went to sleep.

Most of the boys were looking out of the window, because they liked to
watch it snow.

It had been snowing hard all day and they were thinking of the
snowballs they would make, and of the snow forts that they would build
on the hill.

How could they study when they were thinking of all those things?

"Miss Smith," said Bo-peep, looking up from her work, "won't you please
tell us a story? It is getting so dark that I cannot see to write."

Miss Smith thought a minute and then said, "How would you like to play
at being a book?"

Every little face brightened. The boys looked at Miss Smith and forgot
about the snow forts.

Mary sat up and did not feel one bit sleepy.

"Why, Miss Smith," said Mary, "how can we be a book?"

"I will show you," said Miss Smith.

"We will play that we are the Mother Goose Book.

"You must each think of some child from Mother Goose land whom you
would like to be.

"Then each one can come to the front of the room and play at being that
little child.

"The rest of us will try to guess who the child is."

The children all thought that would be great fun, and for a few minutes
it was so quiet they could almost hear the snow falling.

At the end of five minutes Miss Smith said, "Now it is time to begin.
You may be on the first page in our book, Jack.

"You may use anything in the room you need to help you in acting your
part."

Jack went into the hall. In a minute he pushed the door open a little
way and looked in.

Then he came into the school-room. He had his books under his arm, and
as he came in very slowly he looked at the clock.

"Oh, I know!" said John. "Hickory, dickory, dock."

[Illustration: "She looked so funny as she came into the room
riding on a broom"]

"No, no," said Mary, "that is:--

'A dillar, a dollar,
A ten o'clock scholar,
What makes you come so soon?
You used to come at ten o'clock,
And now you come at noon.'"

"That is right," said Jack. "Mary guessed it."

Then it was Mary's turn to be a page in the Mother Goose Book.

When she came in she had on Miss Smith's long white apron, her hair was
done up high on her head, and she was riding on a broom.

She looked so funny that all the children laughed.

At last Edith stopped laughing and began to sing:

"Old woman, old woman,
Old woman, said I.
Oh whither, oh whither,
Oh whither so high?
To sweep the cobwebs out of the sky;
But I'll be back again by-and-