THE FIRST SNOW STORM

Evening Star, Issue 22721, 7 August 1937, Page 8

THE FIRST SNOW STORM

lu a shabby little house on One Tree Common lived a beetle, called Montgomery.’ “ Shabby, yes, very shabby,” he sighed sadly. Oh! that I were richer.” it was quite true, his one-roomed house was shabby. His rug, which at one time was his proudest possession, was now old and threadbare, his broom has only six hairs left out of thirtysix, his. night-cnp had lost its glossy shine, and his slippers were full of holes. He sighed again, and blowing out his candle jumped into bed. He was so worried that he spent a wakeful night, and when at last asleep he tossed and turned feverishly. Awakening in the morning, he blinked and gazed about him. “ H’m,” he said, “ nothing’s missing, but it’s frightfully dark.” Montgomery jumped out of bed and pulled the blinds, but a blank wall

confronted him. Ho was snowed up! How very cold and miserable it was. “ Goodness,” said he, gloomily, “ it must be the snow that one hears of eternally.” His teeth chattering with cold and right, he sat down to breakfast, finishing up half the food in the house. He waited for something to happen, but, of course, nothing did, and, being an impatient beetle, he was soon downcast. “ I know,” he suddenly exclaimed. “ Hoist a danger signal. Brains, 1 have many,” and his chest swelled with pride, and he patted himself on the back. After sitting for a few minutes deep in thought, he said approvingly, “ Red means danger. Why, my red rug is just the thing.”

Then fetching the broomstick after much difficulty he managed to tie the red rug to the end of it. He then Eoked it up the chimney. Half an our passed, and then, as he decided it was lunch time, he set the table and finished up every morsel of food. About tea time Montgomery, feeling drowsy and hungry, went to bed. When he heard, “ Tap, tap, tap,” rousing himself he shouted “ Come in.” But the tapping went on, and so he got out of bed. Peering up the chimney, he made out Timothy Thrush looking for his breakfast. Quickly Montgomery hauled down the danger signal. “ I’m not going to be his supper,” he said. He lit the fire, which crackled merrily, and melted the snow quite a lot. Timothy, hating smoke, spluttered,