HEN the cold winter was changing into spring, and the primroses and violets were appearing in the fields and hedges, May Elton was born.

"What a tiny thing she is," said her father, gazing at her in delight; "my first little darling, my sweet spring snowdrop."

the

And as May grew older she was so fair and delicate that she kept name her father had given her, and was known to her friends as little Snowdrop.

Snowdrop was an only child, and was surrounded from her birth with every luxury that money could procure. But still she was often lonely, and pined for a brother or sister to share her games and pleasures.

Mrs. Elton loved her child, and did what she could to make her happy. It pleased her to hear her laugh and chatter, and so she tried to gather little companions about her as much as possible.

So when Snowdrop's sixth birthday came round, invitations were sent out in all directions, and children from two to eight years old were bidden to an afternoon party.

On the morning of the great day boxes and parcels arrived from cousins and aunts, and Snowdrop was deluged with presents. But in spite of all these kindly attentions the little girl was not happy; one thing was wanting that nothing could make up for, and that was her dear papa. He was absent on business, and could not return for his darling's birthday.

As Snowdrop sat surrounded by parcels, scarcely deigning to notice them, once she had seen what they contained, the nursemaid entered, carrying a cardboard box and a letter.

"Here's a poor battered-looking old thing, Miss Snowdrop; it's a present, I suppose," she said, scornfully; "but I don't think it's worth much. The letter is from your papa.'

"From papa? Oh, give it to me, Polly. Dear, darling papa!" and seizing the letter, the child covered it with kisses.

"Shall I read it for you, dear?" said Polly.

"Please do; but isn't it a pity I cannot read it for myself?"

VOL. XII., No. 130. April, 1884.

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"Yes, it is a pity; but I'll read you every word, never fear. Listen:

'I wish you a very happy birthday. I cannot tell you how sorry I am that I am unable to come home for your party. But I must stay up here a little longer to earn more bread and butter for my pet.

'What an old girl you are getting, Snow. Why, you will soon be able to help mamma in the housekeeping, and pour out my tea in the mornings. I send you a box of snowdrops, your little namesakes, and hope you will like them. I am too busy to go out to look for toys, but I am sure you will get plenty.

'God bless you, darling.

Your loving father,

George Elton."

"Dear kind papa," cried Snowdrop, taking the letter from Polly, and kissing it again. "I would rather have this letter than all the presents; but, oh! I wish he had come home. There is lots of bread and butter downstairs, and cakes and all sorts of good things; I wish he wouldn't get any more. Mamma says she hates business; so do I, when it takes my dear papa away."

"That's very fine," said Polly, laughing; "but when folks like grand houses and smart frocks, someone must find money to pay for them. You know you like your papa and mamma to give you rich presents, Miss Snowdrop."

"No, I don't," said the little girl, opening the battered box, and laying the white blossoms against her lips. "I love these flowers more than any present I've had to-day."

"Well, you've funny taste, then," cried Polly; "for they're poor peeky things. Why, there's flowers in the drawing-room ten times as nice-flowers that cost heaps of money."

"I don't care; I love my snowdrops best of all."

So, when four o'clock came round, and the little girl tripped down stairs to welcome her guests, a bunch of her father's flowers were pinned in front of her dainty frock.

But in truth, as Polly had said, there were many flowers to put them in the shade, for rare plants and exotics stood on every side. No trouble had been spared in making preparations for the party, and the beautiful drawing-rooms were decorated as though for a ball.

Snowdrop took her place by her mother's side, and as her friends appeared, received them with smiles, and thanked them for their presents and good wishes.

The last arrival was a rosy-cheeked, dark-eyed girl of eight, arrayed in crimson plush and old point lace. Towards her Snowdrop flew in delight, and clasped her arms round her neck.

"How late you are, Effie," she cried, "and I wanted to show you all my presents before the party began."

"I could not come any earlier, darling," said Effie, returning the child's kisses with warmth. "Mother wanted to bring me herself, and as she had some friends to luncheon she could not get away any sooner."

"Look, aren't my flowers pretty ?" said Snowdrop, fingering her treasures tenderly. "Papa sent me these all the way from Manchester." "Did he ?-they are very nice," said Effie, carelessly, as she glanced round the room. "But what a strange present! I should have fancied he would give you something handsome. Papa says he's very rich."

"I suppose he is; but I love my snowdrops, Effie, and I don't care about handsome things."

"Well, you're a goose then. I like things that look good and that last; snowdrops wither up and die."

"Yes; so they do, poor wee things.'

"This is what my papa gave me," said Effie, twisting a gold bangle about on her arm; "this is something you can keep."

Yes, so it is; but, Effie, I like my snowdrops best."

"What a funny child!"

"Yes, so I am," cried Snowdrop, laughing merrily; "nurse says I am uncanny,' whatever that may mean."

"Oh, it means queer, funny; so it suits you very well," cried Effie. "So it does. But come along, dear, and let us take our seats; the conjuror is going to begin, and I am longing to see what he will do."

"What wonderful friends those children are," said Effie's mamma to Mrs. Elton. "I hope they will remain so all their lives."

