“Who is there?” she said.

“It’s the Sunshine,” said the cheery little voice, “and I want to come in, I want to come in!”

“No, no,” said the little pink rose, “you cannot come in.”

By and by, as she sat so still, she heard tap, tap, tap, and rustle, whisper, rustle, all up and down the window pane, and on the door, and at the key-hole.

“Who is there?” she said.

“It’s the Rain and the Sun, the Rain and the Sun,” said two little voices, together, “and we want to come in!  We want to come in!  We want to come in!”

“Dear, dear!” said the little Rosebud, “if there are two of you, I s’pose I shall have to let you in.”

So she opened the door a little wee crack, and in they came.  And one took one of her little hands, and the other took her other little hand, and they ran, ran, ran with her, right up to the top of the ground.  Then they said,—­

“Poke your head through!”

So she poked her head through; and she was in the midst of a beautiful garden.  It was springtime, and all the other flowers had their heads poked through; and she was the prettiest little pink rose in the whole garden!

THE COCK-A-DOO-DLE-DOO[1]

[1] From “The Ignominy of being Grown Up,” by Dr. Samuel M. Crothers, in the Atlantic Monthly for July, 1906.

A very little boy made this story up “out of his head,” and told it to his papa I think you littlest ones will like it; I do.

Once upon a time there was a little boy, and he wanted to be a cock-a-doo-dle-doo So he was a cock-a-doo-dle-doo.  And he wanted to fly up into the sky.  So he did fly up into the sky.  And he wanted to get wings and a tail.  So he did get some wings and a tail.

THE CLOUD[2]

[2] Adapted from the German of Robert Reinick’s Maarchen, Lieder-und Geschichtenbuch (Velhagen und Klasing, Bielefeld and Leipsic).

One hot summer morning a little Cloud rose out of the sea and floated lightly and happily across the blue sky.  Far below lay the earth, brown, dry, and desolate, from drouth.  The little Cloud could see the poor people of the earth working and suffering in the hot fields, while she herself floated on the morning breeze, hither and thither, without a care.

“Oh, if I could only help the poor people down there!” she thought.  “If I could but make their work easier, or give the hungry ones food, or the thirsty a drink!”

And as the day passed, and the Cloud became larger, this wish to do something for the people of earth was ever greater in her heart.

On earth it grew hotter and hotter; the sun burned down so fiercely that the people were fainting in its rays; it seemed as if they must die of heat, and yet they were obliged to go on with their work, for they were very poor.  Sometimes they stood and looked up at the Cloud, as if they were praying, and saying, “Ah, if you could help us!”