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They lived close together on the beach, and they were âll discontented, and every day they said, 'Oh, why were we born pebbles?'

"One of them had fallen in love with a Wâter Lily that lived in the lāke; and every summer when the Lily lifted up her head, and her white dress gleamed in the sunshine, hē sighed, 'Oh, why was I born a pebble? If I had wings, I would fly to the Lily.' And sō hē fretted and pīned, but he did not grōw much thinner on that account, for that is not in the nature of stōnes.

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The second Pebble did not care for the Lily at âll; hẽ had a passion for calculation, and thought hẽ could distingüish himself in arithmetic. He fancied he knew exactly how many Pebbles lived on the beach, and he calculated how much cleverer he was than all of them put together, and that amuṣed him, and he said, 'If I could only meet with some clever person who understood my worth, I should certainly bē taken to the village ÿonder, and might be of great service in the schools.'

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The thîrd Pebble knew nothing of love, still less about figures. He prided himself upon his shāpe and color; hē was always saying, 'Why must I lie here among common Pebbles? I am sure, if I were examined, I should prove a most valuable specimen for a mūṣēum; but no one comes here except the cattle.'

"Sō the three Pebbles complained to each other, and sometimes they grew räṭher tired of each other's

repīnings and wishes. 'Oh, that I could fly to the Lily' sighed the first. If she loved you, she would come over the lake to you,' said the calculating Pebble, in a provōking way. 'Alas! that is impossible, replied the first; 'do ÿoû not know that shē haṣ ties of the most binding nātūre in her peaceful hōme? It is impossible—shē cannot break them—and were they broken, how could sō refined a creature püt up with the vulgarity of this stōny multitūde?'

"I would I were on the first shelf of a great mūṣēum,' said ṭhe gay-coloured Pebble again.

"Hush!' said the first; 'don't yoû see something? Perhaps our time is come.' Then they all looked up eagerly, in spite of their blunt neighbors, who never believed a word they said about lucky pebbles that had come to honor and distinction. And sō one fine summer afternoon three little boys went down to the beach to play. They were rōsy-cheeked little fellows, with clean pinafores, and straw hats âll stuck över with burs. And when the three friends saw them they whispered that these must be princes or elves of some kind, because they looked sō beautifül and happy. The other Pebbles heard their whisperings, and when they saw the boys run about the shōre in their coarse pinafores and clumsy shoes, they laughed till they crunched and rattled again. After a while the boys sat down close by the three friends, and began to arrange the burs on their hats like crowns.

"You see we are right,' whispered the three Pebbles âll together.

"One of the boys looked down just then for a bur that had fallen, and cried out, 'See, what a capital duck-and-drāke stōne!' and he took it up and showed it to his brothers.

"Duck-and-drāke stōne!' thought the Pebble, not very much pleased at the praise, for he was jealous of the graceful Swan that swam over the lake every evening to the home of the Wâter Lily.

"I'll try it,' said the boy; so he got up and swung hiş ärm, and away the Pebble flew-ōh, happiness !— bounding lightly over the clear wâter, skimming the blue ripples, many and many a time, and reaching the White Lily at last.

"His friends said, 'He is happy;' but the other Pebbles âll declared he was drowned.

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'Meantime another of the boys was searching busily among the Pebbles, and hē said, 'I've lost my slāte pencil, and I must find another to take to school to-morrow;' and presently he took up the calculating Pebble, saying, 'Hēre's one that will do famously;' and hē māde a sum with it, to find out how much his new pencil would cost less than thē ōld one, and then put it in his pocket to take to school.

"The gay-colored Pebble was now the only one left, and not in the best of humors at being so long ōverlooked. When the boys were going away, the youngest took him up, and tossed him high in thē air without so much as looking at him first. Down he came into a gärden, where a little girl was walking with her doll; she couldn't think where the Pebble

had come from, and ran to pick it up; but when she saw how prettily it was märked and shaped, she said, 'I dare say it fell out of the skỹ, and iș a greāt curiosity. That was a word she had learned from her brother, who was a big boy. So she carried the Pebble into the house, and got upon a stool to put it upon the märble chimney-piece, between a piece of spär and a bit of copper-ōre. And the little gîrl thought it a great curiosity, and the Pebble thought so too, and they didn't care what anybody else thought."

"Thank you," said the child to the Bramble; "I'll go now; but may I take some of the wool? it will do for a pincushion." The Bramble did not think this polite, but she said, "Yes;" and so the lîttle girl picked off the wool, saying, “I'll leave ÿoû mỹ flowers instead."

The ōld Bramble certainly did not like any flowers sō well as her own white blossoms; but she said, "Very well, you may leave them, for they will bring the bees, and I shall have a chat with them when you are gone."

22. THE THISTLE-SEED.

The old Thistle grew in a large field not very fär from the hedge, and a stiff stātely dame she waṣ. She stood bōlt upright, and held out her shärp prickles as a wârning to all that came by not to approach too near. In truth she was very fearless

and stout-hearted, and the only living thing shē dreaded was an Ass. She would say, "Though hẽ looks so stupid and härmless, hē iṣ mōre dāngerous and mischievous than any other creature; hē neither respects one's station nor one's prickles. I cannot endure thōṣe long grey ears."

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The ōld Thistle was fond and proud of her children, but she was very particular about them. She did not approve the rambling ways of the blue Vetches and white Bind-weed at âll to climb ōver hedges and cling to every shrub and tree they might meet, she thought extrēmely undignified, and the sign of a very bad education.

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Her children were all dressed exactly alike, in little short purple petticoats, and kept together in the narrow green nursery at the top of the house. There they might enjoy the sunshine, and see what was going on around; but as to dancing and playing with the leaves and flowers about them, that was quite out of the question.

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Only wait," the ōld Thistle said "only wait patiently till yoû are ōlder, the sun will soon change yoûr purple frocks into white silken wings, and then you may fly whither ÿoû will into the wide world." So the children waited.

It was the very last day of July when the old Thistle tōld her children that next morning, at sunrīşe, they were to leave home; a neighborly Breeze had promised to câll as he passed, and teach them to use their wings.

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