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.”
Maggie heeded the lesson of God’s little teachers, and met her father
with a happy smile.
[Illustration: LAZY MAGGIE.]