DEFIERS OF DEATH. 161 



ramping worm grew stiff as iron, and chinked like a stone, as 

 it fell upon the ice-bound earth. 



The Demon of Frost went home, well pleased with Ms work, 

 and after many another walk, upon the like death- doing errands, 

 traversed once more, towards the end of February, the very 

 path he had followed in dark November. Then he saw in the 

 forest but a few remains, half rotted, of his victim leaves. 

 On the desolate moor he passed over the whitening bones of 

 his victim man. In the flower garden not a vestige was visible 

 of his victim daliahs. But where was his supposed victim 

 caterpillar ? Amidst the crystal gems of his own scattering, 

 as they melted in the smiles of his arch enemy the sun, sat a 

 saucy butterfly, and the Demon of Frost shook his hoary locks, 

 and gnashed his icy teeth ; for he knew that the tiny spark of 

 life which animated that winged creature was the very same 

 which must have laughed at his power in the frost-stiffened 

 caterpillar. 



But what has the Demon of Frost, or frozen caterpillars, to 

 do with this melting season ? We will endeavour to explain 

 their unapparent relationship, or tell at least how they have 

 been brought to our own minds, as connected with the present 

 time of year. 



Every particular season tells a particular tale or tales of 

 some prevailing and appropriate burthen. This, the season of 

 Midsummer, tells especially of life, life in its maximum, like the 



