FOR LITTLE FOLKS.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1136, 8 December 1893, Page 16

FOR LITTLE FOLKS.

Short and Sweet. “Leu-can-the-mum Vul-ga-re”—oh, you have a long name, too, You poor, dear little daisy, I can sympathize with you. Does not your head feel heavy with that dreadful name to hold, And don’t you feel, Leucanthemnm Vulgare, very old? I do, dear, when I ’member, though they think my name is “sweet" And love to say it it over—“ Gladys Constance Marguerite." And then, when you’ve been naughty, does daisy mamma say, “Leucanthemum Vulgare!” in such a stern, sad way? My mamma does — oh, daisy, dear, how many times she’s said, “Now, Gladys Constance Marguerite, go right up stairs to bed!” And then I know I’m very bad, for that’s my pun-I ish name. Oh, daisy, dear, do you suppose all mammas do the ' same? But I love best to call you, dear, just“daisy,” for, you see, That’s my pet name, the very same that every one calls me, And we are twins now, are we not? for both of us have woes About our long, long “punish names’’that no one ever knows. They may be “grand” and “dignified” and “sweet” and all the rest, But we both love, dear—don’t we?—our short daisy names the best. —Abbie F. Brown in St. Nicholas.

An Elephant’s Sunshade. On hot summer days in New York, when the mercury is well up in the nineties, it becomes almost a necessity to carry an umbrella or shade of some kind to protect ourselves from the burning rays of the sun. We should hardly expect, however, a native of India—residing in this city—to have the same need for a sunshade, particularly when the native is a huge Indian elephant. That an elephant should feel the heat in our climate seems rather absurd, but as he does it is quite in keeping with the general intelligence of this animal that he should invent some means of protecting himself from it.

The elephant inclosure in Central park contains no trees nor shade of any land, and on those hot days when the heat is almost unbearable it seems hotter there than elsewhere in New York. Grouped around the inclosure are usually scores of persons, many with sunshades and umbrellas, intently watching the elephants, Some of the huge animals are carefully tossing hay upon their own hacks, while others whose backs are almost covered may be seen peacefully resting. Newly mown grass is what the elephant prefers for this purpose—perhaps because it feels cooler than hay—but hay answers the purpose very well. How many visitors to the park on these warm days have realized that they were not the only ones carrying and that the elephants were protecting themselves in like fashion?—Meredith Nugent in St. Nicholas. The Child Harpist. Little Isabelle Bressler, the child harpist who created a sensation at GhickeringNeyr York, Recently by her admirable playing, was, bom in Lima, Pern, to 1879. She was taken to Paris in 1888 and entered the conservatory, where she received a first prize for harp playing

last year. Since then she has been giving concerts in Havana and South America, meeting everywhere with the most extraordinary success. The child seems to be not only a remarkably brilliant player, but a good musician as well, displaying a taste and delicacy far beyond