A QUEER IDEA.
One of Mrs. Allen's bay windows stood open. Between the ivies, tuberoses, and lilies, you caught a glimpse of gilded walls and rare paintings. Better than all, you saw four young faces looking out at a snow-storm; Dotty with eyes like living diamonds, Prudy fair and sweet, Horace lordly and wise; and the little one "with dove's eyes" following every motion of his head, as if she were a sunflower, and he the sun.
"Please shut the window, quick, Horace; the plants will freeze," said Prudy, drawing in her powdered head.
"Things don't freeze in cloudy weather, Prue; but you children will catch cold; so here goes."
"O, Hollis, don't those snow-specks look like little bits o' birdies, athout any wings or any feathers, too?"
"Droll birds they would be," said Aunt Madge. "That reminds me of an old riddle, children,—
"'White bird featherless
Flew out of Paradise,
Lit on the castle wall;
Came a knight breathless,
Ate it up toothless,
Rode away horseless.'"
"Why, auntie, the 'bird featherless' must have been the snow; but who was the knight!"
"Who rides over the sky without any horse, Dotty, and melts snow by shining on it?"
"O, the sun—the sun!"