6o 



Hatties Hat, 



barrow full of tiny pots, in which the roses 

 had been started. He was whistling too, 

 and Cock Robin could not refrain from 

 joining in. John looked up, nodded, and 

 said: 



"Sing away old chap, the summer is nearly 

 here," and then he went to work digging 

 little holes, carefully planting the rose plants, 

 and pushing in the cool earth around them. 

 There were a great many plants, and the 

 Robin finally tired of watching him, and 

 flew back to his nest to see if his wife 

 needed him. 



As he sat on a branch over his nest he 

 could see the man mowing the grass on the 

 lawn. Back and forth he went, the machine 

 singing a merry, whirring song. He stop- 

 ped in the shade of a maple tree to draw 

 breath, and take a long draft of cool water 

 from a fat brown pitcher, and then on he 

 went again, leaving a long, smooth track, and 

 a sweet smell of new mown hay behind him- 



The sun was nearly overhead now, and 

 the Robin was warm and tired, so away he 

 went to a cherry tree, and safely perched in 

 the shade, he dozed and dreamed through 

 all the hot noon hours. 



Presently, when the sun was well on his 

 westward way, and the trees threw long, 

 slender shadows on the grass. Miss May, 

 the golden-haired daughter of the house, 

 came out to sit under the cherry trees, and 



Cock Robin wondered why she did not find 

 a more interesting book, as every few min- 

 utes she dropped the one she had to look 

 down the path. He heard his wife calling 

 him just then, and when next he passed 

 the cherry tree he saw a dark manly head 

 bending closely to the golden one, and sang 

 his tenderest, sweetest song as he thought 

 of his own courtship in the spring time. 



Then the signs of evening began. In the 

 garden John had finished his planting, and 

 had left the beds and paths freshly raked 

 and neat. The children, with smooth 

 brushed hair, and fresh white dresses, came 

 sedately up the path, returning from their 

 afternoon walk. The big house dog 

 bounded out to meet them, barking wildly 

 and leaping up to kiss their faces, and in a 

 second sedateness vanished, and with shouts 

 of laughter they raced over the lawn, on 

 which the evening dew was falling. 



And then came the even song. From far 

 and near sounded the twittering and chirp- 

 ing, the air was heavy with melody and 

 perfume; from countless flower censers, in- 

 cense mounted to the sky, and the choir of 

 bird voices flooded the twilight with song. 

 Slowly the light faded, as though sad to- 

 leave so fair a scene; one by one the birds 

 were hushed, until at last the soft wind 

 stirring the leaves was the only sound of 

 the night. N. B. G. 



HATTIE'S HAT. 



HATTIE came in with a bright color 

 and eyes that flashed. 



"Aunt Marjorie," she exclaimed, "is 

 there anything wrong with my dress? I 

 met Cousin Ed, and he said: 'Good morn- 

 ing, dear. May I ask, when did you arrive 

 from Tonga?' And when I said, 'Please 

 explain. Cousin Ed, I do not understand,' 

 he answered, ' Pardon me; I was looking at 

 your head, mademoiselle.' " 



On Hattie's hat, nestling daintily among 

 the ribbons, was a tiny wren. On another 



of her hats, as I remembered, there was a 

 gray wing, the wing of some sea bird; and 

 still another was adorned with golden 

 plumes. 



" My darling child," I said, " in the Tonga 

 Islands travelers tell us that the ladies wear 

 whole forestfuls of birds on their bonnets, 

 and trim their gowns with feathers. In 

 some of the.se, and in the Malay Islands, 

 the men wear garments composed of feath- 

 ers, and have queer dances, in which they 

 look very grotesque, for each has mounted 



