A CLEVER LITTLE LADY. 



Virginia enjoyed wandering over the 

 beautiful hills of California in search of 

 golden poppies, but it was warm this 

 morning and so she lingered with her 

 mother beneath a spreading fig tree, 

 where the birds sang joyously above her 

 head. 



The little girl was weaving a crown 

 of pomegranite blossoms for her doll. 

 The fig tree threw its fragrant shade 

 about her. The sunbeams danced 

 among the leaves, and now and then 

 was borne to her a sweet message from 

 the young orange blossoms, just burst- 

 ing into bloom. Butterflies and hum- 

 mingbirds flitted about in the soft air. 

 Everything sported and danced with the 

 mere joy of Uving. 



Just then a little breeze came along 

 and whispered to the fig tree, which in 

 turn stirred gently, and from out its 

 green depths something bright and 

 beautiful and shining like an emerald, 

 fell upon the child's white gown. What 

 was it? It was not a little green stone 

 as Virginia first thought, but some- 

 thing much more precious, for it was 

 alive. 



"See this beautiful little bug, Mam- 

 ma," called Virginia. 



"Why sure enough, it's a lady bug," 

 said mother, "and the prettiest one I 

 ever saw." 



At that the little creature, as if proud 

 of being noticed, commenced to strut 

 up and down and to turn her head from 

 side to side, and a sunbeam slanting 

 through the fig leaves fell upon her, 

 causing her burnished body to shine 

 more brightly. 



"Isn't she beautiful, Mamma?" de- 

 lightedly cried Virginia. 



"Yes, daughter, she is indeed a very 

 fine little lady all dressed in green satin, 

 which is good, for no other color would 

 be so useful to her." 



"Why not. Mamma?" 



"Don't you see that the bug's green 

 clothing is a protection?" 



Virginia shook her head. "No, I 

 don't see how that can be." 



"She lives in the fig tree," explained 

 mother, "and she is just the color of 



the leaves. Now if this little lady were 

 red or white, the birds, her enemies, 

 could easily see and catch her. But 

 God takes care of the little bug, and so 

 He made her dress the color of her 

 home, which makes her very hard to 

 find." 



"I'm so glad," said the little girl, with 

 a sigh of relief. "I think she must be 

 an Army lady," she went on, "for see 

 her dress is trimmed with bands of 

 gold." 



Virginia's father was an Army officer 

 and the little girl liked gold braid. 



"She's very fine," agreed mamma. 



"Do you think I might keep her for 

 a pet?" asked Virginia. 



"She's pretty enough for a pet, daugh- 

 ter, but do you think she would be 

 happy if we took her from her lovely 

 green home? I'm sure she would not, 

 so we'll let her go," and mother gently 

 brushed the bug from Virginia's sleeve, 

 saying, 



"Lady bug, lady bug, fly away home." 



"Oh, Mamma!" cried Virginia in dis- 

 tress, "you've killed the poor little bug!" 



The little creature had fallen in Vir- 

 ginia's lap all stiff and stark with feet 

 curled up. 



It was strange that so light a touch 

 could have wrought such evil. Mamma 

 could hardly believe her eyes. 



"Wait a minute," she said, as Virginia 

 reached out her hand to take the bug. 

 "Let's see if she is playing 'possum." 



"What's that. Mamma?" 



"The oppossum and some other ani- 

 mals and insects pretend that they are 

 dead if any thing tries to hurt them," 

 explained Mamma, "and thus often es- 

 cape from their enemies. This in an- 

 other safeguard which the kind All- 

 Father has given them." 



Virginia looked hopefully up into her 

 mother's face and then down at the tiny 

 creature in her lap. 



"I'm 'fraid this poor little bug is 

 really dead," she mournfully said, "for 

 her feet are all drawn up, don't you 

 see?" 



"We'll wait a minute to be sure," en- 

 couragingly said mother. 



