When the four Horses of the Sun
Were little leggy things,
When they could only jump and run
And hadn't grown their wings,
The Sun-God sent them out to play
In a field one July day.
Oh, the four Horses of the Sun
They galloped and they rolled,
They leapt into the air for fun
And felt so brave and bold;
And when they'd done their gallopings
They'd grown four splendid pairs of wings.
The Sun-God fetched them in again
To draw his car of gold;
But you can still see very plain
Where each one leapt and rolled;
For from each hoof-mark, every one,
There sprang a little golden sun,
And that same little golden flower
People call Colt's Foot to this hour.
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"The stove will stand by itself anywhere. It omits neither smoke nor
smell."--_Provincial Paper._
We know that stove.
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[Illustration: _Lady._ "CAN YOU SHOW ME SOMETHING SUITABLE FOR A BIRTHDAY
PRESENT FOR A GENTLEMAN?"
_Shopwalker._ "MEN'S FURNISHING DEPARTMENT ON THE NEXT FLOOR, MADAM."
_Lady._ "WELL, I DON'T KNOW. THE GIFT IS FOR MY HUSBAND."
_Shopwalker._ "OH, PARDON, MADAM. BARGAIN COUNTER IN THE BASEMENT."]
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