100 



THE AMERICAN BKK-KEKPER. 



April 



Within my gcrdi'n bouiids are set 

 Sweet nicrjci y and sad regret. 

 And •vvhcif njy orchard blossoms glow 

 The winds of life forever blow. 



Here falls the rain, here springs the 



seed. 

 The perfect flower, the perfect weed, 

 Eejoice together, side by side, 

 In equal sunlight, satisfied. 



The fruit that mingles gold and red 

 Is born of beauty withered. 

 The fruit that mingles red and gold 

 Ib young because the bough is old. 



My garden and the world Inclose 

 Alike the thistle and the rose. 

 My garden and the world are one 

 In kinship both of storm and sun. 



—New York Tribune. 



THE MIRROR. 



There was once a kingdom where mir- 

 rors were uukuown. They had all been 

 broken and reduced to fragments by or- 

 der of the queen, and if the tiniest bit 

 of looking glass had been found in any 

 house she would not have hesitated to 

 put all the inmates to death with the 

 most frightful tortures. 



Now for the secret of this extraor- 

 dinary caprice. The queen was dread- 

 fully ugly, and she did not wish to be 

 exposed to the risk of meeting her own 

 image, and knowing herself to be hide- 

 ous it was a consolation to know that 

 other women at least could not see that 

 they were pretty. 



You may imagine that the young girls 

 of the country were not at all satisfied. 

 What was the use of being beautiful if 

 you could not admire yourself y 



They might have used the brooks and 

 lakes for mirrors, but the queen had 

 foreseen that and had hidden all of them 

 nnder closely joined flagstones. Water 

 was drawn from wells so deep that it 

 •was impossible to see the liquid surface, 

 and shallow basins must be used instead 

 of buckets, because in the latter there 

 might be leflectious. 



Such a dismal state of affairs, es- 

 pecially for the pretty coquettes, who 

 were no more rare in this country than 

 in others ! 



The queen had no compassion, being 

 •well content that her subjects should 

 suffer as much annoyance from the lack 



of a mirror as she felt at the sight of 

 one. 



Eowever, in a suburb of the city there 

 lived a young girl called Jacinta, who 

 was a little better ofif than the rest, 

 thanks to her sweetheart, Valentin. For 

 if someone thinks you are beautiful and 

 loses no chance to tell you so he is al- 

 most as good as a mirror. 



"Tell mo the truth," she would say. 

 "What is the color of my eyes?" 



"They are like dewy f orgetmenots. " 



"And my skin is not quite black?" 



"You know that your forehead is 

 whiter than freshly fallen snow, and 

 your cheek? are like blush roses." 



"How about my lips?" 



"Cherries are pale beside them." 



"And my teeth, if you please?" 



"Grains of rice are not as white." 



"But my ears — should I be ashamed 

 of them?" 



"Yes, if you would be ashamed of 

 two little pink shells among your pretty 

 curls." 



And so on endlessly, she delighted, 

 he still mere charmed, for his words 

 came from the depth of his heart, and 

 she had the pleasure of hearing herself 

 praised, he the delight of seeing her. So 

 their love grew more deep and tender 

 every hour, and the day thai he asked 

 her to marry him she blushed certainly, 

 but ifc was not with anger. But, un- 

 luckily, the news of their happiness 

 reached <he wicked queen, whose only 

 pleasure was to torment others, and 

 Jacinta mere than any one else, on ac- 

 count of her beauty. 



A little while before the marriage 

 Jacinta v,as walking in the orchard one 

 evening when an old crone approached, 

 asking for alms, but suddenly jumped 

 back with a shriek as if she had stepped 

 on a toad, crying, "Heavens, what do I 

 see?" 



"What is the matter, my good wom- 

 an? Wbat is it you see? Tell me." 



"The ugliest creature I ever beheld." 



"Then you are not looking at me," 

 said Jacinta, with innocent vanity. 



"Alas! yes, my poor child, it is yon. 

 I have been a long time on this earth, 

 but never have I met any one so hideous 

 as you !" 



"What! Am I ugly?" 



"A hundred times uglier than I can 

 tell you. ' ' 



