THE SQUIRRELS AND THE CHESTNUT-BURR.

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Four squirrels once saw a chestnut-burr growing on a tree.  They wanted the chestnuts in the burr, but were afraid to touch it, because it was full of sharp points.  Just then, along came a flying-squirrel.  “I will tell you what you must do,” said he:  “wait until the burr opens, and the chestnuts fall out.  The burr always opens when the right time comes.”  So they waited, and got the chestnuts.

It is a good rule to wait until things are ready for us.

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JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.

Vacation’s over!  School’s begun!  A splendid holiday time you’ve had, no doubt, my dears, and now you feel like setting to work again with earnest good-will.  That’s right.  But don’t try to do to much at first.  Better start easily and keep up the pace, than make a quick run for a while only to falter and grow weary before you are half-way.

MOQUI PEEKEE.

Word is sent to me of a queer kind of bread called “Peekee,” which is used by the Moqui American Indians.  It comes in square loaves that are made by folding, twice across, several sheets of what looks like very thin bluish-green crust.

First, the meal is made by women, who grind it into flour between two stones, and then it is mixed with water until it is a thin blue paste or batter, when a little cedar-ash is sprinkled into it.  The oven is a smooth-faced stone heated by kindling a fire under it.  The batter is smeared over the hot stone, and is soon baked into a thin sheet, about two feet long and a foot and a half wide.  Several sheets are folded, while yet warm and soft, to make a loaf, which is then set aside to dry.

This curious bread is very brittle and is eaten by breaking off little bits with the fingers.  People who have never eaten it before soon become quite fond of it.

POTATO BLOSSOMS AS ORNAMENTS.

“Potato plants used to be grown, a very long time ago, in front yards on Broadway, New York, for the sake of the flowers, which were much prized for bouquets and other ornamental purposes.  However, the potatoes themselves,”—­I suppose this means the tubers,—­“became such favorite food in a few years, that the plants were promoted backward from the flower-beds to the kitchen-gardens and open fields.  The beauty of the blossoms was forgotten in the usefulness of their roots.”

The moral of this paragram is:  If you are merely good-looking, you will not be apt to get on in life, but will stay about where you are; and if it should be found out that you can be put to use, you will be planted in the open fields.

This doesn’t seem to read quite right, somehow; but, dear me, what do we want with a moral all the time?  I leave you to find out what it ought to be in this case, if you think it’s worth while.  Only, if you do find out, I wish you would let me know.