2i8 INSPIRED BY THE SNOW 



as joy in his lithe, bounding motions among the 

 naked trees, for nature seems to have done her 

 utmost to provide a setting that would best display 

 his graces of form and motion. 



When the falling snow clings in light, airy masses 

 on the Spruces and Pines, and festoons the naked 

 tracery and clustering winter buds of the Maples — 

 when the still air seems to fix every twig and branch 

 and clinging mass of snow in a solid medium of 

 crystal, the spell of stillness is broken by the silent 

 but joyful leaps of the hurrying Squirreh How alive 

 he seems, in contrast with the silence of the snow, as 

 his outlines make changing silhouettes on its perfect 

 white 1 His body curves and elongates with regular 

 undulations as he measures off the snow with twin 

 footprints. Away in the distance he is still visible 

 among the naked trunks, a moving patch of animated 

 blackness. His free regular footprints are all about, 

 showing where he has run hither and thither, with 

 no apparent purpose except to manifest his joy in life. 



His red-haired cousin comes to a lofty opening in a 

 hollow tree and looks out with an expression of dis- 

 appointment on his face. He does not like the snow- 

 covered landscape spread out so artistically before 

 him. It makes him tired, and he has not enough 

 energy to scold an intruder, as he would in the 

 comfortable days of summer. No amount of coaxing 

 or tapping will tempt him from his lofty watch-tower. 



