SILVER FIELDS 15 



fancy that a part of this northern half of the earth 

 outshines her. 



Silver fields is not a good enough name to- 

 night for these shining farms, for the creek un- 

 marked now but by the fringe of wooded banks, 

 nor for the broad lake quiet under ice and snow, 

 but never when tossed by autumnal storms so 

 white as now and scarcely brighter when in the 

 glare of the summer sun. If you have a newly 

 minted silver coin in your pocket, cast it before 

 you and see how dull a dot it is on the surface. It 

 would hearten a greenbacker to see how poor a 

 show the precious metal makes to look at, hardly 

 worth picking up out of acres of brighter riches 

 that rust doth not corrupt and that shall be stolen 

 by no meaner thief than the sun, the south wind, 

 and the rain. The roofs of gray old homesteads 

 outshine the lights in the windows, and we won- 

 der if any of the inmates are aware how royally 

 their houses are tiled. Doubtless not one of them 

 thinks of it, or, if at all, only as protecting the pine 

 shingles from the sparks of the rousing winter fires, 

 or as so much filling for the cistern when the next 

 thaw comes ; nor, as compared with it, do the 

 interiors, the low, whitewashed ceilings, rag car- 

 pets, creaking splint-bottomed chairs and deal 

 furniture, seem mean to them or unfitting their 

 fine, perishable covering. For ourselves, we begin 

 to entertain more kindly thoughts of such indoor 



