Class, I went to the yard. Snow was still falling. Then poured out in my mind a question: What fl**or is it snow? I decided to try it. So, I Yong Shounie a little snow on the mouth, feeling icy cold, no smell, no flowers, primary composition Mid-Autumn Festival, not as covered as roses h**e thorns. I want to: What little snow you cold? I warm them! I catch them and put hands warmed. Yeah! Not a second disappeared, le**ing only a small drop of water beads. Where they go? Sure, and I hide and seek!
　　To school, everywhere is the white one, the snow is still one child to jump from the sky. First of the big brothers and sisters are br**ing the cold, br**ing he**y snow snow yet. Behind them there was a curved path, junior high school English composition, we walked convenient, small writing on the National Day is not smooth, but they must be tired, very hard.
　　Home school. Ive made several small partner, the 60th anniversary of the English composition, went to the yard of snowmen, snowball fige for dinner, I was reluctant to le**e.
　　After dinner, I learned a while. Go to bed at nine oclock, and soon fell asleep. In the dream I dreamed has had a he**y snowfall, the children again and I make a snowman, snowball fights, skiing ... hellip, Mid-Autumn Festival for the text;, play can be happy!