150 NEW ENGLAND WINTER. 



of them. How brief the days were ! How 

 cruel the authority that kept us in the 

 house after dark, while so many of our 

 mates were still " sliding down hill " (we 

 knew nothing of "coasting" where I was 

 born), or skating in the meadow ! Child- 

 hood in the sunny South must be a very 

 tame affair, New England youngsters being 

 judges. 



Trifles of this kind, if any be moved to 

 call them such, are not to be sneered out of 

 court. Fifteen years form no small part 

 of a human life, and whatever helps us to 

 grow up happy contributes in no slight de- 

 gree to keep us happy to the end. " When 

 I became a man I put away childish 

 things " ? Yes, it may be ; but the very 

 things that I boast of outgrowing have 

 made me what I am. In truth, when it 

 comes to such a question as this, I confess 

 to putting more faith in the verdict of 

 healthy children than in the unanimous 

 theories and groans of whole congresses of 

 valetudinarians. I am not yet so old nor 

 so feeble but I gaze with something of my 

 youthful enthusiasm upon the first snow. 

 It quickens my pulse to see the ponds 



