[Illustration]

I will tell you how to make another pretty thing. You know what a burr
is. Alas! it has often played you many a naughty trick,--woven itself
provokingly into your clothes, or perhaps into your hair. I can teach
you to make a better use of it.

Pluck an apron full: lay them one against another so that they shall
stick fast together, and make in this manner the bottom of a small
basket of any shape you like,--round, square, or oval.

Now build the burrs up around the edge to form the sides. When this is
finished, make also the handle of burrs. A lovely little basket stands
before you, which you can fill with flowers or berries from the fields,
and carry home to your mother. Of course you know how to make wreaths
and bouquets; but to make them tastefully is a true work of art, in
which all children should try to become skilful.

ANNA LIVINGSTON.

[Illustration]

MY CLOTHES-PINS.

MY clothes-pins are but kitchen-folk,
Unpainted, wooden, small;
And for six days in every week
Are of no use at all.

But when a breezy Monday comes,
And all my clothes are out,
And want with every idle wind
To go and roam about,

Oh! if I had no clothes-pins then,
What would become of me,
When roving towels, mounting shirts,
I everywhere should see!

"I mean," a flapping sheet begins,
"To rise and soar away."
"We mean," the clothes-pins answer back,
"You on this line shall stay."

"Oh, let me!" pleads a handkerchief,
"Across the garden fly."
"Not while I've power to keep you here,"
A clothes-pin makes reply.

So, fearlessly I hear the wind
Across the clothes-yard pass,
And shed the apple-blossoms down
Upon the flowering grass.

The clothes may dance upon the line,
And flutter to and fro:
My faithful clothes-pins hold them fast,
And will not let them go.

My clothes-pins are but kitchen-folk,
Unpainted, wooden, small;
And for six days in every week
Are of no use at all.

But still, in every listening ear,
Their praises I will tell;
For all that they profess to do
They do, and do it well.