I'll tell you how the sun rose,- a ribbon at a time. The steeples swam with amethyst, the news like squirrels ran. The hills untied their bonnets, the bobolinks begun. Then I said softly to myself, "That must have been the sun!" But how he set, I know not. There seemed a purple stile which little yellow boys and girls were climbing all the while. Till when they reached the other side, a dominie in gray put gently up the evening bars, and led the flock away.