"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's ten of us freezing,
Standing abreast."
Then up spoke an ear;
"My, but it's labor--
Playing in winter. Eh!
Opposite neighbour!"
"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."
[Illustration: Going to dig Sand.]
[Illustration: Sorry He Played.]
[Page 86--Play Land]
[Illustration: Our Lamb Playing Tennis.]
[Illustration: Our Puss Blowing Bubbles.]