192 SIGNS AND SEASONS 



" siinstriick, " when it becomes "shaky," like a piece 

 of poor timber. The sun, when he sets about 

 destroying the ice, does not simply melt it from the 

 surface, — that were a slow process ; but he sends 

 his shafts into it and separates it into spikes and 

 needles, — in short, makes kindling-wood of it, so 

 as to consume it the quicker. 



One of the prettiest sights about the ice-harvest- 

 ing is the elevator in operation. When all works 

 well, there is an unbroken procession of the great 

 crystal blocks slowly ascending this incline. They 

 go up in couples, arm in arm, as it were, like 

 friends up a stairway, glowing and changing in the 

 sun, and recalling the precious stones that adorned 

 the walls of the celestial city. When they reach 

 the platform where they leave the elevator, they 

 seem to step off like things of life and volition; 

 they are still in pairs, and separate only as they 

 enter upon the "runs." But here they have an 

 ordeal to pass through, for they are subjected to 

 a rapid inspection by a man with a sharp eye in his 

 head and a sharp ice-hook in his hand, and the 

 black sheep are separated from the flock; every 

 square with a trace of sediment or earth-stain in it, 

 whose texture is not the perfect and unclouded crys- 

 tal, is rejected, and sent hurling down into the 

 abyss. Those that pass the examination glide into 

 the building along the gentle incline, and are 

 switched off here and there upon branch runs, and 

 distributed to all parts of the immense interior. 

 When the momentum becomes too great, the blocks 



