By J.D.  MOORE.

(The children should wear some indication of the several characters they impersonate.  Most elaborate and beautiful costumes might be used, but the simple device of a placard upon each child’s breast bearing the name of his part will answer the purpose.)

Wind:  I come from the cold and stormy North,
With a rush and a roar I hurry forth,
I toss from the trees the dead leaves down,
The withered leaves all sere and brown,
And sway the branches to and fro
As on my way I whirling go. 
At crack and crevice I slip in,
And make a lively sounding din. 
Swift I come and swift away,
With you I can no longer stay,
For I am wanted elsewhere now,
And so good-bye, I make my bow.

Frost (taking Wind’s hand): 
Hand in hand we ever go
Through the season to and fro. 
I breathe upon the streams.  They cease
Their murmurings and are at peace. 
Upon each window pane I trace
The finest filmy glistening lace. 
Each boy and girl, ’tis plain to see,
Hath still a welcome kind for me. 
For on the lake they whirl and wheel,
You hear the click of polished steel
As swift upon their skates they fly
With joyous heart and flashing eye. 
My breath blows cold.  Health, joy, delight,
Follow my silvery sparkles bright. 
Now Snow, who is my guardian sweet,
Will all my young friends fondly greet.

Snow (a little girl): 
Over the earth so bare and brown
I spread a robe as soft as down. 
Drifting, drifting down through space,
Hiding each unsightly place,
Touched to shimmering radiance bright,
In the moonbeam’s mellow light,
By my brother Frost, for we (they join hands)
Both go hand in hand, you see. 
North Wind goes gaily with us both,
To help us he is nothing loath. 
And he and Frost and Rain combine
To give what in the clear sunshine
Shimmers sparkling—­pure and nice,
Transparent, white, and glistening Ice.

Ice:  I cling to lofty gables, I rustle ’mid the snow,
I weave a gleaming covering
For lakes and streams.  They know
That all must cease their murmuring
When Frost and I appear,
For we will hold them firm and fast
As long as we are here. 
Gleaming, glistening, sparkling,
Yet pure and clear and bright. 
You’ll find me ’neath a silver moon,
Each crisp, fresh winter night.

(Enter Old Winter)

Winter:  What, ho! my children, here I am,
I’ve sought you everywhere. 
And now to busy work away,
For you must all prepare
To do your duty while I hold
In check your enemy,
The great round sun, whose rays with you. 
My children, disagree. 
Now up, away!  Wind, to the west
And come again in glee;
And join with Frost and Snow and Ice,
In one grand jubilee. 
And paint the cheeks with roses
Of all these children who,
Right joyously will run and shout,
My children dear, with you. 
Away! to work, you must not shirk
Your duties, dears; and now,
To these, your firmest friends, make each
Your most engaging bow.