Sorosis . milk-man is makingHis usual round. His horse trots so gaily,So merrys his song,Tis a pleasure to watch himAs he rides along. The milk cans shine brightly,And glisten and seemTo reflect his good nature,Each one, with its gleam. More clatter of hoof-beats;His whistle floats on;The street becomes silent,Our milk-man has gone. To the days hurried bustleHis bright face has lentA lesson of greatnessIn happy content. Minerva Hamilton, 11. 20 THE SOROSIS THE SNOW-STORM. Have you ever watched the snowfall on a winter afternoon And pictured to yourself the funwhich must be coming soon? And you
Sorosis . milk-man is makingHis usual round. His horse trots so gaily,So merrys his song,Tis a pleasure to watch himAs he rides along. The milk cans shine brightly,And glisten and seemTo reflect his good nature,Each one, with its gleam. More clatter of hoof-beats;His whistle floats on;The street becomes silent,Our milk-man has gone. To the days hurried bustleHis bright face has lentA lesson of greatnessIn happy content. Minerva Hamilton, 11. 20 THE SOROSIS THE SNOW-STORM. Have you ever watched the snowfall on a winter afternoon And pictured to yourself the funwhich must be coming soon? And your heart beat with rejoicing,and your eye beamed withdelight As you thought of coasting downthe hill on a moonlight win-ter night? Then youve also watched the snowmelt on another afternoon And pictured to yourself the slushwhich must be coming soon! And your heart sank with the bur-den, and you trembled—wellyou might! As you thought of all those collegesteps on a slushy winternight. Florence K. Wilson, THE SOROSIS 21
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