on, “I saved my dimes and bought fine valentines made of silver paper cut into hearts and cupids, with what I thought beautiful ‘poetry’ printed on them.”

“And what are your valentines like now?” asked Davie.

“You'll find them rather heavy, I'm afraid,” said his mother merrily; “you see, Davie, I have found out that Love has something else to do besides playing with silver hearts and cupids, though that's all right too. There are some poor and tired and lonely people in the world who don't want you to give them money, or to offer them help on most days of the year; it hurts their feelings. But on love-days, like Christmas, and Thanksgiving, and Valentine's Day, you can give them a love gift, and they are pleased. I have some like that for you to carry around to-morrow.”

When Davie came downstairs early the next morning, he brought with him one of his cherished “Peter Rabbit” books. “Mother,” he said, “I want to begin to keep Valentine Day like you do.”

So “Peter Rabbit” found himself tucked in Mrs. Tobin's bundle for Jack Tobin, who had never had that sort of valentine, or indeed any sort, in his life. And it was queer how all day long the thought of that new sort of valentine he had sent out made Davie smile to himself!

VALENTINES.

A TREE TALK.

What a wonderful thing a tree is! A live thing, a useful thing, a beautiful thing, and so common that we scarcely think of it as a wonder at all.

Think of the great families of trees, the maple, the beech, the birch, the hemlock, the spruce, the oak, and so on and on and on. So many alike, and yet each one different. What a world of wonders!

In the human family there are oddities, you know,