ve me best,
And when you scold me, too."

The mother kissed her darling child,
And stooped a tear to hide:
"My precious one, I love you most
When I am forced to chide.

"I could not let my darling child
In sin and folly go;
And this is why I sometimes chide--
Because I love you so."
--_Sel_.

* * * * *

A RUNAWAY UMBRELLA.

There was a big umbrella with a pretty twisted handle, that belonged
to father, and he carried it down town on rainy days. There was a
little brown-eyed girl, who was four years old her last birthday; that
was Marjorie.

There was a mischievous south wind that would be quiet for a long time
and then come with a quick gust and blow, oh, ever so hard and play
all sorts of pranks on people.

Then, there was a lady who sat on a porch not very far from Marjorie's
house. These four together made a story, and that's what I am going to
tell you about.

It was a beautiful sunny day and Marjorie was going out in the front
yard to play. As she went through the hall there, by the hall tree,
stood the big umbrella.

"Wouldn't it be fun to take the umbrella and play rainy day?" she
thought. So she reached and picked it up.

Through the door, across the porch and down onto the sidewalk she ran.
She worked a long while before she could get the umbrella to stay up.

"Now, I am a big lady with a long dress and I am going over to the
store," she said to herself as she gathered her little short skirt up
with one hand, and held the umbrella up straight and fine with the
other. Walking carefully, "because it is so muddy," she said, as down
the street she started. Pretty soon a gust of the mischievous south
wind came along and lifted the umbrella right out of Marjorie's little
fat hand and took it out into the middle of the street and set it
down.

Forgetting the rainy day, the long skirt, and the mud, off the curbing
she jumped, and ran for the umbrella. She had almost grasped it
again, when along came another gust of wind, and down the street
bumity-bump went the big, open umbrella. Marjorie started to run after
it, but over and over it went so much faster than a little girl could
run, that it was soon far out of her reach.

[Illustration: She walked carefully because it was muddy.]

Then she began to cry.

"Catch it, oh, catch it!" she screamed, as she ran.

The lady I told y