While overalls we found for Jack, With Daddy's old blue fishing sack. Leroy was oldest, so he wore A scout suit from the boy next door. _Then_— “Left, right.” Up and down we marched. “Hurray, Hurrah,” till all our throats were parched. Storming round our mother's chair, Giving her an awful scare, “Hurray, hurrah,” up and down we marched. And when we captured her at last, We kept her there and held her fast Until she bought us off with lunch, Then how we ran, her hungry bunch! APPLES IN WINTER A heartsome thing it is to look At evening in your study And find beside your favorite book Some apples cool and ruddy, Whose russet, yellow, brown, and red Are memories of the richness shed When lovely Autumn tossed her head And from the hilltops lightly fled. Their spicy skin, so crisp and tart, Recalls a nook where winds have been To flavor them with highest art By driving dew and sunshine in, While foaming juice and luscious meat Suggest the fragrance of the rain That flavored them with essence sweet And ripened them to match the grain. A heartsome thing it is to look At evening in your study And find beside your favorite book Some apples cool and ruddy, Whose russet, yellow, brown, and red Are memories of the richness shed When lovely Autumn tossed her head And from the hilltops lightly fled. THE BIRTH OF SPRING 1 Quick streams of little waters flow Beneath the winter's crusty snow, And everywhere that you may go 'Tis Spring, 'tis Spring you know! For bubbling till they break the snow The little waters singing go: Chorus “Come join the Company of Spring, Come robins, wrens, come all and sing. We'll make our ice-caves laugh and ring, We'll blend our torrent-song of Spring.” 2 The gardener trims the anxious trees And little twigs fly in the breeze; “Come float, come float, play you're a boat,” The waters call, “Come float. The noisy robins' earliest note Is bursting from his tiny throat, come float.” Chorus “O, join the Company of Spring, All you whose hearts are on the wing. Our winter-cares away we'll fling, And rhapsodize the living Spring.” * * * * * Transcriber's note: Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals. The captions for both illustrations on this book were found middle page in the page following the image. Because this couldn't be clearly reproduced in a TXT file, the captions were move back inside the “[Illustration]” tag. End of Project Gutenberg's Songs from the Smoke, by Madeleine Sweeny Miller