Like brown leaves whirling by.

I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn
Where a little headstone stood;
How the flakes were folding it gently,
As did robins the babes in the wood.

Up spoke our own little Mabel,
Saying, "Father, who makes it snow?"
And I told of the good All-Father
Who cares for us here below.

Again I looked at the snowfall,
And thought of the leaden sky
That arched o'er our first great sorrow,
When that mound was heaped so high.

I remembered the gradual patience
That fell from that cloud like snow,
Flake by flake, healing and hiding
The scar on our deep-plunged woe.

And again to the child I whispered,
"The snow that husheth all,
Darling, the merciful Father
Alone can make it fall."

Then, with eyes that saw not, I kissed her;
And she, kissing back, could not know
That _my_ kiss was given to her sister,
Folded close under deepening snow.

JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.

=HELPS TO STUDY=

When did the snow begin? How do you know? What time is it now? Is
snow still falling? Read the lines that show this. Of what sorrow
does the snow remind the poet? Read the lines which show that peace
had come to the parents. Make a list of the comparisons (or
similes) used by the poet. Read the lines which show that the storm
was a quiet one. Which lines do you like best?

OLD EPHRAIM

For some days after our arrival on the Bighorn range we did not come
across any grizzly. There were plenty of black-tail deer in the woods,
and we encountered a number of bands of cow and calf elk, or of young
bulls; but after several days' hunting, we were still without any game
worth taking home, and we had seen no sign of grizzly, which was the
game we were especially anxious to kill, for neither Merrifield nor I
had ever seen a bear alive.

Sometimes we hunted in company; sometimes each of us went out alone. One
day we had separated; I reached camp early in the afternoon, and waited
a couple of hours before Merrifield put in an appearance.

At last I heard a shout, and he came in sight galloping at speed down an
open glade, and waving his hat, evidently having had good luck; and when
he reined in his small, wiry cow-pony, we saw that he had packed behind
his saddle the fine, glossy pelt of a black bear. Better still, he
announced that he had been off about t