COMPENSATION.

Yes, it's an ill-wind that blows nobody good,

Discomfort could hardly be greater,

For home-staying fogies of mollyish mood,

But think of the joy of the Skater!

Gr-r-r-r-! Nose-nipped antiquity squirms in the street,

When the North-Easter sounds its fierce slogan;

But oh, the warm flush and the ecstasy fleet

Of the fellow who rides a toboggan!

FISH SMART's on the job in the ice-covered fens,

And at Hampstead and Highgate they're "sleighing."

There is plenty of stuff for pictorial pens,

And boyhood at snowballs is playing.

To sit by the fire and to grumble and croak

At "young fools," I presume is improper,

Yet (chuckle!) the Skater sometimes has a "soak,"

The Sleigher sometimes comes a cropper! [Left sniggering.