ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
THE CHILDREN. 
A H ! what would this world be to us 
If the children were no more ? 
We should dread the desert behind us 
Worse than the dark before. 
What the leaves are to the forest, 
With light and air for food, 
Ere their sweet and tender juices 
Have been hardened into wood — 
That to the world are children; 
Through them it feels the glow 
Of a brighter and sunnier climate 
Than reaches the trunks below. 
Come to me, O ye children ! 
And whisper in my ear 
What the birds and the winds are singing 
In your sunny atmosphere. 
Ye are better than all the ballads 
That ever were sung or said, 
For ye are the living poems, 
And all the rest are dead. 
Longfellow. 
HOW THE LEAVES CAME DOWN. 
^T’LL tell you how the leaves came 
X down,” 
The great tree to his children said: 
“ You’re getting sleepy, Yellow and Brown, 
Yes, very sleepy, little Red.” 
“ Ah ! ” begged each silly pouting leaf 
“ Let us a little longer stay; 
Dear Father Tree, behold our grief ; 
’Tis such a very pleasant da}', 
We do not want to go away.” 
So, just for one more merry day 
To the great tree the leaflets clung, 
Frolicked and danced, and had their 
way, 
Upon the autumn breezes swung. 
Whispering all their sports among. 
“ Perhaps the great tree will forget. 
And let us stay until the spring, 
If we all beg, and coax and fret.” 
But the great tree did no such thing; 
He smiled to hear their whispering. 
“ Come, children all, to bed,” he cried;— 
And ere the leaves could urge their 
prayer. 
He shook his head, and far and wide, 
Fluttering and rustling everywhere, 
Down sped the leaflets through the air. 
I saw them; on the ground they lay, 
Golden and red, a huddled swarm, 
Waiting till one from far away, 
White bedclothes heaped upon her arm 
Should come to wrap them safe and warm. 
The great bare tree looked down and smiled. 
“Good-night, dear little leaves,” he said. 
And from below each sleepy child 
Replied, “ Good-night,” and murmured, 
“It is so nice to go to bed 1 ” 
Susan Coolidge. 
