A SYLVAN EASTER 65 



**0 Polly, Polly/' sighed the bee, sadly shak- 

 ing her head, **I fear you have a fondness for 

 maple sugar." 



** And all the time," retorted Polly, **you are 

 thinking of honey." 



Which was quite true, for the bee turned 

 nimbly to the Norway maple. 



The Norway maple, a shining green, was 

 dappled all over with clusters of stars. 



*^My stars radiate the joy of the spring- 

 time," she breathed. 



^* 'Tis true," declared Polly, inhaling her 

 perfumed breath, ^*and you are the sweetest of 

 all!" 



**You know she is a foreigner," whispered 

 the bee, flying to the American elm. 



** After all," said the elm, *^back of a smile 

 lies the thought; and beyond the beauty of a 

 flower lies its meaning, the seed." 



*'The elm is apologizing for her seedy gar- 

 ment," said the horsechestnut bluntly. 



For the elm was covered with green samaras, 

 each encircled by a gauzy wing, notched at the 

 end and trimmed with silver f rino-e. 



