smiled as its vision swept the full length of the valley and saw everywhere yielding winter's swift departure.

Drawing back the icy covering from a wondrously bright little stream, which had been sleeping warm and snug in its very bosom, the loving Nature-mother said:

"Awake, my child; the day has come when you must begin your life anew. The time has come when the many lessons I have taught, as together we talked of the wide world you are about to enter, are to be your only guide as you journey. You will not forget, I am sure, that you have a mission sweet and true to fulfil, and for no cause, however tempting, are you to lose sight of that which you are to accomplish. You will see many failures, no doubt, from sources that show weakness of purpose; but let each failure serve to strengthen your aim, and so will you be enabled to join your brothers and sisters who have also been true."

With fond caresses and many promises to remember, the little stream slowly withdrew itself from its icy garments and went winding down the mountain-side, now leaping, now resting, then onward again, laughing, dancing, and singing in the full joy of young life and perfect freedom. For many days it wound in and out among friendly hills, greeting each with a cheery and helpful message; and its song took a deeper tone of gratitude as it remembered the loving, watchful care it had ever known.

One evening, as the sun was setting and a beautiful quiet of peace and protection seemed to settle upon all Nature, a bright gleam of water from between a cluster of bordering hills caused the stream to start with joy.

"At last," it mused, "I am to have a companion on my journey. But why is it not coming this way, I wonder? There is a nice channel and all streams flow westward from this side of the range: so Mother said, and she must know. I wonder if it does not know about it? I will call, and see."

So saying, its little song increased in volume until one listening might have credited the stream with twice the size it really bore. But there was no response to its call-nothing but the bright streak of blue that was fast darkening as the shadows deepened.

"Now, that is queer," thought the stream. "Surely it must be lost, and perhaps discouraged. I shall run over and see. It is not far, and in case we may not journey together I can surely find my way back before twilight is gone."

So, with never a fear of the coming darkness, nor a thought of the many cautions stored away to be used on just such occasions, the foolish little stream turned aside, and swiftly, because of its impatience to know, it sped through the open gap of hills. And there its astonished eyes beheld a sluggish little lake, slimecovered in patches. Then the stream understood that here was an aimless life, with not even a desire to send forth a warning call to those who might be led astray by its presence in the valley!

With piteous cries and prayerful murmurings the little stream desperately struggled to turn back on its course; but treacherous rocks and unyielding soil fought its every move. Still it struggled, aiming constantly, though never hopelessly in spite of failures, to gain its lost course to the west. Sometimes it would succeed a little and again it would lose the hold it had gained, and, with a mad rush, would plunge nearer the now black slimy border of the lake. But, with a strength born of determination, it would seek a new channel, compelling the stones and gravel to yield and form a partial protection from the awful danger. Poor little stream! How it longed to be released from that night of struggle and horror!

Just as the sun, on its upward journey, flushed the mountain peak, the home where it had known such joy and security, the brave little child of the winter snows plunged beneath the surface of the earth for a considerable distance, emerging again with a mighty rush as if to regain at one leap all it had lost by delay. All the day it moved onward, singing in glad notes of its mighty deliverance and ever sending forth a warning cry to any who, curious as itself, might be led aside. Its every move was watchful now, and its course well defined and straight. There was no wavering attending its motion, but, ever hopeful and thankful, it drew unto itself many waters that swelled its volume with triumphant power. Each day saw it nearer its goal; each night heard its grateful prayer of thanksgiving mingled with the many prayers of those journeying with it. And, when at last it once.

more caught a glimpse of bounding waters ahead, its call was silenced by the mighty roar of old Ocean, as with resounding voice he recounted the victories of the faithful who for ages had added to his strength and fulfilled their mission by mingling with his power-that mighty power of God in Nature. And, as the stream, subdued, thankfully mingled its waters with those of the great deep and was carried high on the breast of the outgoing tide, its heart thrilled with joy that at last it was safe; but a minute after it sank with a sorrowful remembrance of the poor little lake, aimless and useless, that served but as a snare for the careless. Then, with a glance away to the horizon's rim, where snowy peaks lifted high their heads, the stream sank gratefully to rest, knowing that to the source of its life among those peaks and to the kind God of Nature over all it had not been untrue. RUBY M. BYERS.

