JACK’S NIGHT OUT

Press, Volume LXXIV, Issue 22467, 30 July 1938, Page 4 (Supplement)

JACK’S NIGHT OUT

The moon and stars gleamed palely down, Down thro’ the nippy air, And nothing stirred, not e’en a leaf. For all the trees were bare. Jack Frost crept out in black and white, The ice froze on his hands, A shad'wy spectre as he went To chill and whiten lands. His pliant brush and magic paint Lavishly he spread, The mercury slid slowly down As people slept in bed. A black frown crossed his hoary brow As at the clouds he glanced. Vague thoughts of failure pained his head As down the streets he pranced. A playful breeze rose up and grew, Alas! for all his fears, “That wasted paint, those wasted hours,” He thought; and melted into tears. —JUDY HANNA. Fendalton.

FLUTTERING

The snow falls last, Winter’s here at last. It falls so thick upon the ground, You may hear its fluttering sound. —RUTH DICKIE, A. 8., Glentunnel.

WINTER’S FOE

I . think winter’s foes are long woolly stockings, scarves, mufflers,

gloves, hot-water bottles, and warm, bright tires. I am sure Jack Frost dislikes all those things: —JOYCE McLOUGHLIN, Dunsandel,

HE KNOWS!

Jack Frost is a spritely elf, Who knows well how to enjoy himself,

With a great whoop and a ga- call, He is about on every wall. —KATHLEEN McALEER (aged 9), Morven.

CLEAR AND WHITE

This morning the Southern Alps looked beautiful; they stood out clear and white against a blue background. I always think the Southern Alps look best' on frosty mornings, with their coat of glistening snow. —JOYCE McLOUGHUN, Dunsande],