THE LITTLE PLANT.

In my little garden bed Raked so nicely over. First the tiny seeds I sow. Then with soft earth cover. Shining down, the great round sun Shines upon it often; Little raindrops, pattering down, Help the seeds to soften. Then the little plant awakes! Down the roots go creeping. Up it lifts its little head Through the brown earth peeping. Higher and higher still it grows Through the summer hours, ’Till some happy day the buds Open into flowers. Emilie Poulsson.