“Hush! listen; she’s beginning,” adjured Olive, as a rainbowed voice, arching a little cloud of girlish embarrassment, fell upon the firelight:
“When the Moon of Thunder causeth
School to cease and fields to blossom,
Sendeth forth its quivering light-bolt,
Heats the earth with dazzling sun-ray,
Come the children to the Playground,
Come the merry-hearted children,
Group round swing and teeter-ladder,
Dance their strange and quaint folk-dances
Underneath the flowering shade-tree,