Читать книгу Cinderella; Or, The Little Glass Slipper, and Other Stories - Unknown - Страница 3

     “We’re so tired of these gray dresses!”

      Cried the little drops of rain,

     As they came down helter-skelter

     From the Nimbus cloud fast train.

     And they bobbed against each other

     In a spiteful sort of way,

     Just like children when bad temper

     Gets the upper hand some day.

     Then the Sun peeped out a minute.

     “Dears, be good and do not fight,

     I have ordered you new dresses,

     Dainty robes of purest white.”

     Ah! then all the tiny raindrops

     Hummed a merry glad refrain,

     And the old folks cried: “How pleasant

     Is the music of the rain!”

     Just at even, when the children

     Had been safely tucked in bed,

     There was such a rush and bustle

     In the dark clouds overhead!

     Then those raindrops hurried earthward,

     At the North Wind’s call, you know,

     And the wee folks, in the morning,

     Laughed to see the flakes of snow.