THE BEAUTY OF WINTER DAYS 



The indescribable charm of spring flowers ; to bask 

 in summer sun ; the golden glories of the autumn 

 tints : inhuman, lost, the heart that does not respond 

 to these. Yet many eyes only see the outside of 

 those doors which open wide to lands and worlds 

 where beauty reigns supreme and mysteries invite, 

 where perfect laws reveal the heart of Nature as she 

 woos and beckons along those roads which have no 

 end, whereon the traveller never tires, where she 

 flings wide open her caskets filled with gems and 

 strews them at our feet, and feasts our eyes, enchants 

 our ears, melts our hearts, and makes us know the 

 finger-prints of God. 



Gone now the milk-white fog, its vapour here is 

 free from sulphurous soot and grime; no trace of 

 haze to blur the atmosphere ; it is on such days that 



i w l11 iCjD> 



winter s sunshine gives us lights and colours as beau- SUNSHINE 



tiful as any in the year. 



The upward path follows the track of one of those 

 old and long disused roads, now but a burden scar ; 

 time has rounded off its sides and filled its ruts and 

 ditches, and we tread a smooth grass-way. 



We try to picture the tired feet of man and 



H. 2 17 



WIXTER 



