THE FAMILY CIRCLE

New Zealand Tablet, 18 February 1915, Page 62

THE FAMILY CIRCLE

THAT BROTHER OF MINE.

Who is it that comes in like a whirlwind And closes the door with a slam, And before he has taken his hat off Yells out for ‘some bread and some jam?’ Who is it that whistles so loudly. As he works at some tangle of twine. That will send his kite up into cloudland ? Why, of course, it’s that brother of mine.

Who is it that, when I am Aveary, Has always a hole in his coat A button to sew .in a hurry— A sail to be made for a boat ? Who is it that keeps in my basket, His marbles and long fishing line, And expects undisturbed there to find them None else than that brother of mine.

Who is it that I shall miss sadly When in want of a true, honest friend ? Who is it I’d rather have near me, When his boyhood has come to an end ? And Avhen I am far from the old home, And I long for a glimpse of sunshine, Who, then, do you think I would send for? • Why, of course, for that brother of mine.

SLOWASAPOKE, THE SNAIL

Once upon a time, there lived a wise, ant, a clever spider, a busy bee, and a slow snail. They all lived in the same garden. The ant lived under a stone ; the spider lived in a crack of the high garden Avail : the bee lived in a hive; the slow snail lived in the house that he carried on his back, and ho stayed on the garden path.

Now the ant, the spider, and the bee understood each other av ell. They shared each other’s wisdom and cleverness, and they approved of the busy bee’s buzzing; but they scorned the snail on the garden walk. What a stupid snail!’ the ant used to say, proud of his own wisdom.

‘What a slow creature!’ the spider used to say, thinking of his own quickness. ‘ What a lazy snail !’ the be© would buzz. ‘ Why doesn’t the snail do something? Is he going to remain forever in that one place on the garden Avalk, I wonder? Some day I intend to fly wide of the garden and over the Avail.’

4 Yes,’ replied the spider, ‘ I, too, intend to seek my fortune beyond the garden Avail. Fortune aAvaits cleverness. I, too, shall go some day.’ ‘ Yes, yes,’ declared the ant. ‘ Some day I will go also. lam not like the snail who is content to live on the garden walk, inching along toward nowhere.’ This each said many times when he Avas not occupied with his own wisdom, or cleA'erness, or business. And eA'ery time they said it, if they had but noticed, the slow snail had progressed one inch farther toward the garden gate. One day, when the ant had been more than usually wise, arid the spider more han usually clever, and when the bee had buzzed more busily than ever, they each thought of Slowasapoke, the snail, who Avas doing nothing either Avise, or clever, or bustling. ‘ I think,’ said the wise ant, 4 that it must be a sorry thing to be as stupid as a snail.’

‘Or as sloav, ’ put in the clever spider. ‘ Or as lazy,’ added the buzzing bee. ‘Yes! Yes!’ cried the ant, the spider, and the buzzing bee in chorus. With one accord they glanced at the garden Avalk where the snail used to be —but there was no snail there ! He had been inching toward the garden gate slowly and surely, and he had long ago passed under the garden gate and out into the wide, wide, beautiful world to seek his fortune.