mespun stuff could quite shut out,
A hard, dull bitterness of cold,
That checked, mid-vein, the circling race
Of life blood in the sharpened face,
The coming of the snowstorm told."
--_John Greenleaf Whittier_
[End illustration]

{59}

winter play sleep

cold frozen covers

under lake fort

It is winter.

Summer and autumn have gone.

The air is cold.

The robins and the bluebirds have gone.

The snow falls from the sky.

The snow covers the hills and the woods and the fields.

The flowers sleep under the snow in my garden.

They will wake when it is spring.

{60}

The lake is frozen.

I see the white snow in my garden.

I love to play in the snow.

I will make a fort of the white snow in my garden.

I love the cold winter days.

God gives us the winter days as well as the summer days.

"He giveth snow like wool;
He scattereth the hoar-frost like ashes."--_Psalms 147:16_.

{61}{62}

[Illustration]
THE SEA

"Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play,
Time writes no wrinkles on thine azure brow--
Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now."
--_Lord Byron_
[End illustration]

{63}

Harold beach man

sea-shore dug owns

went sand sailing

ships

Harold went to the sea-shore.

He went with his father and his mother.

It was summer when he went.

The days were long and bright.

He played all day on the beach.

He dug in the sand.

He made hills in the sand.

When he went to bed at night, he heard the sea.

{64}

He said his prayer beside his mother,
and the sea sang him to sleep with its song.

He saw the sea when the sun rose in the morning.

The sun rose above the sea, when the
night was gone, and the stars went to sleep.

In the bright morning, he saw the ships sailing on the sea.

No man owns the sea.

God made it, and it is his.

"The sea is his, and he made it."--_Psalms 95:5_.

{65}{66}

[Illustration]
THE MOUNTAINS

"You should have seen that long hill-range
With gaps of brightness riven,
How through each pass and hollow streamed
The purpling lights of heaven,--

"Rivers of gold-mist flowing down
From far celestial fountains,--
The great sun flaming through the rifts
Beyond the wall of mountains."
--_John Greenleaf Whittier_
[End illustrat