DRIFT. 15 



and wind, no house or living creature near. Some- 

 how I managed to dash into the fir-woods, where I 

 could see better. But the wind caught the tops of 

 the firs, which were loaded with snow, and bent and 

 twisted the trunks till they snapped and fell, splin- 

 tered like matchwood. The wind rushed, howled, 

 and groaned through them, bending the great stems 

 like so many fishing-rods, and the ground at their 

 roots heaved up and sank again as if an earthquake 

 was taking place. It was grander than any organ 

 recital, in its own wild way ; but it was as danger- 

 ous as it was fine. 



What strange memories and similes flash across 

 our minds, taking us from the sublime to the ridic- 

 ulous ! Although I felt the greatest anxiety to be 

 safely out of reach of the storm when the wind 

 snapped the great trunks, leaving their tops a mass 

 of ribbon-like splinters, they reminded me of the 

 little wooden mops we laboured industriously to 

 make, as children at school, by chewing pieces of 

 stick, which, when ready, we used to dip in ink, and 

 with them ornament the too clean pinafore of some 

 other good little boy. This mischievous piece of 

 schoolboy's fun, though from that day to this I had 



