ses.

ELAINE.

SUMMER IS COMING.

"Summer is coming!" the soft breezes whisper;
"Summer is coming!" the glad birdies sing.
Summer is coming--I hear her quick footsteps;
Take your last look at the beautiful Spring.

Lightly she steps from her throne in the woodlands:
"Summer is coming, and I cannot stay;
Two of my children have crept from my bosom:
April has left me but lingering May.

"What tho' bright Summer is crowned with roses.
Deep in the forest Arbutus doth hide;
I am the herald of all the rejoicing;
Why must June always disown me?" she cried.

Down in the meadow she stoops to the daisies,
Plucks the first bloom from the apple-tree's bough:
"Autumn will rob me of all the sweet apples;
I will take one from her store of them now."

Summer is coming! I hear the glad echo;
Clearly it rings o'er the mountain and plain.
Sorrowful Spring leaves the beautiful woodlands,
Bright, happy Summer begins her sweet reign.

DORA.

SWEET MARJORAM DAY.

(_A Fairy Tale_.)

BY FRANK R. STOCKTON.

It was a very delightful country where little Corette lived. It seemed
to be almost always summer-time there, for the winters were just long
enough to make people glad when they were over. When it rained, it
mostly rained at night, and so the fields and gardens had all the water
they wanted, while the people were generally quite sure of a fine day.
And, as they lived a great deal out-of-doors, this was a great
advantage to them.

The principal business of the people of this country was the raising of
sweet marjoram. The soil and climate were admirably adapted to the
culture of the herb, and fields and fields of it were to be seen in
every direction. At that time, and this was a good while ago, very
little sweet marjoram was raised in other parts of the world, so this
country had the trade nearly all to itself.

The great holiday of the year was the day on which the harvest of this
national herb began. It was called "Sweet Marjoram Day," and the
people, both young and old, thought more of it than of any other
holiday in the year.

On that happy day everybody went out into the fields. There was never a
person so old, or so young, or so busy that he or she could not go to
help in the harvest. Even when there were sick people, which was
seldom, they were carried out to the fields and staid there all day.
And they generally felt much better in the e