The Queen cuts twigs of birch,
Of birch so supple and keen,
And daintily ties them up into rods
The finest that ever were seen.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

Soon with this word to the King
Jack Frost comes back at a trot: 
“Good have most of the children been,
But some of them have not.”

* * * * *

The King gives him the pretty trees,
The Queen the rods so smart,
And away goes Jack again with his load,
Till every house has its part.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

Cakes, mince-pies nuts and apples,
Good children get from the King. 
You can guess what the naughty get,
The rods are the only thing.

* * * * *

“Oh dear mamma,” cries Jenny,
“Johnny’s been good, and so have I! 
Pray tell Jack Frost we don’t want the rod,
Oh! do ask him to put it by.”

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

Mamma smiles on her darlings,
They run to her, kiss her, and say: 
“How long do you think will it be, Mamma,
Ere King Winter goes away?”

* * * * *

“He will lay upon Baby’s cradle
The snowdrops that early come forth;
And then, my dears, he will bid us good bye
And go back to his home in the North.”

[Illustration]