O*h, the .snow, the

beautiful snow . Freeing the sky and the

earth below, Down on the housetops into

the street Lighting on to the people we

meet. Dancing, flirting, skimming along,

Beautiful snow, it can do no wrong ;

Once I was pure as the beautiful snow.'

? But that, according to my candid

friends who know me best, was a long,

long time ago. Nevertheless I look on

the snow in the light of an old friend,

and when ' ' the news came down to the

Castlereagh and went to the world at

large ' that it was falling at

Blackheath, I didn't take long to make

up my mind (candid friends asforesaid

say it ought not to as it isn't a very

large one) what