FAUNTLEROY PARK.

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OU don’t know where Fauntleroy Park is? Why, it is
the babies’ park ; where the sun seems glad to shine
and the children love to play.

All around it are such pretty houses, and each house has
a baby or two, and a key which unlocks the park gates.

The park calls together the people who have children.
The every-day baby parade is so distracting that folks who
have no baby to play in the quiet walks, or to sleep in the
pleasant shade, or to laugh at the sprinkling fountain, are
here tempted to buy or beg one of the dimpled darlings.

Fall pampas grass used to grow here. When the white
feathery plumes were cut down, they were given to the
children who happened to be inside the gates.

Once upon a time, a little boy carried home his arms
full: his mamma placed the gay grass flowers in a mantel
vase. Very pretty it was, until a match, which a maid was
striking, lit the plumes, which flashed and flared a pyramid
offire. It caught the white curtains ; it snatched the pretty
hangings from the poles; it quickly spoiled that pretty
house on Fauntleroy Park.

No more pampas grass’ there after that mischief: the
place where it grew is every year planted with lilies.

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