Explore "Ashes on the Slide" by Eugene Field on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
WHEN Jim and Bill and I were boys a many years ago.
How gayly did we use to hail the coming of the snow! / Our sleds, fresh painted red and with their runners round and bright, / Seemed to respond right briskly to our clamor of delight / As we dragged them up the slippery road that climbed the rugged hill / Where perched the old frame meetin'-house, so solemn-like and still.