tree, nodded to both of them,
and said, "To-day is the fiftieth anniversary!" And then she took two
flowers out of her hair, and kissed them. First, they shone like silver,
then like gold; and when they laid them on the heads of the old people,
each flower became a golden crown. So there they both sat, like a king
and a queen, under the fragrant tree, that looked exactly like an elder:
the old man told his wife the story of "Old Nanny," as it had been told
him when a boy. And it seemed to both of them it contained much that
resembled their own history; and those parts that were like it pleased
them best.

"Thus it is," said the little maiden in the tree, "some call me 'Old
Nanny,' others a 'Dryad,' but, in reality, my name is 'Remembrance';
'tis I who sit in the tree that grows and grows! I can remember; I can
tell things! Let me see if you have my flower still?"

And the old man opened his Prayer-Book. There lay the Elder-blossom,
as fresh as if it had been placed there but a short time before; and
Remembrance nodded, and the old people, decked with crowns of gold, sat
in the flush of the evening sun. They closed their eyes, and--and--!
Yes, that's the end of the story!

The little boy lay in his bed; he did not know if he had dreamed or
not, or if he had been listening while someone told him the story. The
tea-pot was standing on the table, but no Elder Tree was growing out
of it! And the old man, who had been talking, was just on the point of
going out at the door, and he did go.

"How splendid that was!" said the little boy. "Mother, I have been to
warm countries."

"So I should think," said his mother. "When one has drunk two good
cupfuls of Elder-flower tea, 'tis likely enough one goes into warm
climates"; and she tucked him up nicely, least he should take cold. "You
have had a good sleep while I have been sitting here, and arguing with
him whether it was a story or a fairy tale."

"And where is old Nanny?" asked the little boy.

"In the tea-pot," said his mother; "and there she may remain."

THE BELL

People said "The Evening Bell is sounding, the sun is setting." For a
strange wondrous tone was heard in the narrow streets of a large town.
It was like the sound of a church-bell: but it was only heard for a
moment, for the rolling of the carriages and the voices of the multitude
made too great a noise.

Those persons who were walking outside the town, where the houses were
farther apart, with g