Now the neighbors came, not to make fun, but to praise.  “How did you do it?” they asked.

“The trees were old and needed attention,” said John.  “By turning the soil and letting in the air, I gave them strength to bear fruit.  I have found the treasure after all, and I have learned a lesson.  Tilling the soil well is the way to get treasure from it.”

—­GRIMM.

THE LITTLE BROWN BROTHER

  Little brown brother, oh! little brown brother,
    Are you awake in the dark? 
  Here we lie cozily, close to each other;
    Hark to the song of the lark—­

  “Waken!” the lark says, “waken and dress you;
    Put on your green coats and gay,
  Blue sky will shine on you, sunshine caress you—­
    Waken! ’tis morning—­’tis May!”

  Little brown brother, oh! little brown brother,
    What kind of flower will you be? 
  I’ll be a poppy—­all white, like my mother;
    Do be a poppy like me.

  What! you’re a sunflower?  How I shall miss you
    When you’re grown golden and high! 
  But I shall send all the bees up to kiss you;
    Little brown brother, good-by!

—­EMILY NESBIT.

HOW THE FLOWERS GROW

  This is how the flowers grow;
  I have watched them and I know: 

  First, above the ground is seen
  A tiny blade of purest green,
  Reaching up and peeping forth
  East and west, and south and north.

  Then the sunbeams find their way
  To the sleeping bud and say,
  “We are children of the sun
  Sent to wake thee, little one.”

  And the leaflet opening wide
  Shows the tiny bud inside,
  Peeping with half-opened eye
  On the bright and sunny sky.

  Breezes from the west and south
  Lay their kisses on its mouth;
  Till the petals all are grown,
  And the bud’s a flower blown.

—­GABRIEL SETOUN.

WISE MEN OF GOTHAM

Once upon a time there were some wise men who lived in Gotham.  Listen and you will hear how wise they were.

Twelve of these wise men went fishing one day.  Some went into the stream and some stayed on dry ground.  They caught many fish and had a good time.

As they came home, one of the men said, “We have risked much wading in that stream.  I pray God no one of us is drowned.”

“Why, one of us might be!  Who knows?” cried another.  “Let’s see about it.  Twelve of us went fishing this morning.  We must count and see if twelve are returning.”

So one man counted, “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven.”  And he did not count himself!

“Alas!  One of us is drowned!” he cried.

“Woe be unto us!  Let me count,” said another.  And he did not count himself.