46 LAND OF THE LINGERING SNOW. 



trees was in shadow, the upper half in sun- 

 light. Below, all seemed cold and dreary : the 

 unbroken snow, the rough trunks of the trees, 

 their sombre foliage. Above, all seemed warm 

 and cheerful : the bright blue sky, the passing 

 bits of white cloud, the upper branches of the 

 cedars glowing with golden olive-green. I 

 sought an open ledge where I could see from 

 Blue Hill to Monadnock, and watched the sun 

 sink into a bed of clouds. The after effects of 

 color were pronounced. Overhead the sky was 

 cobalt ; low in the east it was pale Prussian 

 blue ; in the north it was deep orange, and in the 

 west silvery, with a few dark ragged clouds 

 shredded over it. After sunset and just before 

 darkness comes, colors, irrespective of the out- 

 lines of the objects to which they belong, stand 

 out more forcibly than at any other time. This 

 was noticeable Saturday evening. The red of a 

 distant steeple was aggressive ; so was the yellow 

 of some tufts of dead grass waving in the wind, 

 and so was the russet of the dried leaves on a 

 grove of oaks or beeches two miles distant. 

 The sky at that hour was a matchless back- 

 ground for the copper-colored stems of the 

 willow trees, the bewildering network of descend- 

 ing lines in an elm's branches and twigs ; and 

 the distant rows of maples marching along an 

 opposing hilltop with the orange light of the 



