12.  “Oh, what is it?” he said, sitting up with a look of hope, while a tear fell upon a blue violet.

l3.  “Well, how would you like to be a little flower merchant?”

14.  “And earn money?” said Davy.  “That would be jolly.  But where shall I get my flowers?”

15.  “Right in these woods, and in the fields,” said his teacher. " Here are lovely blue violets, down by the brook are white ones, and among the rocks are ferns and mosses.  Bring them all to my house, and I will help you arrange them.”

16.  So, day after day, Davy hunted the woods for the prettiest flowers, and the most dainty ferns and mosses.  After his teacher had helped to arrange them, he took them to the city that was near, and sold them.

17.  He soon earned money enough to buy new clothes.  Now the sunshine and the bird’s songs make him glad.

LESSON LXVI.

deep flour dough mill’er wheth’er

cook a far’ dust’y cra’dles grind’ing

glow doth val’ley reap’ers a-knead’ing

Alice’s supper.
                   1. 
Far down in the valley the wheat grows deep,
And the reapers are making the cradles sweep;
And this is the song that I hear them sing,
While cheery and loud their voices ring: 
“’Tis the finest wheat that ever did grow! 
And it is for Alice’s supper—­ho! ho!”

2. 
Far down by the river the old mill stands,
And the miller is rubbing his dusty hands;
And these are the words of the miller’s lay,
As he watches the millstones grinding away: 
“’Tis the finest flour that money can buy,
And it is for Alice’s supper—­hi! hi!”

3. 
Downstairs in the kitchen the fire doth glow,
And cook is a-kneading the soft, white dough;
And this is the song she is singing to-day,
As merry and busy she’s working away: 
“’Tis the finest dough, whether near or afar,
And it is for Alice’s supper—­ha! ha!”

[Illustration:  Mother serving supper to small girl seated at table.]

4. 
To the nursery now comes mother, at last,
And what in her hand is she bringing so fast? 
’Tis a plateful of something, all yellow and white,
And she sings as she comes, with her smile so bright: 
“’Tis the best bread and butter I ever did see,
And it is for Alice’s supper—­he! he!”

LESSON LXVII.

tall hung storm pick’et

firs north gowns spar’ked

roof flakes fair’ies cap’tains

A SNOWSTORM.

1.  Last night, the cold north wind blew great snow clouds over the sky.  Not a star, not a bit of blue sky could be seen.

2.  Soon the tiny flakes floated softly down, like flocks of little white birds.  Faster and faster they came, till they filled the air.  They made no noise, but they were busy all night long.