as dark and the Flute Player could not see the Flower Girl,
so he stopped playing and his heart was heavy again.

China Cat, however, was bound to make a match between the Shepherdess
and the Flute Player, and she walked over to the little Shepherdess and
asked, "Don't you think that he plays well?"

"Who?" asked the artful little Shepherdess.

"The handsome Flute Player," said China Cat.

"Oh, I have not thought much about it," answered the Shepherdess.

"Wouldn't you like to hear him play again?" said China Cat. "It would
cheer us up, the room is so dark."

Just then the moonlight streamed in the window and lighted the room.
The little Shepherdess looked into the distance again and said she
thought it would be nice to hear the music. So China Cat trotted over
to the Flute Player.

"She wants to hear you play," she said, "and I think you can win her."

The Flute Player began playing soft music and walking toward the little
Shepherdess. The music was so sweet and sad that by the time he
reached her side she was wiping her eyes. He stole one arm around her
waist and told her not to cry, that he would play a jolly tune for her.

"No, those are the tunes you play for the Flower Girl," she said,
hanging her head. "I do not want you to play them for me."

"I did not play any tunes for the Flower Girl," he said, "they were all
for you."

"But you looked at her all the time," said the now humble little
Shepherdess.

"I was thinking of you," he replied. "Let us sit on the end of the
mantel and I will play to you. What would you like to hear?"

"Play something sad," said the little Shepherdess, for, like all girls,
she wanted to cry when she was happiest.

"There," said the Cat, curling herself up for a nap, "I am glad that is
settled. She never would have given in if he had not looked at the
Flower Girl. These girls are queer creatures," she said, closing her
eyes.

HOW THE BUTTERCUP GREW YELLOW

[Illustration: How the Buttercup Grew Yellow]

Long, long ago it is told that the flowers were all white and that each
received its color by some magic power.

The little Daisy, with its yellow eye, received its golden center when
the angry elves pelted the little Fairies with sunbeams.

The Daisy grew to be very proud of her yellow eye and thought it showed
off to perfection her pure white rim. One day she was looking about
the field where she grew and saw the little White Cups growing all
about