FABLES FROM THE FARM-YARD.

BY MONA B. BICKERSTAFFE,

Author of 'The White Roe of Glenmere,' 'Down among the Waterweeds,' 'The Sunbeam's Story,' etc. etc.

THE FIRST SNOW, AND WHAT CAME OF IT.

T was the first day of winter. The season had been so unusually mild, that the oaks and willows were still well clothed with leaves, and looked so pretty in their autumn dresses of golden brown and yellow green, that poor old November could not bear the thoughts of leaving them, so he wept himself away in torrents of rain. Yes, he wept and sighed, and the rain poured down, until just before sunset; and then, if you had looked up at the darkening sky, you would have seen, far away to northward, the chariot of the old Snow King, like a mass of great white clouds, as it stood waiting for the storm-steeds to carry it down from the poles on a journey over the earth. Soon the horses were tackled, little Jack Frost jumped up behind (for he knew that the Snow King could not get on without him); then away they went on the winds, dashing through the realms of air, puffing and blowing, snorting and roaring, and committing sad havoc as they flew along, shaking the fleece off their white coats, tearing the down out of the snow chariot, and scattering it over the earth.

Ha! ha! ha! laughed old King Snow, 'Here goes more fleece, more fleece. Blow away, good steeds, I have plenty more to spare. We must have all that country below nice and white for my jolly good friend Father Christmas, and old Time's son, the Happy New Year.'

'What a fussy old fellow you are!' muttered Master Jack Frost; 'you are working yourself all out of breath. There, you have done enough now; so send the stormsteeds home, and lie down to rest on the top of yonder hill, while I go and finish up yon great snow mantle; for November has shed so many parting tears, that if I do not work very sharply, all you have done will soon be washed away.'

'What a bright lad it is!' murmured the old Snow King, as from the top of a mountain he watched Jack Frost working away quietly but surely, breathing upon the snow until it became quite close and hard, sealing up the ponds and lakes, stopping the rivers, checking the laughter of the merry little brooks, meeting the torrent as it foamed down the mountain gorge, and catching it in an icy grasp. Bravo! Jack Frost, bravo! See, the trees are all decked with jewels, the fern leaves are covered with frosted silver! What a sharp lad you are, to be sure! But now,' said the Snow King, 'I perceive the sun is rising, and has painted my chariot a fiery red; so I must up and travel on. We have a great deal to do

at this time of the year.'

'Annie! Annie! get up, get up; the country all round is white with snow, and the men say it lies some feet deep at the sides of the lane.'

'I am up, Charlie; but my fingers are so cold, I can scarcely do anything. Oh, I wish the snow had never come!'

Annie was not so strong as Charlie, so she crept down stairs, shivering and shaking all the while, and seemed to care for nothing but the fireside; while he would scarcely give himself time to eat his breakfast, so anxious was he to go out to enjoy his first game of snowballs. By and by he came in again, flushed and rosy, to tell his sister of all the fun he had. 'Oh, Annie,' said he, 'it is so jolly! I have been having a regular snow battle; and now I am going to make a great

snow man in the very middle of the grass plot. I think I'll run down to the mill to ask them to come up and help us.'

To help you!' said Annie. 'I shan't go out to-day. I can't bear the sight of the snow. How I wish it had never come! I had collected such a quantity of beautiful green moss; and Lucy and I had intended to build a moss house with it. Now we can't do anything. Lucy won't help you with your snow man, I know, for she hates the cold as much as I do.'

'Perhaps she does,' said Charlie; but she is never so cross about it, as you are. Now, what's the use of fretting when a thing can't be helped ?' and Charlie, annoyed by Annie's peevishness, went off to find some one more inclined to sympathize with him in the delights of snowballing and snow-man-making.

Now, I must tell you that Annie was not the only being at the Holly-tree Farm' whose pleasures were marred by the work of sharp Jack Frost and the old Snow King. The cows, as they came out of the cowhouses, mo-o-ed and bo-o-ed in low, melancholy tones. Strawberry's limbs seemed to have grown suddenly stiff, she moved along so lazily; and as for Zetty, the calf, he held back his head, and snuffed up the frosty air in imitation of his elders, but evidently could not make up his mind about this new state of things; so, not knowing what to do, he kicked up his heels, and capered about the yard; then, seeing some clothes hanging out on a line in the field close by, he refreshed himself by quietly eating the greater part of a deep bordered cap! Mischievous Zetty! he was caught in the fact by Kitty the dairy-maid; and as the cap was hers, you may be sure she gave him a very good beating. Well, the fowls were, as usual, let out of the fowl-house, and very miserable they looked; but the ducks and geese, seeing the foldyard gates open, slipped off down the lane to enjoy a swim in the pond.

Alas! poor creatures, they were doomed to be disap

pointed, for the pond was covered with hard, hard ice, upon which they could make no impression. It was in vain that they tapped it with their beaks, and stamped upon it with their legs, their webbed feet slid from under them, so they had to make for the bank again; and being all of them under a year old, they could not make out what had happened. Presently one of the men from the farm broke a hole in the ice, so that they might drink; but this did not content them, for they wanted a swim to refresh them after the night; and not being able to have it, they quacked and cackled a chorus of lamentations; then, not knowing what else to do, they turned upon each other, and began to make sundry very personal and not at all complimentary remarks.

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'I declare,' said the head of the party, a very pert young drake, this state of things is extremely annoying. It is too bad to be deprived of our morning bath in such a sudden and unexpected manner. My toilet feels quite disarranged; and yet I can see that my dress is as handsome as ever. I wish I could say as much for yours, Miss Goose.'

Indeed!' said Miss Goose, bridling up; 'pray what is the matter with mine?'

'Well,' replied Mr. Drake, as he smoothed his glossy green waistcoat, 'I scarcely like to tell you the truth; but your white dress does look so dirty and miserable, I should hardly have recognised you but for your voice.'

'Dirty! miserable!' exclaimed Miss Goose in a rage; 'it is your vanity and foppish conceit that makes you say so.'

Mr. Drake bowed his head provokingly. I beg your pardon,' said he; but unfortunately my tastes are so very fastidious, that I cannot help noticing when ladies are badly dressed. Some of my relatives, too, who wear white, look so wretched, they are scarcely fit to be seen.'

Scarcely fit to be seen!' exclaimed all the ducks,