A Winter's Frolic: A Poem

A WINTER'S FROLIC. {For the Improvement Era.) Jack Frost climbed up in a tree, one day, Where the leaves lie dead, and the branches sway Hither and thither in rolicking glee — 0 boys, jolly boys, come frolic with me ! We'll climb, if you dare, to the mountain's crest Where the snowflakes sleep and the cloudlets rest ; And we'll throw a sheet on the sleepers there, And fasten them down, till the sunbeams rare Shall loosen their bands, and bid them go free. To dance with the violets dowfl to the sea. And then we will mount on the spangled wings Of beauteous night; as the north wind sings. We'll fly far away o'er hillock and dale, And weave, as we go, a shining veil With which to adorn the window panes Of the cozy cottages, down in the lanes ; Then we'll steal through the halls, and softly creep Into the rooms where the village belles sleep ; And when they awake — ha ! ha ! what fun — We'll pinch their noses, and away we'll run, To set a snare for some schoolboy's feet, As he hurries along the slippery street. "Don't forget the school girls," h'm, let me see: They mustn't fall down, but they can't go free; So we'll bite their red cheeks and nip their ears, And stiffen their toes — but hark ! to their cheers The old-fashioned bob swings round to the gate, And in they scramble, they scarcely can wait For foot-bricks and shawls ; and the horses, proud Of the jingling bells and the laughter loud. Are pawing the ground ; 0 boys ! see them go ! Over the ice and the beautiful snow ! Waving their hands and shouting for joy: "Hurrah for Jack Frost, he's a merry old boy." Ruth May Fox. Salt Lake City, Utah.