THE COMING OF THE SNOW.

Down, out of Cloudland, comes the snow,

Like feathers idly floating.

Come, in good earnest, snow, and give

Old earth its winter coating.

Thicker and faster fall the flakes;

The trees and fields are whitening;

And at the nurs’ry window here

The children’s eyes are bright’ning.

Says Frank—“The witches in the north

Their feather beds are shaking.”

Says Dick—“They must be plucking geese.

This pother to be making.

If only all this snow will lie

Till after school this morning,

I’ll snowball ev’ry one of you;

So now I give fair warning.

“As Cousin May is fond of balls,

She shall have half a dozen.”

Then loudly laughs the saucy boy,

And merrily his cousin;

The sun, too, smiles from out a cloud,

On Dick in fancy pelting.

What will he do at twelve o’clock?

For see—the snow is melting!

DICK DISAPPOINTED.