MR. CHUPES AND MISS JENNY 



the nights when the aurora borealis gave a 

 red glow to the entire northern sky! How 

 can I attempt to tell you of them? 



Sometimes the unmistakable crunching 

 and squeaking of runners as the jingling 

 sleighs flew over the crisp, tightly-packed 

 snow, testified to the intensity of the cold, 

 and the occasional pistol-like reports that 

 announced the springing of nails in the 

 roof, corroborated the testimony of the 

 runners and the snow. There were times 

 when the maddest of winter sprites seemed 

 let loose upon us. Blinding snows fell and 

 wild winds howled as they piled the gigan- 

 tic drifts around us; and down, 'down, down, 

 went the mercury, till the thermometer 

 sometimes registered thirty or thirty-five 

 below zero-. But above the wildest storms 

 rose the sweet song of my little bird with 

 perpetual summer in his heart; and neither 

 cold, nor frost, nor tempests, interfered 

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