HOW THE BUTTERCUPS CAME 
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Then, sobbing softly, the two little children stole out 
of the door. Hand in hand they walked on, scarce know- 
ing where they went. At last they came to the foot of 
the black old pine. 
“Come,’’ said the boy. “The old pine does not care 
for our grief. Let us go to the valley. There we will 
find people with kind hearts. They will care for us.” 
The girl opened her soft, sad eyes, and stared at the 
boy. 
“Poor boy!” she said. “Your grief has made you 
forget. There is always the Christ Child who cares. To- 
morrow is Plis birthday.” 
Then she spied the Christmas roses blossoming so per- 
fectly in the snow. 
“Let us take these roses,” said the children, “and go 
to the church. We will pray that our mother may yet 
live.” 
The old, white-haired pastor m.et the children at the 
church-door. Together they entered and prayed. The 
roses, nodding in the little girl’s hand, seemed now to 
understand why they had bloomed so late. That night 
the mother’s fever turned. The mother began to grow 
better. There was joy in the little hut. 
HOW THE BUTTERCUPS CAME. 
Do you believe there is a bag of gold hidden away at the 
end of the rainbow? Do you think if you could only get 
there before the rainbow fades you would surely find the 
gold? Well, don’t you ever run verv far to find the end 
of the rainbow. Shall I tell you why? Well, then, the 
bag of gold is no longer there. It is much nearer home; 
and I can tell you the exact spot to find it 1 Go down 
in the meadow where the buttercups grow, and there you 
will find the gold which was once hidden at the end of the 
rainbow. 
Long ago, just as you have so often heard, the bag of 
gold lay at the farther end of the rainbow. But, long ago, 
somebody found it. Have you never heard about it? 
Many, many people looked for the gold, and they failed 
