North Wind had a cave in the mountain.

The walls were of ice.

North Wind lived in it.

One day he came out of his cave.
He flew down the mountain side.
Some people were out walking.
North Wind saw them.

"I will have some fun," said he.
He tried to blow their coats away.
He tried to blow their hats away.
He made them shiver.

"Now I will go to the tree," said he. "Perhaps I will blow the tree over. How will the tree like that?"

But the tree was very strong.

The wind made it shiver.

The wind made it shake.

But he could not blow it over.

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Oooo," said the wind.

"I will go and see what the Little Brook

is doing.

I will make him shiver, too."

The Little Brook heard what North Wind said.

"I will make a house," said Little Brook.

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"I will make it to-night.

My roof shall be of ice.

I will make pictures on the ice."

He made pictures of fern and grasses.

He made pictures of birds and flowers. Jack Frost helped him.

Jack Frost likes to make pictures.

In one place he made no pictures.
He left it smooth and clear.
That was his window.

The sun could shine through it.
The stars could shine through it.
The stars gave him light.

There were icicles in his house.

Little Brook played that they were trees.

There were some grasses in it, too.

Drops of water were frozen on the

grasses.

How they did sparkle!

They were the Little Brook's lamps.

Soon morning came.

Oooo," said the wind.

"Where are you, Little Brook? I want to make you shiver."

The Little Brook was safe in his house. North Wind could not find him.

Little Brook stayed in his house all winter.

He did not care for North Wind.

See if you can find his house this winter.

!

THE LITTLE BROOK.

The little brook heard it, and built a roof
'Neath which he could house him, winter-proof;
All night by the white stars' frosty gleams
He groined his arches and matched his beams;
Slender and clear were his crystal spars
As the lashes of light that trim the stars.
Sometimes the roof no fretwork knew
But silvery mosses that downward grew;
Sometimes it was simply smooth and clear
For the gladness of heaven to shine through,
And here he had caught the nodding bulrush-tops
And hung them thickly with diamond drops.

-The Vision of Sir Launfal (Lowell).