W. O. C.

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STORY OF A DAISY.

DEEP down in a snug little dell, beneath a high bank, near the roadside,
grew a wild daisy. It had braved the snow and ice of winter, and was now
putting forth its leaves to the soft breezes and blue skies of spring.

One day a party of boys and girls came to play near the daisy-plant's
home; and she thought she would surely be trampled on and killed. But
the children at last went away, and daisy-plant breathed freely once
more.

But it was not long before she heard a child's voice cry, "Papa, papa, I
can run down this bank. Let me run down this bank all by myself, dear
papa." And, before papa could say Nay, down ran little Emma Vincent, and
stood close beside daisy-plant.

"Oh, look at this darling daisy, only look, papa!" cried Emma; and in
one little minute the child's finger and thumb had tight hold of the
young daisy-plant's only flower.

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Tremble, now, daisy-plant; one little nip, and your beauty and pride
will be gone. But something else than this was in store for poor
daisy-plant. "I'll not gather the flower," said Emma. "The whole plant
shall go into my garden, papa, just as it is."

Daisy-flower did not know its danger then, or maybe it would have shut
up its eye, and hung down its head, for very fear. But, instead of this,
it looked up as boldly as a modest daisy well could into the little
girl's face.

So the whole plant was taken up by its roots; and Emma bore it carefully
home, and with the aid of John, the gardener's boy, set it out nicely in
her little flower-bed.

Emma took great care of daisy-plant, watering it at night, and
protecting it from the hot sun at noon. Soon it began to thrive as
bravely as in its own native dell. It was very happy, and could spare a
flower or two without missing them so very much.

But one day, when she returned from a week's visit to her aunt, Emma
missed her darling daisy-plant. "O papa!" cried she, "somebody has
taken it away,--my precious daisy."

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Yes, a new gardener's boy, who had thought that it was a weed, had
pulled it up, and thrown it, he could not tell where. It was hard to
comfort Emma. Such a beautiful flower it seemed in her eyes! And she had
found it, and put it in her own garden, and watched it and watered it so
carefully!

And what had become of poor daisy-plant? Had it withered and perished?
No, no! daisy-plants don