BUTTERFLY. 



Butterfly, on golden wings, 



Tell us of your wanderings ! 



Tell us of aerial spaces, 



Where, in pleasant sunshine places, 



You go sailing high and low, 



Wheresoever you would go ! 



Leisure, freedom, grace, is yours ; 

 Earth and air to you ensures 

 Findings for your utmost need. 

 Be it blossom, dewdrop, seed; 

 And you roam the fields of air, 

 Happy, and without a care. 



When the sudden storm comes down, 

 And the sun flees at its frown. 

 You with folded wings will hide 

 'Neath a leaf, and safely bide 

 Till the tempest flashes through, 

 And the sky is blue for you. 



Thus on rested wings you sail 

 In the wake of every gale, 

 Sailing high, or sailing low, 

 Whersoever you would go; 

 Pilgriming the great, blue sky ; 

 Bravo, little butterfly! 



M. D. TOLMAN. 



A PROLIFIC PEACH TREE STUMP. 



One day early in the spring, while tak- appear within and then he would with- 



ing bird notes I discovered a pair of draw himself and fly away with a tiny 



chickadees busily engaged in construct- chip of rotten wood in his beak. After 



ing a home. They had chosen an old the cavity was satisfactorily completed 



peach tree that stood just back of the they began lining the interior, which 



yard and were rapidly excavating a beau- formed the nest proper. These fastid- 



tifully rounded circle in the decayed ious little feathered architects consider 



stump. nothing less than soft clean fur suitable 



Perching in the mouth of the cavity material for a bed for their delicate 



the chickadee's body would almost dis- speckled eggs. In this instance rab- 



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