LAZY MAGGIE.
Maggie is carrying her father’s breakfast to him. She was in the middle of a pleasant dream this morning when her mother came to her little cot, and said, “Wake up, Maggie, it is almost five o’clock.”
“Dear me,” yawned Maggie, “what a bother!” And I fear she did not have a very cheerful face, as she trudged to the wheat field.
The air was sweet with the smell of clover, the dew-drops sparkled in the sunshine, and the birds were singing gayly.
“What is the matter?” said a dew-drop on a white rosebud?
“I’m so sleepy,” answered Maggie, “and it’s a hard case to have to get up at five o’clock in the morning.”
“For shame,” said the dew-drop, “I’ve been at work all night watering this flower, and presently, the sun will dry me up. If you had come half an hour later, we shouldn’t have met.”
“Lazy little girl,” cried a skylark, “I have been flying a mile high already, and had a nice air bath. Now, I’m going to hunt for my breakfast.” And away he flew, joyously warbling,
“The birds are singing in every bush,At five o’clock in the morning.”
“The birds are singing in every bush,At five o’clock in the morning.”
“The birds are singing in every bush,At five o’clock in the morning.”
“The birds are singing in every bush,
At five o’clock in the morning.”
Maggie heeded the lesson of God’s little teachers, and met her father with a happy smile.
LAZY MAGGIE.
LAZY MAGGIE.
LAZY MAGGIE.