“You ought to do it,” said Billy. “I hope they don’t object.”
“They do, though. People often object to things that are good for them, like going to bed early, and washing their hands and geography.”
“Oh, I love geography now,” protested Billy.
“Oh, I’m delighted to hear it. Do you like songs?”
“Yes, indeed. The Equine Ox knows a beautiful one about the Equator.”
“I cannot imagine a beautiful song about the Equator,” said Jack Frost. “See what you think of mine.” And seating himself on the edge of the cliff they had been skirting, with his heels hanging over space, he sang:
THE SONG OF JACK FROST
“In the brown October,
When the bonfires burn,
When reluctant robins