A TREASURY OF STORIES, JINGLES AND RHYMES.

The white-capped nurses, trundling the baby-carriages,
watch the sprouting of the bulbs in the early spring; watch
them send up their pointed leaves, and open a bit to let a
tall stalk shoot upward ; to shiver off into another leaf, and
another. At last the bunch of flower-buds is seen; rather
clumsy at first; the new babies can have no ideaof what is
coming.

Day after day the wicker carriages go by, and the babies
coo and chatter, and the buds are growing.

Mammas look out of the windows upon the Square, to
welcome the lilies, as they open in the sunshine. Now and
then a real bee, from nobody knows how far away, flies from
lily to lily, helping himself to sweets.

Sometimes sad-faced men and women peep through the
railings, walking slowly, wondering at the lilies and “the
Square-babies,” there are so many of each.

At last the lilies are all in blossom. When they begin to
fade the old park gardener comes to cut them down.

“Oh, please wait a minute!” cried agentle voice. ‘Do
let me make a picture of those darlings !”

The nurses pushed the empty carriages down the tulip
walk.

The blessed babies were sent toddling among the lilies,
where their good fairy made this picture of them.

Now, when the lilies are cut again, in Fauntleroy Park,

~may you be there to see!

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