WINTER EARTH STUDY. 489 



"fearful breath/ 7 who bows the pines and the "torpid 

 touch/' who chains the streams, a veritable angel of death ? 

 Or shall we picture him as a jolly little elf, full of pranks, 

 pinching our fingers, nipping our ears, and yet one of our 

 best friends, and one of Mother Nature's greatest helpers 

 and most useful messengers ? 



He pinches our ears, but he brings the roses to our 

 cheeks and the sparkle to our eyes. Mother Nature sends 

 him to tell us to dress warmly, and to get warm by keeping 

 our hands and feet and heart and blood at work. No lazy 

 boys and girls for him ! And yet, when night comes, and 

 we are tucked in warm and snug, how he makes us sleep ! 



He chills the water dust, but how he changes it ! At his 

 touch water dust covers our windows with fairy pictures 

 and silver stars, dresses the grass with diamonds, decks 

 the trees and fences with glittering moss, even spreads 

 over the blue sky a feathery, filmy lace, for the feathery 

 (cirrus) clouds that we enjoy so much are made of little 

 ice crystals which Jack Frost forms high in the air. 

 There he works, even in summer time. We shall find that 

 all the snowflakes are made by him. 



His touch stilled the brook ; but it was the loving, restful 

 touch of Mother Nature, not the "torpid touch" of the 

 angel of death. The little brook felt it, 



"And built a roof 



' Neath which he could house him winter-proof ; 

 All night by the white stars' frosty gleams 

 He groined his arches, and matched his beams ; 

 Slender and clear were his crystal spars 

 As the lashes of light that trim the stars. 

 He sculptured every summer delight 

 In his halls and chambers out of sight ; 

 Sometimes his tinkling waters slipt 

 Down through a frost-leaved forest crypt, 

 Long, sparkling aisles of steel -stemmed trees 

 Bending to counterfeit a breeze ; 



