ice, and coming on to Cubby Hollow, I crossed on 

 the ice, ascended the hill, and keeping in the 

 edge of the swamp, left the pines a distance to 

 the left. A chickadee, as if oppressed by the 

 silence and loneliness among the trees, and un- 

 easy in his stout little heart at the threatening 

 storm, flew into the bushes as near to me as he 

 could get, arid, apparently for the sake of com- 

 panionship, followed me along the path, cheep- 

 ing plaintively. 



As I emerged from the woods into a corn- 

 field and turned to look over at the gloomy 

 pines, a snowflake fell softly upon my arm. The 

 storm had begun. Now the half-starved crows 

 came flocking in by hundreds, hurrying to roost 

 before the darkness should overtake them. A 

 biting wind was rising 5 already I could hear it 

 soughing through the pines. There was some- 

 thing fascinating in the oncoming monster, and 

 backing up behind a corn-shock, I stopped a 

 little to watch the sweep of its white winds be- 

 tween me and the dark, sounding pines. 



I shivered as the icy flakes fell thicker and 

 faster. How the wild, unhoused things must 

 suffer to-night ! I thought, as the weary pro- 



[21] 



