Jack Frost plays a rough sort of game With the children wherever he goes: He pinches their cheeks; Their noses he tweaks; And he treads on their ten little toes. Jack Frost makes the ground rather hard: But with thick boots we clatter about; And we run till our breath Puffs away like a wreath Of white steam from the teakettle's spout. Jack Frost lays his hand on the pond, And turns it to glittering ice; Then the skaters they glide, And the sliders they slide: Think of that, Charley; isn't it nice! Jack Frost, he is sure to be found Where the sleigh-bells are tinkling clear; As the horses, so strong, Canter gayly along, While the lads give a shout and a cheer. Jack Frost, then, you're welcome again; Of pleasures you bring us a store: But be mild as you can, Oh, you fierce little man! When you visit the feeble and poor. GEORGE BENNETT. [Illustration] MISS JONES'S PICTURE. I HAVE just been looking at Miss Jones's picture. How do you think Miss Jones looks? She wears a shawl pinned close up to her throat, a cap tied under her chin, and a pair of spectacles over some very wise-looking eyes. What a funny-looking picture! I call it a funny picture, because the clothes are an old lady's clothes; but the face is a little girl's face, round and plump and rosy. If I could take off the cap and the shawl and the spectacles, I should see a little girl of four years, with a white dress, a pink sash, and long curls hanging down over her shoulders. [Illustration] Her name is Edith May. Her mamma calls her Edie. Edie likes to fix herself up, and "play people" as she calls it. She takes many different parts. Sometimes she is an old lady, and sometimes she is a young lady. Sometimes she plays she is mamma; and then she runs round taking care of her dollies, and says she doesn't know what she _shall_ do now that Tilly has the measles, and Hannah has the chicken-pox, and she _verily_ believes that the baby has the measles too. The other day, she said she was going to be Miss Jones, and go down to the saloon and have her picture taken. So she fixed herself up with cap and spectacles and shawl, and went down to the photograph-room, and told the artist that she was Miss Jones, and she had called to have her picture taken. Then the artist placed a chair for her, and she sat up as straight as she could. When the pictures were finished, he sent them to her mamma, who has sent one to me; and here you have it in "The Nursery." S. F. W. [Illustration] SUE'S SEASONS.