There isn't much more to tell of Que as a mail-boy. The end of the year found him the possessor of forty-five dollars and five shillings.
The next year the Point afforded a horse, and Que took the mail on the horse's back; the year following they had a horse and wagon, and Que drove that; when they have a railway I have no doubt Que will be a conductor; and when the mail is blown through a tunnel, Que, of course, will blow it.
Even the second snag, you see, needn't lay you a dead weight on the earth.
The clock's loud tick Says, "Time flies quick." "Listen," says the chime; "Make the most of time, For remember, young and old, Minutes are like grains of gold; Spend them wisely, spend them well, For their worth can no man tell."
Old Winter comes forth in his robe of white, He sends the sweet flowers far out of sight, He robs the trees of their green leaves quite, And freezes the pond and the river; He has spoiled the butterfly's pretty nest, And ordered the birds not to build their nest, And banished the frog to a four months' rest, And makes all the children shiver.
Yet he does some good with his icy tread, For he keeps the corn-seeds warm in their bed, He dries up the damp which the rain had spread, And renders the air more healthy; He taught the boys to slide, and he flung Rich Christmas gifts o'er the old and young, And when cries for food from the poor were wrung, He opened the purse of the wealthy.
We like the Spring with its fine fresh air; We like the Summer with flowers so fair; We like the fruits we in Autumn share, And we like, too, old Winter's greeting: His touch is cold, but his heart is warm; So, though he brings to us snow and storm, We look with a smile on his well-known form, And ours is a gladsome meeting.
Will had had the croup. Then the measles took possession of him, and lastly, the whooping-cough, finding him well swept and garnished, entered in, and shook and throttled him in a manner quite deplorable.
His convalescence, however, was relieved of its monotony by a headlong fall from a step ladder in the library, whereby he sprained his wrist, to say nothing of the mischief that he made, in his descent, amid the ink, books, and papers.
Treading on a pin in the sewing-room was another diversion in his favor, giving him, for a while, a daily looking forward to bandages and poultices, and an opportunity to weigh the advantages of obedience in case he should ever again wish, and be forbidden, to jump out of bed and run barefoot amid the dressmaker's shreds in search of his top.