. St. Nicholas [serial]. t hall. Where deep the streamlet runs through primrosedbanks,Where cold winds never blow nor gray cloudsfrown,We 11 nest together in the golden spring,And carol daily as lifes sun goes down. MY FAVORITE EPISODE IN MYTHOLOGY. BY MARY ELSIE NEWTON (AGE 13). {Gold Badge.) My favorite episode in mythology is the story ofPrometheus. A long, long time ago there lived two brothers,Prometheus and Epimetheus. Prometheus, notcaring to live among the clouds on the mountain-top, went down into the world to see what he coulddo toward making it wiser and better. He found all mankind
. St. Nicholas [serial]. t hall. Where deep the streamlet runs through primrosedbanks,Where cold winds never blow nor gray cloudsfrown,We 11 nest together in the golden spring,And carol daily as lifes sun goes down. MY FAVORITE EPISODE IN MYTHOLOGY. BY MARY ELSIE NEWTON (AGE 13). {Gold Badge.) My favorite episode in mythology is the story ofPrometheus. A long, long time ago there lived two brothers,Prometheus and Epimetheus. Prometheus, notcaring to live among the clouds on the mountain-top, went down into the world to see what he coulddo toward making it wiser and better. He found all mankind in a very miserable condi-tion. They were living in caves, shivering with cold(for fire was an unknown thing to them) and dyingwith starvation. Immediately Prometheus went boldly to Jupiterand asked him for fire. However, Jupiter refusedthe request, and Prometheus turned sorrowfullyaway. As he was walking by the shore he noticed a saw that the hollow center was filled with a dry 1904•] ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE. 659. 31TTER COLD. BY H. W. H. POWEL, JR., AGE 16. (SILVER BADGE.) Ye made my walls of maple twigs — they seem by nature nest with downy feathers for the baby birds ye black the sky above us now — how white the drifting snow!I long for joyous summer and the gentle zephyrs low;But now t is just the moaning of the winter winds I hear;Oh, when will summer come to end this winter bleak and drear?Oh, how my heart is yearning for the birds which springtimebrings!How oft they d come, ere they were strong, to rest their tiredwings;But ye are gone, and I am but a wild birds empty nest,Swaying in the maples arms like a babe on mothers moaning winds of winter sing a mournful lullaby:1 Sleep, sleep, thou lonely birds nest, till the springtime drawethnigh. pith, which would burn slowly and keep on fire a longtime. He took the stalk to the dwelling of the Sun in thefar east, where he obtained a spark of fire. Then, hastening home, he showed th
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Keywords: ., bookauthordodgemar, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookyear1873
