* * * * * Mamma sits by the fire Her little ones round her knees. "How cosy we are, Mamma," they cry, "Tell us something, if you please." [Illustration] [Illustration] "Tell us about King Winter, And about Jack Frost, his man; We'll not be noisy or naughty at all, But as good as ever we can." * * * * * "Well then;" says mamma, "you, Jenny, May knit and listen, my dear; And Johnny may split up wood, to make The fire burn bright and clear." [Illustration] [Illustration] King Winter dwells in the North; Far away in the Frozen Zone, In a palace of snow he holds his court, And sits on an icy throne. * * * * * He has cushions of course: his Queen Made them out of her wedding gown. Stuffing them well with snowflakes fine, And soft as eiderdown. [Illustration] [Illustration] The King has a trusty servant, Jack Frost is his name; his nose Is raspberry red, his beard is white, And stiff as a crutch it grows. * * * * *