NEW ENGLAND WINTER. 151 



frozen over, although my skates long since 

 went out of commission; and I still find 

 comfort in a tramp of five or six miles, with 

 the path none too good, and the mercury 

 half-way between the freezing point and 

 zero. I like the buffeting of the north 

 wind, and am not indisposed once in a while 

 to wrestle with the frost for the possession 

 of my own ears. Well as I love to loiter, 

 I rejoice also in weather which makes loi- 

 tering impossible ; which puts new springs 

 into a man's legs, and sets him spinning 

 over the course whether he will or no. It 

 will be otherwise with me by and by, I sup- 

 pose, seeing how my venerable fellow-citi- 

 zens are affected, but for the present nothing 

 renews my physical youth more surely than 

 a low temperature ; a fact which I welcome 

 as evidence that I am not yet going down- 

 hill, however closely I may be Hearing the 

 summit. 



Winter does us the honor to assume that 

 we are not weaklings. Summer may coddle 

 and flatter, but cold weather is no senti- 

 mentalist. Its kindest and tenderest mood 

 has something of a stoical severity about it. 

 It lays its finger without mercy on our most 



