"Oh, sing! sing-away! sing-away! The song of the wild singer had

The sound of a soul that is glad.

And beneath the glad sun, every glad-hearted one. Sets the world to the tune of his gladness:

The swift rivers sing it, the wild breezes wing it,

Till Earth loses thought of her sadness.

"Oh, sing! sing-away! sing-away!"

Oh, sing, happy soul, to joy's Giver

Sing on by Time's Runaway River.

-Lucy Larcom.

bald-headed hills, uncovered; without trees.-rapture, great joy.- quiver, a case to hold arrows.

Once upon a time there was a king? No. Once upon a time there was a piece of wood. It was not fine wood, but simply a piece of wood from the woodyard. It was the kind we put in stoves and fireplaces to make a fire to heat the room.

I do not know how it happened, but one beautiful day an old woodcutter found a piece of this kind of wood in his shop.

This

This old man had another name, but everybody called him Master Cherry because of his nose. was always shiny and purplish, just like a ripe cherry.

As soon as Master Cherry saw that piece of wood he was filled with joy. Rubbing his hands, he said to himself, "This has come at a very good time. I will make it into a table leg."

No sooner said than done. He quickly took a sharp ax to take off the bark and shape the wood. Just as he was about to strike he stopped with his arm in the air, for he heard a tiny, thin little voice say, "Do not strike so hard!"

Just think how surprised good old Master Cherry was! He turned his eyes in wonder around the room to see where that little voice came from. But he saw no one. He looked under the bench, and no one was there. He looked in a cupboard which was always closed. He looked in the basket of chips and shavings. He opened the door in order to look around his house. Still he could see no one. What then?

"I understand," he said, laughing and scratching his wig. "I just thought I heard that little voice. I will begin to work again.'

He took up the ax and gave the piece of wood another hard blow.

"Oh! you have hurt me!" cried the little voice, as if in pain.

This time Master Cherry was dumb. His eyes were nearly popping out of his head. His mouth was opened wide and his tongue hung down on his chin.

As soon as he could speak he said in a trembling voice, "But where does that little voice come from that says, 'Oh'? There is nothing alive in this room. Can it be that this piece of wood has learned to cry and scream like a baby? I cannot believe it. This is a common piece of wood for the fireplace, like all other pieces of wood with which we boil a pot of beans. What next? What if there is some one hidden inside? If there is, so much the worse for him."

Saying this, he seized with both hands the poor piece of wood and knocked it against the wall. Then he stopped to listen, so as to hear if any voice cried out. He waited two minutes, and heard nothing; five minutes, and nothing; ten minutes, and nothing.

"I understand," he said, forcing a laugh and rubbing his wig. "I just thought I heard a voice cry 'Oh!' I will begin to work again."

And because he was frightened he tried to hum a little song so as to make himself brave.

At the same time he stopped working with the ax and took up a plane to make the wood even and clean.

But while he planed, he heard again the little voice, this time in a laughing tone.

"Stop!" it said, "you are taking the skin off my body."

This time Master Cherry fell down as if shot. When he opened his eyes he found himself sitting on the ground. His face showed great wonder, and the end of his nose, which was almost purple, became blue from great fear.

II

At this moment there was a knock at the door. "Come in," said the woodcutter, without having strength enough to rise.

Then a lively old man called Geppetto entered the

room.

"Good morning, Master Cherry," said Geppetto. "What are you doing on the ground?"

"I am teaching the ants their ABC's. What has brought you here, brother Geppetto?"

"I have come to ask a favor of you, Master Cherry." "Here I am, prompt to serve you!" replied the woodcutter, raising himself on his knees.

"This morning I had an idea."