Albert Bobbett

THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW. Alice.—One of your old-world stories, Uncle John,Such as you tell us by the winter fire,Till we all wonder it has grown so late. Uncle John.—The story of the witch that ground to deathTwo children in her mill, or will you haveThe tale of Goody Cutpurse? Alice.—               Nay, now, nay;Those stories are too childish, Uncle John,Too childish even for little... more...