FEBRUARY DAYS 



mountain peaks to the clouds, from cloud 

 to cloud along the darkening sky, and 

 vanishes beyond the blue barrier of the 

 horizon. 



There are days of perfect calm and 

 hours of stillness as of sleep, when the 

 lightest wisp of cloud fleece hangs move- 

 less against the sky and the pine-trees 

 forget their song. But for the white 

 columns of smoke that, unbent in the 

 still air, arise from farmstead chimneys, 

 one might imagine that all affairs of life 

 had been laid aside ; for no other sign of 

 them is visible, no sound of them falls 

 upon the ear. You see the cows and 

 sheep in the sheltered barnyards and 

 their lazy breaths arising in little clouds, 

 but no voice of theirs drifts to you. 



No laden team crawls creaking along 

 the highway nor merry jangle of sleigh 

 bells flying into and out of hearing over 

 its smooth course, nor for a space do the 

 tireless panting engine and roaring train 

 divide earth and sky with a wedge of dis- 

 solving vapor. The broad expanse of 

 the lake is a white plain of snow-covered 

 ice : no dash of angry waves assails its 

 shore still glittering with the trophies of 

 264 



