he house. But when they peeped into mamma's room
again, there was no snake on the bed! Nor was there any Tom to be seen!

"Shucks! I knew he wasn't as brave as he pretended to be--you see he's
deserted!" growled Charlie.

[Illustration: "You see, he's deserted."]

Just then there was a chuckle from the other side of the bed and up
popped Tommy who had been crouching on the floor there. And if you'll
believe it, there was the reptile that had so scared the children around
his neck!

"It wasn't a snake at all!" Tom cried, grinning. "See, it's only little
Hal's necktie, that old blue and green, bias-cut silk thing that sort of
twists up. Weren't we silly geese though!"

RAINDROPS.

Little Pit and Little Pat
Come out in stormy weather;
They chase each other down the pane
And then run off together.

TOODLES' MISHAP.

BY ASTON MOORE.

Toodles was dreadfully meddlesome. He could not leave things alone. If
you took the slippers away from him, he tried to eat the mat. If you put
the mat outside the door, he tore the corner of the tablecloth. And when
the cloth was folded up, he sharpened his teeth on the legs of the
table.

One evening he learned a lesson which made him a better dog. He was shut
in the kitchen, to keep him out of mischief. The plates and dishes were
on the shelves out of reach. There was no carpet on the floor. And his
sharp teeth could not do much harm to the plain deal legs of the chairs
and table.

But there was a lighted candle in a tall brass candlestick upon the
table. Toodles scrambled onto a chair, jumped to the table, and tried to
bite the candlestick. He could not break or tear it, but he soon knocked
it over, and the candle rolled to the floor, where it lay burning in a
pool of grease. Toodles ran to play with the candle. Next moment, he was
racing round the room, screaming with pain and fright. He had burned his
paw.

[Illustration: Toodles.]

If he is mischievous now, you have only to show him a lighted candle. It
makes him quiet and good at once.

THE DOOR OF SPRING.

BY HELEN M. RICHARDSON.

April unlocks the door of spring,
And soon you'll hear a robin sing.
A bluebird perched upon a tree
Will woo his mate. Perchance you'll see
An early redwing, if you go
Down to the swamp where catkins grow.
For April warden is, of all
The things that went to sleep, last fall.

Just where the