arer home, all the time.

Sweet Voice was not afraid then; and as they flew from the shelter of
the woods, they saw the tall church steeple with its golden weather
vane.

The sun was in the west, and the windows were all shining in its light,
when Fleet Wing and Sweet Voice reached the town. The little children
saw them and called: "Stay with us, pretty pigeons." But Sweet Voice and
Fleet Wing did not rest until they reached the white pigeon house, where
Mother and Father Pigeon were waiting.

The cook's boy was waiting, too, and the little pigeons were taken in to
see the king's little daughter. When she found the letters which they
carried under their wings, she laughed with delight; and Fleet Wing and
Sweet Voice were very proud to think that they had brought glad news to
their princess.

They told it over and over again out in the pigeon-house, and Mother and
Father Pigeon were glad, too.

In the morning, the birds in the garden were told of the wonderful
things that had happened to Fleet Wing and Sweet Voice; and even the
hens and chickens had something to say when they heard the news.

The thrush said that it all made her think of her own sweet song; and
she sang it again to them:--

"_Wherever I fly from my own dear nest,
I always come back, for home is the best_."

_THE LITTLE GIRL WITH THE LIGHT_

MOTTO FOR THE MOTHER

_We can never dwell in shadows
If our souls are full of light.
Let the brightness of our being
Make the whole wide world as bright_
"_Jesus bids us shine for all around.
Many kinds of darkness in this world are found.
There's sin and want and sorrow, so we must shine,
You in your small corner, I in mine."

S.S. Hymn_.

There once lived a little maiden to whom God had given a wonderful
light, which made her whole life bright.

When she was a wee baby it shone on her face in a beautiful smile, and
her mother cried:--

"See! the angels have been kissing her!" And when she grew older it
lighted up her eyes like sunshine, and gleamed on her forehead like a
star.

All lovely things that loved light, loved her. The soft-cooing pigeons
came at her call. The roses climbed up to her windows to peep at her,
and the birds of the air, and the butterflies, that looked like
enchanted sunbeams, would circle about her head.

Her father was king of a country; and though she was not so tall as the
tall white lily in the garden, or the we