A WINTER ODE. 273
��A WINTEB ODE.
��BY WILL E. WALKER.
One wintry day in '78,
A youth, with flaming zeal elate,
From Massachusetts northward came
To gain immortal name and fame.
He heard Old Proh., the prophet, say
That dreadful weather, right away,
Would bring distress to cheek and nose,
Dismaying hearts and freezing toes.
And mostly of New Hampshire folk
This learned man in sorrow spoke ;
Those people would be frozen through,
And what was coming not one knew.
Oh, then uprose this noble youth
And said : " I'll bear the dreadful truth
To those thus doomed to bitter loss,
Nor stop until e'en far Coos
Has heard my warning note of woe,
And all to winter quarters go."
Oh, there was hurrying far and near,
As panic-struck with sudden fear
Tbe people heard his warning cry,
And saw his coat-tails onward fly.
But he had calculated wrong
About the tough old folk that throng
This Granite State, for they had dwelt
In colder air than he e'er felt.
So, ere one-half his race was run,
His teeth out-chatterd, one by one,
His voice grew faint, his nose grew cold,
And downward sank his spirits bold ;
But on he pressed, until at last
His Rubicon was nearly passed,
When there appeared a shocking sight,
That filled this toothless, speechless wight
With freezing fear, and rendered him
All statue-like in face'and limb ;
For spirits tell our anxious hero
That here 'tis fifty below zero.
That finished him, and there he stands,
A warning to all other lands
Which think to scare our honest folk
With any below zero joke.
�� �
