It snows! yes, it snows! and the children are wild, At thought of the fun in the snow-drifts up-piled; The boy with his first new boots is in sight, And the wee baby-girl, with her mittens so bright. They are tramping and tossing the snow as they run, And laughing and shouting, so brimful of fun; While the ten-year-old twins, in a somersault mood, Have measured their length from the barn to the wood. A dozen times, yes, or it may be a score, Till their cheeks are as red as the roses, and more; Then the elfin of twelve and the boy of fifteen, Are pelting each other with snowballs so keen, That we, who are older, forget to be staid, {245} And shout, each with each, as the youngsters, arrayed In feathery garments, press on or retreat, Determined to win, nor acknowledge defeat, And the snow tumbles down with such beauty and grace That the air seems filled up with soft, bridal-veil lace, Through whose meshes the sunbeams shall kiss Mother Earth, Till the buds and the blossoms are bred into birth. But the children, at length, tired out with their play, And stamping the snow from their feet by the way, Come slipping and stumbling and scrambling along, While the big brother catching the baby-girl's song, "Oh, my finders are told!" gives her now a gay toss, The golden hair streaming like distaff of floss; And so cheery the group that is ranged round the board, That for snow, blessed snow! we all thank the good Lord. {246} {247} AN OLD SAW. "If you'll break the first brake And will kill the first snake, You'll be sure to go through With what you undertake." Thus our Grandma, quaint but queenly, Taught us grand-bairns one by one; And the lesson relished keenly Filled each spring-time full of fun. For the watchful eyes were eager, And the flying feet must roam Till they every nook beleaguer Round the old ancestral home. * * * * * But 'twas not the broken brakelet That wrought good for after years; Not the killing of the snakelet, But the conquering of fears, And the patient, wistful watching, Educating thought and eye, Made the brakelet and the snakelet Types of weal for bye and bye. {248} _THE DANDELION BLOSSOM._ In the spring when the grass Had sprung up in the pass, And the meadows with velvet were green, We children would tease, "O, dear mother, please Let us doff shoes and stockings, (Ah! naught gave us shockings), And barefooted run o'er the leas, Aye, barefooted run o'er the leas." And mother, so wise, Looking into our eyes,-- {249} "There's a snowdrift down under the hill! But when you will bring me, Yes, when you will fling me A dandelion blossom To wear on my bosom You may barefooted run as you will, Aye, barefooted run as you will."