ONCE upon a time there was a little girl named Nettie, who lived with an Aunt and cousin. She was very unhappy, for her naughty cousin used to tell falsehoods about her, which the Aunt believed. Poor Nettie was constantly being punished for faults which she had not committed, but she was so patient and obedient that her Aunt’s heart was touched at last. “Nettie does everything that I tell her,” said the woman to her daughter; “I do not think that she can be such a very bad girl, after all.”

“I know of something she could not do,” said Nettie’s spiteful cousin; “only let me try her!”

“Well, just this once you may,” replied the girl’s Mother; “but if she does not fail, I shall not allow you to tease or worry her again.”

Then they called Nettie, and told her that she must go into the wood and gather a bunch of violets. In spring-time, this would have been an easy task, but it was now mid-winter. Poor Nettie, in a miserably thin frock, wandered forth, shivering and crying. She knew that she should find no violets in such weather, yet she dared not return without them. What was she to do?

Presently she saw in the distance a bright gleam as of flame. “What can that be?” said Nettie to herself; “I will go and see.” So she went in the direction of the light, and came soon to a fire, around which were twelve men, each seated upon a big stone. The oldest of these men—a very old fellow indeed, whose white beard swept the ground—spoke kindly to the little girl, asking her who she was and what she wanted. Nettie told her sad story. All the men felt very sorry for her, and the oldest one said: “My name is January. You cannot find violets in my month. Yet I think I can find a way to help you.” Then he turned to one of his brothers, and said to him: “Suppose you change places with me, Brother March?”

Brother March jumped up at once, and changed places with his eldest brother. As soon as he had done this, a wonderful change took place in everything. The snow vanished, the sun shone, the air grew softer, the trees began to bud. Nettie forgot her troubles as she saw a bird alight on the grass at her feet, and close to the spot was a bed of the loveliest violets she had ever seen.

She thanked the kind brothers and returned to her Aunt’s house. The violets must surely have been magic flowers, as from that day Nettie was well and kindly treated by her Aunt, and even her cousin ceased to torment her.

E. Dyke.