THE TONE OF VOICE.

It is not so much what you say

As the manner in which you say it;
It is not so much the language you use
As the tones in which you convey it.

The words may be mild and fair,

And the tones may pierce like a dart;
The words may be soft as the summer air,
And the tones may break the heart.

For words but come from the mind,
And grow by study and art;

But the tones leap forth from the inner self,
And reveal the state of the heart.

Whether you know it or not—

Whether you mean or care-
Gentleness, kindness, love and hate,
Envy and anger, are there.

Then, would you quarrels avoid

And in peace and love rejoice,

Keep anger not only out of your words
But keep it out of your voice.

-The Youth's Companion.

WHY TIMMY LIVED ALONE.

Little Timmy lived alone. There was a big hollow tree in his cage, or rather a make-believe one, where only Timmy climbed, and there was a wire nest suspended in a corner solely for his use. This was Timmy's establishment. I wondered why my landlady did not try to find some other little squirrel to keep house with Tim, to help crack nuts and store them away, and to be a sort of helpmeet for him. It isn't natural for any living thing to live alone. This is why I had so much sympathy for little Timothy. Every bird of the air, every crawling worm, every animal of the wood-even the lion of the forest-has its mate and a family of its own. And if we have one pet horse or cat or dog we may always know that it has somehow lost or has been separated from its mate.

Of course, I made all sorts of guesses as to why Timmy lived alone. I tried to get familiar with him. He loves milk, and after he has lapped dry the dish that holds the milk and has tried in vain to lug it off or to break it as he would a nut for something inside, I have coaxed him to let me stroke his head just by letting him lap my finger tipped with sweet milk. But even then he often tosses back his head, as if to say, "Not quite so familiar, if you please."

But one day the lady of the house, thinking I was wasting my sympathy, told me something I was very sorry to hear.

Now, Tim was a gray squirrel, and he and a companion were pounced upon in the woods by some fierce red squirrels and nearly killed. A man rescued them and brought them home, because he knew that the red squirrels. would surely kill them, and he made them as comfortable as he could in a great roomy cage. The hollow tree in the cage was big enough for several squirrels to play "hide-and-seek" in at the same time. They had plenty of nuts and other good things in abundance, and very happy they were for days and days. Busy as bees they frolicked or cracked nuts, which they held up to their mouths with their little forepaws and nibbled away while their bushy tails stood up straight. And every night they wriggled themselves deep down into their

soft bed of cotton until only their two little brown noses could be seen through the loose fluffy cotton.

But gradually there came to be a falling out. Tim's way was to eat only just what he needed and store the rest away; but soon he discovered that the other squirrel did nothing but crack nuts and eat the whole day long.

Now, when squirrels live their natural life in the woods they know they must store away all the nuts they can find, for winter will be coming when every eatable thing will be covered up by deep snows. Timmy hadn't forgotten the long cold days and weeks, and he felt that he must save up every summer's day as he used to in the woods. It troubled him to see his mate so wasteful, and soon they began to quarrel about it. Every day it was the same old story. Timmy wanted to save and the other squirrel wouldn't help him. Then Timmy began to stir up trouble by pushing the little squirrel out of its nest; and one morning on the floor of the cage Timmy's mate lay dead!

Poor little Timmy! How much better it would have been had he talked it over with his chum and tried to show how necessary it was to lay by for a snowy day. With a few kind words they might have lived together savingly and happily instead of chattering angrily at each other without trying to see what kindness and patience would do.

MARY J. WOODWARD-WEATHERBEE.

THE WHITE PALACE.

In the land that is called "Leal," where the flowers never fade,— where things not only seem but truly are, there is a very beautiful white palace, with a wide and shining portal from which there is a narrow pathway down the mountain-side. Before this portal sits a wise old man wrapped in a great gray cloak. And one by one, as people old and young come to the portal's shining arch, he stops them with the single question, "Why?"

Now, the palace, which is sometimes called "The Palace of Dreams" and sometimes "The Hall of the Heart of Man," stands just at the edge of earth-life-the gateway of the world. And