me for evening hymns and good-night kisses. We have sung
through the chief favourites, ending always with, "Jesus, tender
Shepherd." "Now sing, 'Oh, luvvly lily g'oing in our garden!'" This from
Tara. Echo from Evu: "Yes; 'Oh, luvvly lily g'oing in our garden!'" You
point out to the garden: "It is dark, there are no lovely lilies to be
seen; besides, that is not exactly a hymn; shall we have 'Jesus, tender
Shepherd,' again, and say good-night?" But this is not at all
satisfactory. Tara looks a little hurt. "Tender Shepperd, _no_! Oh,
luvvly lily!" Evu wonders if we are making excuses. Perhaps we have
forgotten the tune, and she starts it:--

Oh, lovely lily,
Growing in our garden,
Who made a dress so fair
For you to wear?
Who made you straight and tall
To give pleasure to us all?
Oh, lovely lily,
Who did it all?

Oh, little children,
Playing in our garden,
God made this dress so fair
For us to wear.
God made us straight and tall
To give pleasure to you all.
Oh, little children,
God did it all.

Then Tara smiles all round, and you are given to understand you have
earned your good-night kisses. Evidently to Tara at least there is a
sense of incompleteness somewhere if the lovely lilies are excluded from
the family devotions.

To Tara and to Evu, as to most babies, the garden is a pleasant place.
But when they grow up and make gardens, they will not fill them with
forbidden joys as we do. One of the temptations of life is furnished by
inconsiderate ferns, which hold their curly infant fronds just within
reach. Then there are crotons, with bright leaves aggressively yellow
and delightful, and there are "tunflowers"; and the babies think us
greedy in our attitude towards all these things. The croton was
especially alluring; and one day Tara was found tiptoe on a low wall,
reaching up with both hands, eagerly pulling bits of leaf off. She was
brought to me to be judged; and I said: "Poor leaves! Shall we try to
put them on again?" And hand in hand we went to the garden, and Tara
tried. But the pulled-off bits would not fit on again; and Tara's face
was full of serious thought, though she said nothing. Next day she was
found on the same low wall, reaching up tiptoe in the same sinful way to
the shining yellow leaves overhead. Quite suddenly she stopped, put h