for yours were the sweetest in the garden."

"Go away," called the Apple Fairy. "I don't care about your old apples; I am going to rest."

"How very strange!" said the birds to one another. "This is not like our little Apple Fairy of other springs." They flew away to the flowered trees to sing.

The sun shone brightly, the air was clear and warm, and the apple fairies came up from their workrooms for their spring dance on the young clover-leaves. "But where is our little sister?" they asked. They ran to her tree, only to find it bare and empty.

"Where are you, little sister?" they called.

She came up and stood on a branch to look at them.

"What is the matter?" they asked. "Why has your tree no flowers, while ours are pink? Where are your petals? Perhaps you have not yet had time to unroll them all. Shall we help you?"

"No, thank you," she said; "I am having a rest; there will be no apples this year on my tree, for I have slept all the winter and am going to play all the summer."

The fairies looked shocked. "You mustn't do that!" they cried. "Why, if we all did that there would be no apples at all!"

"I don't care about the old apples," she said sulkily, and down she went again.

She came up a few minutes later to peep at the happy fairies dancing on the clover, while the birds sang their gayest songs, and the crickets played their little banjos; but she did not join them, for she felt that they did not approve of her laziness. "Ah, well, my leaves will soon be out, for I put the buds on last summer," she said to herself. "When they come I shall make a swing, and swing all through the long sunny days."

Soon the leaves opened out. She made the swing, hung it on a branch, and sat in it in the pleasant shade, while the other fairies polished up the growing apples and formed the buds for the next year's leaves. She was not really happy, but she tried to think she was. She was rather lonely, and, somehow, it was dull when there was nothing to do. But she did not go down to her work; she swung herself to and fro, to and fro, till the autumn came, and the apples on the other trees were ripe.

One day a merry, childish voice floated through the garden: "Oh, grandpa! it's my birthday, so I have come for an apple off your best tree."

Then at last the Apple Fairy hung her head, and was sorry, for her punishment had come. Every year, on her birthday, pretty little Elsie had been given the best apple in the garden, and every year until now the Apple Fairy had been proud to know that it had been picked from her tree. Now, alas! she had no apples. Elsie would be disappointed; and she was very fond of Elsie.

Elsie was indeed disappointed. She listened to her grandfather as he told her how his best apple-tree had failed this year, and how he thought he must cut it down if it did not do better next year. Then Elsie came and stood under the tree and looked up anxiously into the branches. "I am so sorry!" she said aloud. "I wonder if it will have apples on next year? I do hope it will."

"It shall! Indeed it shall!" cried the Apple Fairy. She sprang to the end of a branch so that Elsie could see her. "I have been lazy," she said. "I have slept all the winter and have played all the summer, but now I shall work. You shall have apples next year. Good-bye, little Elsie! Here is my swing."

She took down her swing, put it into Elsie's hands, and went down to her workroom. Elsie was so astonished at the sight of a real fairy and a real fairy swing that she could find nothing to say; but, when she came again the next year, the apples on her favourite tree were again the finest in the garden, and the Apple Fairy was again busy and happy.

JOHNNY CROCUS

"Wake up! Wake up, little Johnny Crocus! Sit on my knee and begin to grow."

Johnny woke up, sat on his mother's knee, and began to grow. His mother fed him on rich white food, and wrapped him warmly in soft blankets, so he grew big and strong. They lived together under the ground, in a little round house with brown walls.

One day Johnny said: "Now, I should like to go up and see what the world is like. May I go up to-day?"

"Not yet," said his mother. "You must make your flower first."

So Johnny set to work to make his flower. In the middle he set the pistil with its fans. Round the pistil he put the orange-coloured stamens with their long narrow sacks on their heads, ready to be filled with pollen. Outside the stamens he made a row of petals, small and closely folded now, but soon to grow big and wide. Then he wrapped a fine white silk cloak round the whole flower to keep it from harm.

"My flower is made," he said to his mother. "May I go up now to see what the world is like?"

"Not yet," said the mother. "Make your leaves first."

So he made his leaves and set them closely round the flower. They were long and thin and pale yellow, for they could not turn green till they reached the sunlight.

"My leaves are made," he said to his mother. "May I go up now to see what the world is like?"

"Not yet," said his mother. "Make your pollen first."

So he made his pollen, and filled the long sacks with it. Then his flower was quite ready. He wrapped one white silk cloak after another over flower and leaves together, till they were so snugly covered that no greedy insect could reach them.

"My pollen is made," he said to his mother. "May I go up now to see what the world is like?"

"Yes," said his mother. Johnny jumped for joy. He pushed and pushed through the brown earth above him; at last out popped his little head into the light.

The winter had not yet gone; snow still lay in shaded places. But the sun was shining, and he shone now full on Johnny Crocus. The silken cloaks fell away, the leaves sprang out and turned green, and slowly the flower opened its beautiful golden heart to the warmth of the sunshine.

"Why, there is Johnny Crocus!" called the sun. He shone more brightly than ever on the gleaming petals.

"If Johnny is up we must be stirring too," said the other crocuses. They sprang up and nodded and laughed to Johnny across the ground. Then the snowdrops peeped out, and soon the whole garden woke up, and the spring came.

THE DAFFODIL BABY

It was winter time, and the Daffodil Baby lay wrapped in her warm brown blankets under the ground. But she was not a contented Baby; she wanted to be up above the ground to see what the great world was like. "It is very dull down here," she said to her little friend, the Earth-worm. "Do please go up and see if it is time for me to rise."

The Earth-worm wriggled his way to the top of the ground, but he soon came back, shivering with cold. "Don't think of going up yet," he said; "lie down and sleep again in your warm blankets. On the earth there is nothing to be seen but snow and ice. You would be frozen if you went up now."

So the Daffodil Baby lay down and went to sleep, and slept for many days and nights. By and by, however, she woke and grew restless again. "Please see if I may go up yet," she said. The kind Earth-worm went up again, but came back as quickly as before. "Stay where you are," he cried. "It has rained so much that all the garden is flooded. You would be drowned if you went up now."

The Daffodil Baby had to lie down again. She tried to sleep, but she only grew more restless day by day. At last she begged the little Earth-worm to go up once more and see what the world was like. This time he came back smiling. "You may safely go up now," he said. "The snow and floods are all away, and the sunbeams are there. They are looking for you."

The Daffodil Baby jumped for joy. She sprang out of her blankets and began to push her way up as fast as she could, wrapping herself as she went in a warm, thick cloak of green. When she reached the top she felt the little sunbeams lay their warm hands on her, and she heard her tall