Crisp and hard lay the snow beneath,
The frosty air made young blood tingle.
As we glided over the polished road
To the sleigh-bells' merriest jingle.
We were warmly wrapped to our chins in rugs,
Fur-proof against winter's biting weather,
There was room in the sleigh for only two,
But—three of us sleighed together.
The moon from the clear, cold sky above
Flooded the snow with a golden glory,
And I whispered—for how could I refrain?—
The old, old, world-famous story.
Must have seemed quite a crowd, you say,
With three in the sleigh? Well you are stupid!
Three's a pleastanter company far, than two,
When the person who crowds you is Cupid!
Vassar Miscellany.
~On Bills.~
At the first of the month I grow morbid and sad;
As I gaze on that pile I believe
In the saying that never was potent before—
"'Tis more blessed to give than receive."
Lehigh Burr.
~A Senior's Plea.~
"Dear Father: Once you said, 'My son,
To manhood you have grown;
Make others trust you, trust yourself,
And learn to stand alone!'