Excerpt from Memory Months
HE child of the year. '1 Somehow it never grew like the other months, and was never so strong and full of life. But somehow, like the little child of the family, we love it, maybe, best of all.
The great fire crackles, and the red and yello... w sparks leap out on the hearthstone, and there are stories and songs, and the Fairies of February dance and whirl all about the room.
Somehow it is a home month, and a home month is surely best of all. Stories of yesterday and stories of away back there.
Just like February, we were all children once. Children of smiles and merry laughter. After awhile we grew up, but after all maybe we are just grown-up children. There was the romp and the play and then the little folded hands and Now l lay me down to sleep.
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