MORNING GLORY AND MULLEIN. 



There are sweet and lovely things to 

 be found almost everywhere. Perhaps 

 that is the reason the morning glory sent 

 up its vine in a fence corner. The fence 

 was a zigzag rail fence, and was looked 

 upon by the picket fence as being very 

 ugly ; but the Morning-glory did not 

 know it, and the red squirrel did not 

 know it, either, so he often sat upon it to 

 eat a nut, holding his tail curled like a 

 plume over his back ; or he ran the whole 

 length of it, starting in the shade of the 

 deep wood where he lived, where ferns 

 spread out, fanlike, along the fence, on, 

 past the big field, where blackberry vines 

 clustered close to it, and then past the 

 orchard, where apple trees leaned over 

 it, and big sweetings and russets dropped 

 in the grassy corners. Just beyond the 

 orchard the old rail fence joined the 

 white picket fence, and neither liked the 

 other, and the squirrel showed which he 

 liked best by turning around and run- 

 ning back. 



The Morning-glory grew right up 

 among sorrel and clover, and ran up the 

 fence, and held its buds up above the top 

 rail, and waved about wildly in the 

 breeze, which was the proper thing for it 

 to do, as it was a wild Morning-glorv. 

 It thought the world was such a beauti- 

 ful place, and was so glad it had all the 

 time there was to be happy in, and was 

 doing so when its buds began to open. 

 They were very white and tender, and 

 felt as pure as the sky, and just as they 

 were peeping around with wonder and 

 delight, a farmer came along with a lit- 

 tle girl, and she cried out, 



"Oh, father, see that lovely Morning- 

 glory on the old fence." 



The farmer did not look happy as ev- 

 erything else did, and he said, crossly : 

 "It is not lovely ; it is a nasty weed." At 

 this the Morning-glorv was so surprised 

 and shocked that a faint blush spread 

 over the pearly faces of all her blossoms, 

 but before she could even sigh, the man 



and the child were gone, and a big Mul- 

 lein plant near by said, soothingly : 



"Guess you are no more a weed than 

 that freckled faced girl with red hair." 



Xow the Morning-glory felt hurt 

 again, for she liked the little girl who 

 liked her ; but she was so much pleased 

 that the tall stiff Mullein had spoken to 

 her that she said : 



"What a nice place it is here." 



"Not at all," answered the Mullein, 

 "it's a lonesome, dull place, where no- 

 body sees us." 



"Well, we can be happy over what we 

 see ourselves. I feel as though we were 

 put here to be happy." 



"You have no ambition," answered 

 the Mullein. "Here I have shot up this 

 tall stalk and put forth such a number of 

 golden bloom, all to no purpose. I don't 

 believe the one who made us grow here 

 did what was best for us. There are 

 flowers whose life is for some purpose." 



"How do you know?" asked the Morn- 

 ing-glory. 



"I learned it from the little girl. She 

 came here with a companion in the 

 spring and took my largest, softest leaves 

 for blankets for her tiny dolls, and she 

 told the other girl that she wore pansies 

 on her breast on Sundays, and was go- 

 in^ to take some big red peonies to 

 church on Children's day. I think it is 

 so stranee that I was made to grow in a 

 fence corner." 



Just then the sun fell brightly on the 

 Morning-glory's faces, and briehtened it 

 a little, and it began to hide them, but a 

 breeze whispered to it : 



"Never fear, though some of your 

 blossoms close, others will open tomor- 

 row." 



Then it felt so glad that it threw up 

 some tendrils to the ends of the rails, and 

 climbed higher, and said : 



"I am sure that life is good." 



And afternoon came, and evening 

 came, and stars looked down, and dews 



12 



