DECEMBER. 573 



med by this sleet, which resembles a thin cloud of dust rather 

 than of vapor. This phenomenon is caused by the steam 

 which has risen from the ocean, in an invisible form, and 

 crystalized as it ascended into the atmosphere. 



On this day many a little bird will perish in the forest, 

 struck by a shaft from the inclement skies ; and the fishes 

 that swim in the shallow waters will be imbedded, like petri- 

 factions, in the ice ; for all the little rivulets are frozen, and 

 their gurgling is not heard beneath the snows. The crows, 

 and jays, and other winter birds are almost silent in the 

 woods, and the bleating of flocks is not heard upon the hills. 

 No living creature dares come forth to an encounter with 

 the winds. All nature is still, save the fresh biting blast that 

 is sweeping over the earth, and striking all living things with 

 the stillness and coldness of death. 



The poultry in the yards are gathered together in sunny 

 corners, or under the shelter of a fence, apparently torpid. 

 Here and there is a scattering one, moping around the door- 

 step, with its feathers frizzled, and its limbs almost too be- 

 numbed to support its weight. When the door is opened, 

 they suddenly arouse from their torpidity, and then sink back 

 again to their retreat. The only comfort among the brute 

 creation is enjoyed by the cattle within the barns, and the 

 sheep within their fold. 



The sun is drawing near his decline, but no beautiful colors 

 surround his setting. The sky is perfectly blue over our 

 heads, a.nd a grayish circle binds the horizon, illuminated 

 with a kind of yellow light, save in the close vicinity of the 

 bay, where the rising vapor has formed a girdle of purple haze 

 dimly fringed with the hues of the rainbow. No clouds are 

 in the atmosphere, for its intense coldness precipitates the 

 vapor into crystals, that fall to the earth ere it has arrived at 

 any considerable height. Everything is still, save the winds 

 that whistle through the doors and crevices, and clatter 

 among the stiff and frozen branches of the trees. 



It is evening. The doors and windows are tightly closed; 

 the hearths of the dwelling-houses are heaped with fuel, and 

 all the villagers are assembled around their firesides. The 



