THE COASTING PARTY

The hill was fine for coasting, The snow was well packed down, And Sammy Black and Margie White, And little Billy Brown, And also pretty Winnie Green And graceful Gertie Gray— Now, please, my little readers, Don't imagine what I say Means really that these boys and girls Were painted all this way; If so, such colored children Would be a bit too gay! Their fathers' names were Mr. Black, Or Mr. White, or Mr. Brown; And, funny, too, it was Greenville The name they called the town. Well, just as I was saying, The coasting was immense, And after school the boys and girls Were ready to commence. The sleds were in a big, long row, All tied together, too, As Sammy Black lay down to steer The merry-making crew. He didn't seem to mind the wind That o'er the snowdrifts blew, That made his cheeks so bright and red, His stubby nose so blue! "Come on, you fellers; hurry up! Quick, girls, get on your sled! And push against the other ones, I'm fixed to go ahead!" The last sled little Billy Brown Then pushed with all his might, And down the hill the train of sleds Began its snowy flight. Such yells and cries! and "Hold on tight! Don't drag your feet! Keep still! Don't lean so far upon the right, Or else we'll have a spill!" Each face was beaming with delight, Each voice was loud and shrill, The train was going all its might And nearly down the hill. Just as they reached the bottom, The front sled gave a swing, And plump into a big snowdrift They went like anything! The Blacks were mixed up with the Whites, The Browns on top of Green, A sort of coast kaleidoscope, With sleds stuck in between. And when they all were sorted out, No easy thing to do, They found that almost every boy And girl was black and blue!