The Little Beggar's Buttonhole Bouquet

T was on a bitter winter's day, X saw a strange, pathetic sight; Thestreets were gjoomy, cold. and my, The air with falling snow was white. A little ngged beggar child Went running through the cold and storm ; He looked as ifhe oever smiled, A ifhe never had been warm. Sudden, he spied beneath his feet A faded button-hole bouquet: Trampled and wet with rain and ileet, Witheredandworthless, there it lay. He bounded, srizeü it with delight, Stood still and shook it free from snow ; luto his coat he pinned it tight, - Uu eyes Ut up with sudden glow. He sauntered on, all pleased and proud, IIiü face transformed in every line; And lingered that the hurryiog crowd Might chance to sec that he was rïne. The man who threw the tlowers away Xever one half such pleasure had ; The flowers' best work was done that day In cheeing up that bcggar lad. Ah me. too often we iorget. Happy in these good homes of ours, How many in this world are vet Glad even of the withered flowers I