GRANDMOTHER'S HOME.

Grand-moth-er Gra-ham was a love-ly old la-dy. She had a beau-ti-ful home a few miles from the city. Her chil-dren and her grand-chil-dren went out to see her quite oft-en.

A-my thought there was no place like Grand-ma's for her sum-mer va-ca-tion. There was a lake, a boat, white lil-ies, squir-rels, grand trees old-er than grand-moth-er, her-self. Then there were barns, sta-bles, hor-ses, cows, calves, and a Shet-land pony that an-y child could ride.

A-my had her bi-cy-cle with her, and went off on it to see Grand-ma's neigh-bors and do any lit-tle er-rands that were re-quired. If cous-in Jam-ie were on a vis-it at the same time, per-haps he would mount Gyp-sy, the po-ny, and ride a-long by Am-y's side. A race be-tween the bi-cy-cle and the po-ny was great fun.

But there were days when rains kept the chil-dren in the house. Grand-ma told them love-ly sto-ries then. Jam-ie would sit play-ing with his sol-diers, and A-my al-ways had all she could do in her "house-days" as she called them, sew-ing to "keep her dolls in clothes," for "Elm Lodge" was a great place to wear out clothes.

The sto-ries Grand-ma liked best to tell were "true sto-ries" of the days when her own chil-dren were small, and A-my liked best to hear a-bout her own fa-ther and what he did when he was a child. So one day grand-ma told this:

GRANDMOTHER'S STORY.

"My lit-tle Har-vey was ver-y fond of fruit and flow-ers. When he was a wee bit of a lad he liked noth-ing bet-ter than to pull the tu-lips off by their heads and fill the crown of his hat with them. We told him that he must not do this, for there were not e-nough of them to waste in that way. He looked sad, but sat down un-der a tree, and seemed in deep thought. He was-n't more than three years old then.

"We left him and went in-to the house. In a few min-utes he went soft-ly down the gar-den walk, took off his shoes, stooped down, and scooped up earth e-nough to fill them, and then, in his stock-ing-feet, ran in a-mong the tulips and filled each cup full of the earth, emp-ty-ing all from his shoes in-to them. Daugh-ter and I had been watch-ing the child from the li-bra-ry win-dow. We crept out of the house and got in-to the gar-den as quick-ly as we could, and peep-ing be-hind the hon-ey suc-kle ar-bor, lis-tened while the lit-tle fel-low talked a-loud. 'Now 'ou tu-lips, dear, make haste and grow. All this dirt will make 'ou grow, I know, and then there'll be e-nough tu-lips for me to fill my 'it-tle hat full ev'ry day!'

"The lis-ten-ers had to laugh at that. My ba-by-boy dropped his shoes and ran as fast as he could a-way from us, 'round-and-'round, through the damp gar-den paths! He led us quite a chase be-fore we could catch him."

How A-my and Jam-ie laughed when Grand-ma told "tales out of school" as she called them.

ALL HER CHILDREN LIKED TO VISIT GRANDMA.

"But I must just tell you this, my dear, for the tu-lip-story al-ways makes me think of it.

"There came a day, at last, when we had to send Har-vey to school. Tom-my Short took him, with his green wool-len bag, slate, pen-cil, and two cook-ies, just round the cor-ner to Miss Burt's school. Aft-er a few weeks, Grand-pa Chase met the new pu-pil in the gar-den one day, just as he came in from school.

"'Well, Har-vey' said Grandpa, 'I suppose you can spell al-most an-y thing by this time!'

"'Yes, sir?' said Har-vey.

"'Can you spell rat?'

"'R-a-t, rat' said the small boy, with much pride.

"'Ver-y well, my boy. Now can you spell mouse?'

"Har-vey wrink-led up his fore-head and tried hard to think how it could be done. Aft-er a few min-utes the child said, 'No, Grandpa, I can't do it.'

"'What,' cried Grandpa Chase, 'you can spell a great rat and can't spell a lit-tle bit of a mouse!'

"A-gain Har-vey thought hard, and then he said, 'Yes I can spell a big rat, but I guess a spelt mouse is a great deal big-ger than a spelt rat!'"