work for your food in your old age. You shall be a grasshopper, free to dance in the meadow grass all the long summer days. I have prepared a dress for you, which shall protect you well." Then she gave Tithonus the wonderful grasshopper coat of mail which had been unknown on earth until this time. She tinted it a soft green so that he might not be noticed in the grass. Tithonus went that day to live in the meadow and there, any summer day, you may find him and his family hopping merrily about in the sunshine.

HOW THE ROBIN'S BREAST BECAME RED.

Long ago in the far North, where it is very cold, there was only one fire. A hunter and his little son took care of this fire and kept it burning day and night. They knew that if the fire went out the people would freeze and the white bear would have the Northland all to himself. One day the hunter became ill and his son had the work to do. For many days and nights he bravely took care of his father and kept the fire burning. The white bear was always hiding near, watching the fire. He longed to put it out, but he did not dare, for he feared the hunter's arrows. When he saw how tired and sleepy the little boy was, he came closer to the fire and laughed to himself. One night the poor boy could endure the fatigue no longer and fell fast asleep. The white bear ran as fast as he could and jumped upon the fire with his wet feet, and rolled upon it. At last, he thought it was all out and went happily away to his cave. A gray robin was flying near and saw what the white bear was doing. She waited until the bear went away. Then she flew down and searched with her sharp little eyes until she found a tiny live coal. This she fanned patiently with her wings for a long time. Her little breast was scorched red, but she did not stop until a fine red flame blazed up from the ashes. Then she flew away to every hut in the Northland. Wherever she touched the ground a fire began to burn. Soon instead of one little fire the whole north country was lighted up. The white bear went further back into his cave in the iceberg and growled terribly. He knew that there was now no hope that he would ever have the Northland all to himself. This is the reason that the people in the north country love the robin, and are never tired of telling their children how its breast became red.

AN INDIAN STORY OF THE ROBIN.

When an Indian boy was eleven years old, he was sent into a forest far away from his home. He had to stay there all alone and fast for seven days and nights. The Indians thought that at this time a spirit came into the youth which helped him to 

 Prev. P 5/58 next