invited to assemble at one o'clock; at half past one they were seated in a spacious dining room, where tables were laid for twenty-four persons. The decorations of spring flowers were exceedingly beautiful; the bill of fare, consisting of a number of courses, had been arranged with much care. All guests were seated at the tables, when a lady, who had been appointed to do so, ushered in the guest of honor. At her entrance everybody rose; handkerchiefs were waved and she was received with great eclat! Everybody does not like to be surprised, and it requires a good deal of self-possession to face even a pleasant surprise without embarrassment; so that, as a rule, it is much better to take the guest of the day into your confidence; allow her to be present to receive her friends beforehand, and conduct her with ceremony to her place at the table; but, on the other hand, there is something very fascinating and exciting about a well-carried out surprise, and in either case the person who receives such a compliment should thereafter try to live so that her friends will continue to love her and be proud of her as they hitherto have. Such loving compliments leave upon one a great responsibility. It is like dressing up to one's gloves or one's best bonnet. One must live finely whose friends show that they have so much confidence in and respect for her.

Laugh a Little Bit.

Cherish this as sacred wit:

"Laugh a little bit."

Keep it with you, sample it:

"Laugh a little bit."

Little ills will sure betide you,

Fortune may not sit beside you,

Men may mock and Fame deride you,
But you'll mind them not a whit

If you laugh a little bit.

In Blueberry Time.

'Tis blueberry time, and the pasture
High up on the hill-side is sweet

With the fragrance of hay, and the incense
Of flowers you crush 'neath your feet.

The stone wall is crimsoned with briers,
The clematis tangles its spray,
The deep, wine-red plume of the sumac
Uplifts like a soldier at bay.

Bob White, with his silvery whistle,
Sings shrill from the heart of the corn,
And clear over fir-top and elm-top

The caw of the black crow is borne;
And night falls in shadow and silence,
Save only the katydid's strain,
And the hoot of the owl from the thicket,
Or the whippoorwill's plaintive refrain.

'Tis blueberry time in the mountains,
The time of the quiver of heat,
The time of the sudden down-slashing
Of rain that is welcome and sweet.
The bare-footed, brown, dimpled children
Troop out with their baskets and pails;
The rabbits are scared at their laughter,
And, startled, forth flutter the quails.

A Prayer for Little Things.

A little light, O Father, that my feet
Along life's devious ways may stumble not,
That I may give to virtue praises meet,

Nor all too harshly scan the sins that blot

And darken many a life that seemeth fair

But hides some blighting sin, some cankering care.

A little love, but changeless, pure and true,

That, when my soul faints 'neath life's heavy load And yields the race with victory in view,

Shall, like the fount that in the desert flowed, When Israel's prophet smote the frowning rock, Still give me strength for sorrow's rudest shock.

And one more boon, O Father, let me gain
When these worn hands are folded in repose,
And this sad heart, so often thrilled with pain,
Shall lose in death its trials and its woes;
Grant me, before Heaven's praises I begin,
A little space to rest, Thy courts within.

-Louise W. German.

Frances Willard's Counsel to Girls.

Miss Willard was constantly impressing it upon her hearers and readers that every woman, rich or poor, married or unmarried, should cultivate individuality and independence. One of the most characteristic chapters in her breezy, helpful book for girls, "How to Win," is the one in which she urges every young reader to cultivate a specialty. "By this means," she writes, "you will get into your cranium, in place of aimless reverie, a resolute aim." And she goes on to say:

"This is where your brother has had his chief intellectual advantage over you. Quicker of wit than he, far less unwieldy in your mental processes, swifter in judgment, and every whit as accurate, you still have felt when measuring intellectual swords with him that yours was in your left hand, that his was in his right; and you have felt this chiefly, as I believe, because from the dawn of thought in his sturdy young brain he has been taught that he must have a definite aim in life if he ever meant to swell the ranks of the somebodies upon this planet, while you have been just as sedulously taught that the handsome prince might whirl past your door ''most any day,' lift you to a seat beside him in his golden chariot and carry you off to his castle in Spain.

"And of course you dream about all this; why shouldn't you? Who wouldn't? But, my dear girls, dreaming is the poorest of all grindstones on which to sharpen one's wits. And to my thinking the rust of woman's intellect, the canker of her heart, the 'worm i' the bud' of her noblest possibilities has been this aimless reverie; this rambling of the thoughts; this vagueness, which when it is finished is vacuity. Let us turn our gaze inward, those of us who are not thoroughgoing workers with brain or hand. What do we find? A mild chaos, a glimmering nebula of fancies, an insipid brain soup where a few lumps of thought swim in a watery gravy of dreams, and, as nothing can come of nothing, what wonder if no brilliancy of achievement promises to flood our future with its light! Few women, growing up under the present order of things, can claim complete exemption from this grave intellectual infirmity."

Gifts to God.

The wise may bring their learning,
The rich may bring their wealth,
And some may bring their greatness,
And some bring strength and health.
We, too, would bring our treasures,
To offer to the King;

We have no wealth or learning-
What shall the children bring?

We'll bring Him hearts that love Him,
We'll bring Him thankful praise,
And young souls meekly striving
To walk in holy ways.

We'll bring the little duties
We have to do each day;
We'll try our best to please Him
At home, at school, at play.

And these shall be the treasures
We offer to the King.

And these are gifts that even
The poorest child may bring.

Summer in the Soul.

Since I have learned Thy love,
My summer, Lord, Thou art;
Summer to me, and day,

And life-springs in my heart

Thy blood blots out my sin,
Thy love casts out my fear;
Heaven is no longer far,

Since Thou, its sun, art near.

Summer! life-fountains! day!
Within-around-above,

Where we shall see Thy face,

Where we shall feel Thy love.

Some Time.

Some time, when all life's lessons have been learned,

And sun and stars forevermore have set,

The things which our weak judgments here have spurned,
The things o'er which we grieved with lashes wet,
Will flash before us, out of life's dark night,

As stars shine most in deeper tints of blue;
And we shall see how all God's plans are right,
And how what seemed reproof was love most true.

But not to-day. Then be content, poor heart!
God's plans like lilies pure and white unfold;
We must not tear the close shut leaves apart,
Time will reveal the calyxes of gold.
And if, through patient toil, we reach the land
Where tired feet, with sandals loosed, may rest,
Where we shall clearly see and understand,

I think that we will say, "God knew the best!"

-May Riley Smith.

A Love Song.

So near, so very near to God,

I cannot nearer be;

For in the person of His Son

I am as near as He.

So dear, so very dear to God,
More dear I cannot be;

The love wherewith He loves the Son-
Is the love He giveth me.

Why should I ever careful be,
Since such a God is mine?
He watches o'er me night and day,
And tells me, "Mine is thine."