The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1895-09-11
The New Years Third Child.


YEARS. third child was little March?
The first child of the New Year was
January; the next, February; and the
third-lively, boisterous little March.
When the New Year sent March to
US this year, March was given his usual
big bag of wind. With this wind little
March does all the work there is to be
done for the New Year. There is al.
ways so much work for March that the
year gives him thirty-one days to
work in.
When March first came to us this
year, he played while with his brother
February, who did not seem in a great
hurry to leave US. The time slipped
away, until, one morning, little March
was very much surprised to find that
week of his time had gone and he still
had all his work to do.
Little Master March now started out
very briskly, skipping over hill and
dale, feeling very happy, and, oh, so
full of businessl The first thing he
came to was Miller Whites windmill,
on the top of hill. The sails were
turning round very lazily. "Oh, obi"
said little March, "this will never do"
So he blew into the sails, making them
whirl merrily round and round. The
machinery inside now worked twice as
fast. The miller smiled at his work as
he saw the corn quickly being ground
into meal, and the wheat being made
into flour.
Little March laughed heartily, and
looked up to the sky for sympathy; but
dark, frowning cloud had covered up
the blue, and there was no sunshine to
greet him. "Phew" whistled little
March, thoughtfully. Then he whirled
himself high in the air, scattering the
frowning cloud and clearing the blue
sky with his windy laughter.
March now looked around to see
what should be his next work. Off in
the distance he saw great, high hills, so
high that we would call them noun
tains. He could see that their tops
were capped with something white. He
hurried towards these mountains, pour
ing out his wind in every direction. AS
he drew near, he could see that the
something white was Old Winter sit
ting there on the mountain peaks.
Ho! hol" called little March as he
approached. What are you still here,
my old friend? It's time you were
Fastening back to your home in the
North. What do you suppose the ice
bergs and polar bears and Eskimos are
doing without you so long? You seem
to hate to CO." said little March; for he
could see that the tears started in the
old mans eyes as he spoke. eyes,
do hate to leave my work down here"
said the old man. "The children have
seemed to enjoy me 80 much this year.
They have had skating, sleighing, and
snowballing. And when it was too
cold or stormy to 60 out, they have
watched my snowflakes fall outside,
and were so busy and happy over their
books and games" ooh, but don't
you know they long for the spring, too?'
said March. "They are watching for
the soft, warm breezes and the birds
and for all the sleeping flowers to re-
turn"
"To be sure" said the old man. 81
had almost forgotten about that. l can
come again; l will be sure to return
next year." And so saying, the old
man skipped away down the mountain
side and disappeared.
Little Master March now hurried
over the mountains, on and on, to the
glimmering, sparkling ocean. His time
was growing short, and there was still
much work to be done. When he
reached the shore, he spent some min
utes playing with his old comrades, the
waves. He ran way out with them,
then rolled them up, up on to the shore
with loud Numbering noise, dashing
them, and splashing them in every di-
rection.
[ am the hardy March wind. no! hol
Nothing's too strong for me to blow, blow
blow,
he sang, as he hurried out to sea, where
something white, looking like a tiny
white fairy's veil, was dancing an6
bounding over the waters in the sun
shine. 1t was sailing vessel. Master
March pulled with all his nigh
into the sails, filling them so full o.
wind that the sailors on board had t
shout, " Haul in the sailsl" Then how
swiftly and easily the boat scudde(
through the briny waves, leaving {
white foaming track behindl
BY this time the bag of wind which
March had carried was about empty
and March began to think of the las
task which he was to do for the year
He grew quieter and more gentle as h,
thought oft. What do you suppose h.
thought of? Why, of all the baby flow
ers and plants asleep under their blank
, cts of leaves and twigs in the wood
and fields, and of how he was to wax
them up. He blew gentler breath a
| he swept away the blanket of twigs
moses, and leaves from the little sleep
ing things. 81 must make room TO
them before they begin to STIR" Marc
L said; "lhey won't need this blanke
3 again this year" he thought, as he re
!; membered Old Winters good by.
q Now little March sang his wakin
l song to the baby crocuses first of al
a They stirred and lifted up their yelo'
: heads, half in doubt, but the littl
March brea,hed gently lest they shout
|. SILVER and creep back into the war;
brown mold again. Then he wake