an one of the
Schmidts," said Leena, re-arranging his bundle for him, "don't think
we sha'n't like her. Any one you love will be welcome to us, Peter
Paul--as welcome as you have been."

When they got to the hillock where Mother used to sit, Peter Paul took
her once more into his arms.

"Good-bye, good Sister," he said. "I have been back in my childhood
again, and GOD knows that is both pleasant and good for one."

"And it is funny that you should say so," said Leena, smiling through
her tears; "for when we were children you were never happy except in
thinking of when you should be a man."

"And there sit your children, just where we used to play," said Peter
Paul.

"They are blowing dandelion clocks," said Leena, and she called them.

"Come and bid Uncle Peter good-bye."

He kissed them both.

"Well, what o'clock is it?" said he. The boy gave one mighty puff and
dispersed his fairy clock at a breath.

"One o'clock," he cried stoutly.

"One, two, three, four o'clock," said the girl. And they went back to
their play.

And Leena stood by them, with Mother's old sun-hat on her young head,
and watched Peter Paul's figure over the flat pastures till it was an
indistinguishable speck.

He turned back a dozen times to wave his hands to her, and to the
children telling the fairy time.

But he did not ask now why dandelion clocks go differently with
different people. Godfather Time had told him. He teaches us many
things.

THE TRINITY FLOWER.

A LEGEND.

"Break forth, my lips, in praise, and own
The wiser love severely kind:
Since, richer for its chastening grown,
I see, whereas I once was blind."

_The Clear Vision_, J.G. WHITTIER.

In days of yore there was once a certain hermit, who dwelt in a cell,
which he had fashioned for himself from a natural cave in the side of
a hill.

Now this hermit had a great love for flowers, and was moreover learned
in the virtues of herbs, and in that great mystery of healing which
lies hidden among the green things of GOD. And so it came to pass that
the country people from all parts came to him for the simples which
grew in the little garden which he had made before his cell. And as
his fame spread, and more people came to him, he added more and more
to the plat which he had reclaimed from the waste land around.

But after many years there came a Spring when the colours of the
flowers seemed paler to the hermit than they used to be; an