Joe thinks they are still out in the woods, and that the little
pheasants are teaching their mother how to get her own food
there.--_Selected_.
* * * * *
"Not mighty deeds make up the sum
Of happiness below:
But little acts of kindliness,
Which any child may show."
* * * * *
[Illustration]
WHERE THE JASMINE BELLS WERE RINGING
BY ALICE MILLER WEEKS
The pine woodland was dark and sweet and cool, and grandmother and
little Emily were walking through it, hand in hand, enjoying its peace
and fragrance. The trees grew so closely on either side of the narrow
path that hardly a glimpse of blue sky could be seen overhead, and not
a shaft of golden sunlight was bold enough to shine down through the
glossy pine needles, as both were thinking.
"Why, yes there is!" little Emily called suddenly, as if answering her
own thoughts aloud. "There's a sunbeam over there--right where the
trees are thickest!"
Grandmother and she hurried to the spot; it seemed a little strange
that the sunlight should have filtered down through such dense shade.
And when they reached it, it was not sunshine at all. It was a
delicate spray of clustered yellow bells, swaying from a slender
thread of vine, and filling the spring air with delicious perfume.
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