184 ^tnuntn of f^t ^vttu 



father into the woods where he was log- 

 ging, and I shall never forget the spectral 

 beauty of the snow-bound forest in the 

 dead of winter. 



Some days the fir-trees would be bowed 

 down almost to breaking by a heavy fall 

 of new snow. Great masses of blue-green 

 needles would be capped and gowned 

 with spotless ermine. 



When the wind rustled through the 

 branches, showers of tiny crystals would 

 come sifting down, sparkling and glitter- 

 ing in the sunlight. You wondered what 

 the mysterious mound of snow under the 

 spruces was, until you saw a bunch of 

 bright laurel leaves pricking through. 



Everywhere there were tracks, — tracks 

 large and small, some made by padded 

 feet, and others scraggly and angular. 

 The problem always arose as to just what 

 animal or bird made the track ; which 