"Yes," said Mrs. Elton, smiling. "Snowdrop loves Effie, and has great faith in her opinions. But your daughter is more fortunate in having brothers and sisters to make her home happy; my little one is sometimes very lonely."

"Yes, I daresay. But being one of a large family has its disagreeable sides also. Effie will not have so many of the good things of this world as Miss Snowdrop, I can tell you."

"That will not harm her," said Mrs. Elton; "children are happier when they do not get everything they want."

But here the conjuror began his entertainment, and ladies and children ceased all conversation and became absorbed in watching him.

For some time all eyes were fixed upon him: sharp little minds fancied they could detect the way he did his tricks, and followed closely his every movement. But he was a clever man, and managed to puzzle them completely.

Balls and pennies were picked from behind unsuspecting ears, and from amongst crops of curly hair; handkerchiefs were torn to pieces

and mended again; glasses of water were pushed down throats and taken out of backs amidst shrieks of laughter, and then the performance was brought to an end by a plentiful distribution of crackers from a hat.

"Now for the bran-pie," cried Snowdrop, springing to her feet, as the last cracker flew across the room: "Now for the bran-pie. Follow me to the nursery."

Like a flock of birds the children rose, and ran joyfully up the stairs.

Snowdrop and Effie were well to the front, and as they entered the day nursery they found Polly keeping watch over the precious bran-pie. "What a funny thing," cried Effie, as the company trooped in and ranged themselves in a ring round the room. "Why, it is a big bath full of bran. How very strange!"

"Oh, but there is something in the bran," cried a little girl, laughing. "Don't you remember the pie we had, Snowdrop ?"

"Yes, I remember it," said Snowdrop, gaily. "When the things were taken out, the boys said they would plant me, as I was a flower, to see if I would grow. Oh, it was great fun! They put me in, and covered me up with bran; it was jumping out of my sash the whole evening afterwards."

"So it was. And mamma said she thought it would never get swept out of the carpets again."

"Oh, it was fun!" said Snowdrop: "May we begin, Polly, dear ?" "Yes, you may begin; but the little ones must come first," and Polly drew three fat babies out of the ring.

"I tant find nuffing," cried a sprite of two; "dere's nuffing but ban in dis pie."

"Dive deep, deep, Trotty," called a merry-looking boy; "the toys are sure to be a good way down."

So Trotty and her friends plunged their little arms far into the bran, and with Polly's help brought out some substantial parcels, with which they retired in delight.

Then all the children came in turn, and after that there was nothing but noisy, hopeless confusion. Such laughing and chatting, such opening of packets, such fun and merriment never was heard; and when at last the pie was emptied of all its treasures, the nursery strewn with papers and covered with bran, the young people gathered up their toys and returned to the drawing-room.

And what a charming picture they made, midst the flowers and lights, as they flew over the parquet floor to the sound of a gay waltz.

Snowdrop and Effie were the life of the evening. They danced and romped, coaxed the shy ones to do the same, and made the babies happy by drawing them into all the games and fun.

And when supper was over and the last little guest had departed,

Snowdrop hung round her mother, kissing her and thanking her for the pleasure she had given her.

"I was so happy, mamma," she said. "You were a good mamma to give me such a nice party.'

"I am glad my darling was happy. My little Snowdrop looked so sad this morning when papa did not appear."

"Yes; but then his letter and his dear little flowers made me feel quite glad; but, O mamma, they are quite withered and dead."

"Yes, darling, so they are," said her mother, taking the child on her knee; "put them in water and they will revive again. But what was that, Snow? I thought I heard a cab stop at the door. Wouldn't it be nice if it were papa, after all ?"

"Oh, so nice!" cried the child, eagerly. "But I don't think there was a cab; I

But as she spoke the door opened, and Mr. Elton, looking pale and anxious, entered the room.

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'Papa, papa," cried Snowdrop, and she sprang into his arms. "My darling, my little Snowdrop," he said, fondly. "Have you been happy to-day?"

“Oh, yes, papa; but I longed for

you to come home. And see, I wore your flowers at my party; they looked so pretty."

"That is right, dear. And now my little girl must go to bed, I have something to say to mamma."

"Let me hear it, papa; don't have any secrets from your little Snow."

"My darling, it will not be a secret, long. Eleanor," he said, approaching his wife, and taking her hand, "I have bad news for you:"

"Bad news, George ?" she said, quickly. "What is it? Do not fear; I am ready to share your troubles. I have felt something was wrong for a long time; but I am quite ready to help you.'

"That is my own brave wife. And it may not be so bad as I think; but we must not live as we have been doing. I have lost a great deal of money, and we must retrench. For the present, anyway, I am very poor."

"My poor George!" she said, putting her arm round his neck. "But do not fret for me; I can never be poor so long as I have you and my little Snowdrop."

"Papa," said the child, creeping up and pushing something into her father's hand, "there is my little plush purse.. You can have it and all the money that's in it. Here are two whole shillings; that will help you till you find your money again."

"My little pet," cried her father, kissing her lovingly, "it will help me greatly; God bless you, darling, you and your brave-hearted mother. But you must go to bed, I cannot allow my Snowdrop grow pale; so now for a ride on my back up the stairs."