She took the cup
that Hebe held out to her, drank the divine
ambrosia, and became immortal.
Light came to her face like moonrise, two
radiant wings sprang from her shoulders; and even
as a butterfly bursts from its dull cocoon, so the
human Psyche blossomed into immortality.
Love took her by the hand, and they were
never parted any more.
WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY
(FEBRUARY 22)
THREE OLD TALES
BY M. L. WEEMS (ADAPTED)
I. THE CHERRY TREE
When George was about six years old, he was
made the wealthy master of a hatchet of which,
like most little boys, he was extremely fond. He
went about chopping everything that came his
way.
One day, as he wandered about the garden
amusing himself by hacking his mother's pea-
sticks, he found a beautiful, young English cherry
tree, of which his father was most proud. He
tried the edge of his hatchet on the trunk of the
tree and barked it so that it died.
Some time after this, his father discovered what
had happened to his favorite tree. He came into
the house in great anger, and demanded to know
who the mischievous person was who had cut
away the bark. Nobody could tell him anything
about it.
Just then George, with his little hatchet, came
into the room.
``George,'' said his father, ``do you know who
has killed my beautiful little cherry tree yonder
in the garden? I would not have taken five
guineas for it!''
This was a hard question to answer, and for a
moment George was staggered by it, but quickly
recovering himself he cried:--
``I cannot tell a lie, father, you know I cannot
tell a lie! I did cut it with my little hatchet.
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