224 Iftature Sttubies in 



in ice, a solid rampart at the base, a thin glaze of 

 frosted windows around its falling stream, with can- 

 opies and columns, buttresses and abutments, for a 

 hundred feet up the steep cliffs. The snowstorm 

 whistled a lively obligato to our comment of wonder 

 and delight, the gale roared a deeper bass to the 

 clear soprano of the brook. It was worth a score of 

 languid summer visits, to stand here in the driving 

 snow, deep in the heart of the hills, defying storm 

 and temperature for this glimpse of the architecture 

 of the ice. 



But we could not linger in these fastnesses of 

 nature. I must meet the train down in the valley, 

 and hasten back to the work and pleasures of the 

 town. These venturesome friends had twelve miles 

 to drive in the teeth of this strengthening gale to 

 their snug homes on the Berkshire plains. In half 

 an hour I bade them good-bye and started south- 

 ward. They debated the wisdom of remaining over 

 night in the village, or of making the homeward trip 

 in the storm. With characteristic Berkshire courage 

 they decided to push over the mountain for home ; 

 and after a long, hard battle with sleet and snow 

 and wind and cold, they accomplished their journey 

 without damage. Crusted and sheeted in sleet and 

 fringed with icicles, they descended like a party of 

 frost-spirits straight from the lands beyond the pole. 

 Meantime their whilom guest, upon his homeward 

 journey, saw the snow turn to sleet and the sleet to 

 rain, and in the steaming, slushy streets of New York 



