ind deed will make you feel ashamed and sorry so long as you remember it. No matter to whom the kindness or unkindness may be done—a king or a butterfly, your own dear mother or a little toad in the garden walk. I have known children who could not bear to see even a lily broken down by rain, its beautiful white flowers all lying in the dirt. I have watched them prop it up with sticks, and gently wash the earth away from its delicate petals, and have said to myself, "Ah, little one, the fairy Love is nestling in your heart."

And I have seen the fairy Contentment start from her nest among the lilies, and follow the little one as she ran off to play.

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CHAPTER VI.

HOW FAIRIES LOOK.

Do you want to know how Contentment looks? Some people think she is the most beautiful among all the fairies; (and there are hosts of them, and some of the bad ones, even, have handsome faces.) Her cheeks are not quite as rosy as Love's, and her mild eyes do not sparkle and glitter as brilliantly; but she has a smile even brighter than Love's own; this sheds a peaceful light about Contentment wherever she goes; and wherever it falls, beautiful flowers will blossom, and the air grow clear and fragrant.

She wears a wreath of starbeams, braided into a delicate but brilliant crown; and there is no place so dark but this will light a path through it. Her pure white wings look like two lily petals, and though always clean and fresh themselves, I suppose they have dusted away more heaps of care, and though so delicate, have lifted people safely over wider seas of trouble, than all the strong arms in the world—all the railroads and steamships put together.

She always carries in her hand an urn, from which a sweet and delicate odor arises like incense.

Perhaps you will be surprised when I tell where she found this urn. It