"Recollect, hereafter," said the successful Stork to the poor Crane, who stood dejectedly to one side, "not to scorn and undervalue qualities in any one, because they are not flaunted in the eyes of the world."
The Crane's adherents maintained that it was a foul start, while the Stork's friends answered that when two birds ran a race, it could not well be anything else.
The frogs, the mice, and most of the small birds, were divided among the successful betters; and, altogether, it was a day of rejoicing, except to the frogs, the mice, and most of the small birds.
WINTER FIRE-FLIES.
By Mrs. W. N. Clarke.
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One by one appearing In their lower sky, Come a host uncounted Like the stars on high, Flashing lights uncertain, Ever changing place,— Tricksy constellations That we cannot trace! Throbbing through the elm-tree Little heart of fire!— One in lonely longing Rises ever higher; Flits across the darkness, Like a shooting star, While the changeless heavens Calmly shine afar. When the flames are lighting All the chimney dark, When the green wood hisses, And the birchen bark In the blaze doth redden, Glow and snap and curl, Fire-flies, freed from prison, Merrily dance and whirl. Children on the hearth-stone, Peering up the flue, See a mimic welkin, Lights that twinkle through, Sparks that flash and flicker, Little short-lived stars, On the sooty darkness Glowing red as Mars! Eager eyes a-watching Fain would have them pause. Catch these fire-flies—can you?— In a web of gauze! Ever upward flying Toward the chimney's crown— Up to meet the snow-flakes As they flutter down! |