CHAPTER XXI 



WINTER 



(i) November. 



With November, according - to the calendar, comes 

 " winter," and I can certainly recollect, during" forty years, 

 two really bad snowstorms occurring in the "dark month " 

 — the last as recently as 1 904. The snow came that year 

 with a N.-E. gale on the 21st, and on the following day 

 lay iS inches deep on the level, with drifts of 10 or 12 feet, 

 river frozen, trains buried, and communications cut off. 

 Such occurrences are, however, exceptional in November. 

 The general impression that the month has left on memory 

 is agreeable : the days, it is true, are short, but they are 

 mild and bright, and with an average degree of warmth 

 that one never enjoys in April, and seldom in May. 



But, bring it winter or " Indian summer," November 

 always brings the snow-buntings — charming little birds 

 apparently ordained by Nature ever to brighten the most 

 dreary prospect of snow and ice, since no bird living 

 seems more blythe and joyous than the snowfleck. 

 Whether one sees him in summer (as the author has), 

 amidst grim landscapes within the Arctic zone ; or in 

 winter on our own snow-clad hills, he is always the 



same — bright and happy despite the dreariest environ- 



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