uth
binds on his skates and gracefully flies over the frozen pool.

Who is this stranger? He is the first-born of his family, and his name
is JANUARY.

* * * * *

A grave and placid maiden now advances. The crocus and the snow-drop
adorn her brown garments, a wreath of primroses binds her brows, the
robin, perched on the leafless branch, welcomes her approach, and the
lovely green of the young wheat is spread over the lately barren
fields. The lambs frisk about her, they nibble the grass of the valley,
then suddenly start and bound up the shelving mountain. But their infant
coats are now wet with rain, and their sports are over. Shivering, they
follow the shepherd with their bleating dams. And now, adorned with
rustic lays and bleeding hearts, the swain sends to his favourite maid
the mysterious valentine. The birds choose their mates; it is the season
of connubial joys. Mild then be thy reign, gentle FEBRUARY.

* * * * *

Who is this froward youth, with his loud and boisterous voice? He comes
from the east; limping rheumatism and shivering ague are in his train;
but his face is now dressed in smiles. The birds begin their lays, the
lambs again frolic around. The daisy and the violet grow beneath his
feet; he dresses himself with the buds of the spring. Vegetation
displays her lovely green, and holds out the promise of future riches.
Again the tempest of his passions arise; he tears the chaplet from his
brows, and scatters it in the wind. Oh! hasten far away from us,
variable and boisterous MARCH.

* * * * *

Clad in a robe of light green, and decorated with lilies of the valley,
a lovely maid advances. She breathes on the opening flowers, and their
beauty is expanded. The leaves of the grove burst forth, and the hedges
exhibit their partial verdure. Nature, invigorated, smiles around her;
but she weeps, and her flowerets bend, drooping, to the earth. Mild is
her mien, and the tint of modesty is on her cheek. She smiles, whilst
the tear still trembles in her eye, like placid resignation bending over
the tomb of a departed friend. She is a pensive maiden, and her name is
APRIL.

[Illustration: '_The lambs frisk about her.'--Page 16._]

* * * * *

Hark to the sound of rustic mirth, which precede a cheerful youth! His
step is light and airy, his robe is of many colours, roses adorn his
fl