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Max was the first to be quite ready with his exhibit. It was a queer creature that one gradually discovered to be some sort of a bird; though such a one had never before been seen on land or sea. Max had arrayed his mother’s big white gander for the occasion. A turkey-tail fan made a huge breastplate, if one can imagine a breastplate of feathers. All the long-tailed roosters that had been killed in town for months, one would guess, had contributed to the coat of sprawling feathers that was tied over the body of the bird. And no one knew by what magic the boy had coaxed some one to lend him the magnificent peacock plumes that rose high above the little wiggling goose tail.,

Mrs. Wopp, after ascertaining that the little boy had received no bodily injury, stood mopping her heated face with the half-mended sock. She ceased operations to survey Betty more carefully.,

“It came to me feet foremost, I guess, and soaked the quilt in instalments. I had a tough dream, too; couldn’t wake up in the middle. I dreamed I was on a ship in a bang-up storm, and the vessel lunged like a bucking horse.”,

“Mebbe them new seed catalogue folks cheated us, Mar,” he suggested.

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She stood at the end of the creaking wharf, and one little bare arm was lifted high. She held a small fruit jar filled with water and beet juice. It was awkward, but Billy had insisted on the fruit jar,—“So’s it will be sure to break; it’s the only kind of a bottle that always will break.”,

Rain dropped her gray mantle behind a tree, and reappeared with her chalice of diamond-dust dew, to touch the fairy chorus to shimmering beauty. The gnomes, their queer masks and hunched shoulders showing grotesquely under their gray garb, joined the fairies’ dance. Wind came floating in as Summer Breeze. Storm was transformed to the Slave of the Sower; while Black Frost was perched high up at the rear, grinning from the top of the mountain.,

“Don’t worry me Mosey, this is a ’portant day,” then turning to Miss Gordon she added, “I’ll take ’sturtiums an’ larkspur an’ sweet peas an’ you’ll be ever so happy lookin’ at them.” A busy silence ensued.,

Sometimes all the small meanness of everyday life is swept away by a great calamity, and the world forgets to hate, and opens its great heart of love. Such an event came through the catastrophe in San Francisco. It inclined every ear, moistened every eye. From all the world’s pocketbook came the golden dollars; from every soul the longing to do; and when it was done, disappointment because it was so little.