OUT IN THE COLD 



associate chain, and it had somewhere, no doubt, 

 the schoolmaster and the dominie who were the 

 dry batteries at each end of it. 



It was interesting to note how large a place the 

 first frost occupied in the minds of this commu 

 nity. Thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit was in some 

 way an event that mingled in the morning salu 

 tations. It was the first thing the landlord of the 

 tavern spoke of. &quot; Well,&quot; he remarked, with 

 beaming satisfaction, &quot; we had a frost last night.&quot; 

 The wheelwright reminded the shoemaker of it, 

 and the shoemaker smiled and reminded the 

 storekeeper. 



I had just learned that a sunrise, to my aston 

 ishment, may be an epoch. I had seen that com 

 monplace event turned into a pageant, covering 

 the prosaic old earth with halos, so that the dul 

 lard material took on an atomic apotheosis. It 

 was like a romance of Victor Hugo s, in which all 

 the scullions talk mots., and the canaille act epi 

 grams ; but I had hardly expected to see the frost 

 poke its glittering needles into the disposition of 

 men and lace their little outlooks with airy fili 

 gree. I tried to think of myself going about in 

 Broad Street, in the morning, grasping stock 

 brokers by the hand and saying, with joy and 

 gladness, &quot; Lift up your eyes, brother, it has 

 arrived.&quot; 



&quot; What has arrived, Colonel ? &quot; 



&quot; The frost. She went down to thirty degrees 

 last night. Hurrah ! &quot; 



I do not say that my fraternal associates would 

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