I'll bite this basket of fruit," said he, – Hannah F. Gould. LITTLE SNOWFLAKES. THE HE snowflakes fall so gently, For merry little feet, While cheeks grow round and rosy, Some children are like snowflakes, Their step is light and low, And when they walk from place to place, You ne'er can hear them go. Oh, let us be like snowflakes, So soft and pure and bright, And when God looks into our souls, He'll see a pleasing sight. —M. M. HELP ONE ANOTHER. ELP one another," the snowflakes said, "HEL As they cuddled down in their fleecy bed. "Help one another," the maple spray And then what a splendid shade there'll be." 'Help one another," the dewdrop cried, Seeing another drop close to its side; And we'll make a brook and run to the sea." "Help one another," a grain of sand And so the snowflakes grew to drifts; The grains of sand to a mountain; - Selected. LITTLE SNOWFLAKES. TILL and gentle all around, STILL Little snowflakes, soft and light As we watch these little flakes, Just like them are duties done, - Selected. TH THE FIRST SNOW. HE north wind doth blow, and we shall have snow, He'll sit in the barn and keep himself warm, And hide his head under his wing, poor thing. The north wind doth blow, and we shall have snow, The north wind doth blow, and we shall have snow, He'll sleep till warm weather comes back, poor thing. The north wind doth blow, and we shall have snow, And what will the children do then, poor things? When lessons are done they'll jump, skip, and run, And that's how they'll keep themselves warm, poor things. THE SNOW-SHOWER. EE, mamma, the crumbs are flying On the walks and everywhere. Oh, how glad the birds will be, "No, my little girl, 'tis snowing, 'Tis the winter of the year; "See the clouds the skies that cover, Selected. "If the robins food are needing, - Mary Lundie Duncan. LITTLE SHIPS IN THE AIR. FLAKES so LAKES of snow, with sails so white, Drifting down the wintry skies, Tell me where your route begins, "In the clouds, the roomy clouds, "And the cargo that you take From those cloudy ports above Is it always meant to bless, "Warmth for all the tender roots, This the cargo that we bring." "Who's the Master that you serve, Bids you lift your tiny sails, |