smell the cakes and pies cooking in the range, for
Saturday is baking day. How the little children love to watch mother
stirring the cake and frosting, and how they beg to clean the sweet
stuff out of the bowl. Father comes home earlier to-day, and all go for
a walk in the woods or park. All men need a holiday, for "all work and
no play makes Jack a dull boy." The boys play ball and run and shout in
their joy. The girls have little parties, and cook gives them some fresh
cakes. I am named for Saetere, god of the harvest, and he is always
merry. So I wish all people to be happy on Saturday, the play day of the
week.

[Illustration]

_Sunday._ You have all spoken well, my sisters, and each one has some
claim to be the best day of the week. How fine it is that every day
holds some special joy in work or play! But you all know the highest joy
is mine. I am named for the golden sun that gives light to the world. On
Sunday men think of the inner light that makes them love the good and
the true and persuades them to do right. To-day the family is united,
and in the morning with fresh garments and happy faces they seek the
knowledge of a higher life. Around the dinner table they talk happily
together of their work and play, and they plan how they may do better
work during the next week. Love and peace are in all hearts. A desire to
help the weak and poor and sad is in every soul. I am happy and blest to
be Sunday.

HAeNSEL AND GRETEL

PERSONS IN THE PLAY--HAeNSEL, GRETEL, MOTHER, FATHER, THE GINGERBREAD
WITCH, SANDMAN, CHILDREN

SCENE I.--_In the Cottage_

_Haensel._ I wish mother would come home! I'm cold and hungry. I'm tired
of bread. I want some milk and sugar.

_Gretel._ Hush, Haensel; don't be cross!

_Haensel._ If we only had something good to eat: eggs, and butter and
meat. Oh, dear!

_Gretel._ Dear Haensel, if you will stop crying, I'll tell you a secret.

_Haensel._ Oh, what is it? Something nice?

_Gretel._ Yes, indeed. Look in this jug! It is full of milk. Mother will
make us a pudding for supper.

_Haensel._ Goody, goody! How thick the cream is! Let me taste it.

_Gretel._ Aren't you ashamed, you naughty boy! Take your finger out of
the cream. We must go back to work. When mother comes she will be cross
if you have not finished the broom.

_Haensel._ I'll not work any more. I want to dance.

_Gretel._ So do I. I like to dance better than to work. Come, let us
dance and sing.

Brothe