"HO, for a frolic!"
Said Johnny the stout;
"There's coasting and sledding,--
I'm going out!"
Scarcely had Johnny
Plunged in the snow,
When there came a complaint
Up from his toe:--
"We're cold," said the toe,
"I and the rest;
There are ten of us freezing
Standing abreast."
Then up spoke an ear:
"My! but it's labor
Playing in winter. Eh,
Opposite neighbor?"
"Pooh!" said his nose,
Angry and red;
"Who wants to tingle?
Go home to bed!"
Eight little fingers,
Four to a thumb,
All cried together,
"Johnny, we're numb!"
But Johnny the stout
Wouldn't listen a minute;
Never a snow-bank
But Johnny was in it.
Tumbling and jumping,
Shouting with glee,
Wading the snow-drifts
Up to his knee.
Soon he forgot them,
Fingers and toes,--
Never once thought of
The ear and the nose.
Ah, what a frolic!
All in a glow,
Johnny grew warmer
Out in the snow.
Often his breathing
Came with a joke:
"Blaze away, Johnny!
I'll do the smoke."
"And I'll do the fire,"
Said Johnny the bold;
"Fun is the fuel
For driving off cold."
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A FARMER in Bungleton had a colt
That couldn't be taught to moo;
And he kept his cow under lock and bolt
Till the smith could make her a shoe.
His ducks wouldn't gobble, his geese wouldn't quack,
His cat couldn't bark at all.
"I'm clean discouraged!" he cried; "alack!
I'll give up my farm in the fall."
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