236 Walks in New England 



The Second Day of December 



LET it be remembered that the second day 

 of December, in this last year of the nine 

 teenth century, was one of the most exqui 

 site examples of Indian summer weather known in 

 this latitude. We are unusually blest, for snows 

 of several storms lie northwest and north and 

 northeast of us, and all along the hills of Western 

 Massachusetts our rains have been ice-storms. 

 Hereabouts, as in a magically guarded, charm- 

 encircled region, no frost has yet come to blacken 

 the clover in the fields and wilt the petunia in the 

 gardens. There have been many warm and sweet 

 early days of December, and even late days, but 

 the oldest inhabitant fails to remember a year 

 when without a killing frost summer has gradua 

 ted through autumn to the calendar verge of win 

 ter, as in this year of grace. With the light haze 

 and mists of the morning, the earth assumed that 

 mystic grace which we associate with Indian sum 

 mer now so long past its reasonable season. 

 A touch of mirage was in the landscape, as for- 



