Almost hidden under the benevolent shade of an overhanging bough a little pond is lying. It has awaked from its long winter sleep of apathy and is upholding its world of life to the sunshine. The pale, apple-green growth that clings about the edges, the tall spikes of water-weed, the darting, skipping beetles and fishes and the graceful lilies floating about are all in love with the iridescent, opal tints of the water.

Here we may think of them together; for it would be a queer sight to see the bullfrog or the lily gambolling upon the sunny hillsides.