. St. Nicholas [serial] . e engine-house, which was not faroff. He had three firemen come up with a ladder and 1046 ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE. [Sept. get me out. I put on my stockings and wrapper, but Iwas very sleepy, as it was getting late. The firemen put the ladder up to my window. Thenone of the men came up and opened the window, andtook me in his left arm and said, Dont be afraid,little girl. Then he went down very fast and carried me insidethe house again. He went up once more to see if he could unlock thedoor from the inside. He unlocked it without any trouble. Then I went back to bed and we
. St. Nicholas [serial] . e engine-house, which was not faroff. He had three firemen come up with a ladder and 1046 ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE. [Sept. get me out. I put on my stockings and wrapper, but Iwas very sleepy, as it was getting late. The firemen put the ladder up to my window. Thenone of the men came up and opened the window, andtook me in his left arm and said, Dont be afraid,little girl. Then he went down very fast and carried me insidethe house again. He went up once more to see if he could unlock thedoor from the inside. He unlocked it without any trouble. Then I went back to bed and went to sleep, for it wasnearly ten oclock and I was very sleepy. Harsh winter soon will menace us with gloom,And still the madrigal of brook and stream. Rejoice in summer, for, on cold, dark days,Its memory gives you wherewithal to dream! A SUMMER DAY. BY MARY YENLA WESCOTT (AGE 15).{Honor Member.) The sun that s shone the whole day long; Has hidden from our dark clouds gather overhead Now that t is almost A WASTING FALLS (MINN.). BY H. ERNEST BELL, AGE 13. SUMMER DREAMS. BY MARGARET STUART BROWNE (AGE 15).{Honor A/ember.) Now gold-haired summer, crowned with poppies red,Draws the slow sun across the radiant sky Till, smiling, in the west he sinks to sleep,Lulled by the waking owls long, fretful cry. Now are the dusty shadows long and slim Upon the lawn, where chestnut spikes of snow Shower fragrant flakes upon the dewy grassTo kiss the timid daisty-buds below. It is a time of dream and distant song, A time when winds but sigh, and wavelets croon, Of long, sweet days and music-haunted nights Whose star-spun veils half hide the slender moon. Dream, by the spell of sea and sky bewitched ; Forget the gray, sad world of ceaseless pain ;And if, by chance, you should to care awake, Return to daisy drifts and dream again! Down in the woods the wild flowers smallHave closed each wondering eye, And little drops are tumbling fastFrom out the summer sky. Oh, quicker now t
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Keywords: ., bookauthordodgemar, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookyear1873
