the sweetness of its sap and the excel- the former having the stamens arranged 



lence of its sirup and sugar. I saw an in pairs, and the anthers opening by 



estimate that maples produce at least slits. In the female flowers only traces 



one-fifth as much sugar as cane pro- of the stamen, and the ovary with one 



duces, and it is much more valuable per ovule in each of the eight cells sur- 



pQimd." mounted by four styles, hairy at the 



"I'll tell you the tree for me," inter- base. In our common persimmon the 



rupted Howard. "It's our old persim- calyx lobes increase in size as the fruit 



mon." ripens." 



"It is a fine tree belonging to the ebony "I've noticed," said Howard, "that if 



family," Aunt Jane responded. "You the fruit matures and ripens before frost 



know its scientific name is Diospyros, it is superior to that which requires frost 



which means Dios Jupiter, Pyros to remove the stringency, for frost does 



fruit fruit of Jupiter. not improve a really ripe persimmon." 



"And that fitly describes the golden "Let's have papaws now," cried John, 

 beauties which look like grandmother's "No; give me some chestnuts," said 



old-fashioned reticule, all drawn up with Madge. 



strings and a little ruffle around the top. "I'll take apricots," declared Alice. 

 The large, glossy leaves are polished. "You must all go to bed and dream 



The flowers pale orange color and about trees," said Aunt Jane, 

 not conspicuous, are male and female, BELLE PAXSON DRURY. 



Come, little one, to the window seat, 



A jolly old friend is here. 

 He has just come back from his warm retreat 



Now listen: "Cheer up cheer, cheer." 



'The best of the birdies!" I hear you say? 



Yes, little one, 'tis true. 

 He sings in our hearts while he sings out there, 



Though the skies be dark or blue. 



There's a legend old as ever was read, 



But better though oft it is told, 

 How the little brown bird got its breast so red 



Along with its heart of gold. 



On that saddest day of the long, long years, 



When the dear Christ bled and died 

 Our little brown friend saw the falling tears, 



And flew to the Saviour's side. 



In his tiny beak some drops he brought, 



To cool that parching brow, 

 Then brushed his breast 'gainst the one he sought, 



And he wears the blood stains now. 



O tender heart ; O bird so kind, 



We will love thee to the end ! 

 And the legend, though true or false we find, 



We are still your long-time friend. 



EDITH DRURY LEMINGTON. 



