A YEAR IN THE FIELDS 



hills, bending in white and ever-changing 

 forms above the fences, sweeping across the 

 plains, whirling in eddies behind the build- 

 ings, or leaping spitefully up their walls, 

 in short, taking the world entirely to itself, 

 and giving a loose rein to its desire. 



But in the morning, behold ! the world 

 was not consumed ; it was not the besom of 

 destruction, after all, but the gentle hand of 

 mercy. How deeply and warmly and spot- 

 lessly Earth's nakedness is clothed ! the 

 "wool" of the Psalmist nearly two feet 

 deep. And as far as warmth and protec- 

 tion are concerned, there is a good deal of 

 the virtue of wool in such a snow-fall. How 

 it protects the grass, the plants, the roots 

 of the trees, and the worms, insects, and 

 smaller animals in the ground! It is a veri- 

 table fleece, beneath which the shivering 

 earth ("the frozen hills ached with pain," 

 says one of our young poets) is restored to 

 warmtji. When the temperature of the air 

 is at zero, the thermometer, placed at the 

 surface of the ground beneath a foot and a 

 half of snow, would probably indicate but a 

 few degrees below freezing; the snow is 

 rendered such a perfect non-conductor of 

 heat mainly by reason of the quantity of air 

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