OUR COUNTRY LIFE 



within its warm embrace a log is placed. Tiny fiery 

 sprites run up and down the smooth birch-bark emitting 

 little cries of glee, showers of sparks fly up the chimney 

 breast, and all the soft gray coals are once more molten 

 gold. 



As the day draws to its close and the shadows of twi 

 light deepen, the glow of light upon the hearth becomes 

 more precious. Now is the time for a back log fresh 

 from the forest with all its sap intact. No dashing dis 

 play here, but a steady attention to the important task of 

 keeping those smoldering ashes alive and sending out 

 friendly heat. For hours it will last, gently simmering 

 and sizzling with a low, contented murmur which leads 

 one from tranquillity to sleep. 



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