A Winter Wail

Frnm the mom tliat chili November t.'ietiLs us with a jji-utle shake, 1'ill Uie i've tliul siuh.ii April Tiiirfullv her leaves doih take, I)i v and night nilhout cesnatlon, TrVnli swlft, remorseless flow. Anlbracita iuto the furuace AJ ilic hunting stove ilotli po. With Inatlatc mans extended Ytiwn those (lt!Hinous of depftlr, i-.t niï rum wlch inost deroutlr He could climbthe eolden stalr; no8c)oner comes the season Of relief from lee meus bilis Then the coal mau wlth his clamor I'ull Í grief his bosom filis. Oh, for fields of vernal veril ure In some eeml-troplc cltme, Whera the thermometers are trangers Aml the mi shlnes all the time; Where soft breezes, odor-laden, Shed ihelr fraraoce on tbe air. And such thiiigs as stove and coal lires Never brin a moment's care.