class want her for president, and
then prove to the rest that we can still have a good time during
Commencement week. Father will let us use the grounds when we like and we
can all have a part in the planning of the fun. I should just like to see
if she really can make a class president as well as we girls from the
Hill."

And though the girls couldn't understand why she had changed, yet they
were glad to follow her lead.

That night Mary Waite sat before her desk in her pretty room on the Hill
and looked again at the assignment which had been given to her--

"Study the pictures in Gallery Nine and bring to me the name of the
picture and the artist who painted the one that speaks most plainly to
you."

And in no uncertain letters she wrote:

Christ in the Home of the Lowly.
By L'Hermitte

Mary Waite.

THE QUEST

Once there came to the land of the Every-day a messenger from the King. In
his hand he carried glasses to help him in the search which he was making.
Under his arm he was carrying a scroll. On his face there was a look of
deep concern.

How could he ever find the most beautiful thing in all the world? There
were so many beautiful things that he had no idea even where to begin. Yet
this was his commission: "Of all the beautiful things, choose for me the
most beautiful."

So the messenger called for heralds and sent them forth to ask of the
people of the Every-day their help in choosing for the King.

"Bring to me your most beautiful thing," he said. "Then I will choose from
these things what I deem most beautiful."

And one brought a wonderful gem. It was clear as crystal; it sparkled in
the light and seemed to beg to be chosen. The rays of the noonday sun
shone through the stone and all the people cried with one voice:

"How beautiful! How wonderful! We have never seen the like!"

"Surely," thought the messenger, "I shall never find anything so rare as
this. I will take it to the King."

But a voice cried: "Wait, oh, messenger, wait! That which is dead can
never be the most beautiful thing. Surely I have here that which far
exceeds the stone which you have seen. I beg you look at this."

Then he opened the cover of the great box that he carried.

In a bed of shimmering white there lay a beautiful rose. Its leaves were
still wet with the dew of the garden. Its petals were as p