They were the magnets of those winter nights;
No storm or cold them e’er obliterated.
When those glad nights came, countless faces beamed
In country school houses where bright lights gleamed.
Altho ’twas long ago, still I recall
The happy crowds within those temples wee;
And marvel how they could contain them all;
But they were all on hand, and so were we.
In an old adage you know it is told:
“Many gentle sheep go in a small fold.”