DECEMBER. 571 



Though summer flowers invite our steps no more, 

 And autumn's jolly harvest time is o'er, 

 And butterflies and singing birds have flown. 

 The country yields more pleasures than the town. 

 There 's many a cheerful toil and rural sport, 

 Maintained by Winter in his dreary court ; 

 And I would bid all city sports adieu, 

 To join the country and its jovial crew. 



Nature, at length, has turned her flowery page, 



That a new scene of beauty might engage 



Our notice and awake our gratitude ; 



With different charms are all the months endued. 



At every period, mindful of our joys. 



She feeds us with no pleasure, till it cloys ; 



Now clothes the fields in green and then in white. 



And opes with every page new wonders to our sight. 



No. X. A Cold Day. 



All night have we been listening to the fresh blowing of 

 the winds, and dreading an encounter with the cold that was 

 to await us in the morning. Day has dawned, and the sky 

 and atmosphere are as clear as the etherial space between the 

 heavens and the earth. The sun's broad disk is already 

 above the horizon ; but his rays dimly penetrate through the 

 window panes, almost opaque with a thick coating of frost. 

 As they struggle through this frost-work, thousands of beau- 

 tiful configurations are cast upon the opposite ceiling, which 

 are in a constant wavering motion. The sunbeams, as bright 

 as a perfectly pellucid atmosphere can make them, are ren- 

 dered powerless by the cold winds that bind them in their 

 embraces. 



The mercury has sunk below zero. The fire that is blaz- 

 ing upon the hearth sends no heat into the room ; and the 

 whole family gather round it in a semicircle, scorching them- 

 selves in a vain effort to obtain warmth. We go to our tasks, 

 but we cannot pursue them. A freezing cold settles all 

 around us, and drives us constantly to the fire. The needle 

 drops from the hand of the seamstress, and the penman can 

 scarcely make his mark. The latches of the doors fasten 

 upon the hands, as we attempt to open them. Everything 



