CHAPTER XX 



THE GARDEN IN WINTER 



HE winter has really come at length 

 and bud and bloom are finally 

 checked by the cold north wind. As 

 if, however, to temper the withering 

 breath of the weather, a beautiful soft and thick 

 mantle of snow has been thrown over the earth, 

 covering undulation and plain, tree and herb, with 

 its fresh, white purity. It seems to me impossible 

 to view without emotion the loveliness of the 

 vegetation upon the first good fall of snow, and I 

 feel thankful that in our country it never lies long 

 enough to allow this feeling to become habitual 

 and to lose the freshness and force with which 

 it periodically recurs. 



The trees, and especially the great elm, are once 



more exhibiting their beautiful tracery upon the 



sky, and the famished birds again approach nearer 



to the house in the hope of finding something 



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