s more hats,
Loses more kites and tops and bats
Than would stock a store
For a week or more.

Only a boy with his wild, strange ways,
With his idle hours or his busy days,
With his queer remarks and his odd replies,
Sometimes foolish and sometimes wise,
Often brilliant for one of his size,
As a meteor hurled
From the planet world.

Only a boy, who may be a man
If nature goes on with her first great plan--
If intemperance or some fatal snare,
Conspires not to rob us of this our heir,
Our blessing, our trouble, our rest, our care,
Our torment, our joy!
"Only a boy!"

BIRD NEEDLEWORK.

MAY R. BALDWIN.

There is a class of workers in India who have always held to
needlework, useful and ornamental, through the changes of the long
years, and have never had the help of machines.

These workers are "Tailor Birds." Specimens of their handiwork have
excited the admiration of many travelers in the country where they are
found.

Their needlework is seen in the construction of their nests, which
vary in size and appearance.

The beak of the bird answers for a needle; and for thread--and this is
the wonderful thing about sewing--they use the silken spiders' webs.
These threads are made secure by fastening them with silken buttons,
made by twisting the ends. Think of that! spiders' webs for thread!
How marvelous would the work of the fair ladies all over the land
seem, if the door screens and the window hangings and the dresses and
the laces were decorated with designs worked with spider's web thread!

Sometimes, it is true, these birds use the silk from cocoons for their
work; and even such common material as bits of thread and wool are
used. One traveler states that he has seen a bird watch a native
tailor as he sewed under a covered veranda; and, when he had left his
work for a while, the watchful bird flew to the place, gathered some
of the threads quickly, and then flew away with his unlawful prize to
use it in sewing together leaves for his nest.

Imagine one of these bird homes. Could any thing be more fairy-like?
The leaves are joined, of course, to the tree by their own natural
fastenings. But who taught the first bird home-maker how to bring the
leaves together? And who gave the first lessons in sewing? And how did
it come to choose its delicate spider web thread and twist