DEFIERS OF DEATH. 161 



ramping worm grew stiff as iron, and chinked like a stone, as 

 it fell upon the ice-bound earth. 



The Demon of Frost went home, well pleased with his 

 work, and after many another walk, upon the like death- 

 doing errands, traversed once more, towards the end of 

 February, the very path he had followed in dark November. 

 Then he saw in the forest but a few remains, half rotted, of 

 his victim leaves. On the desolate moor he passed over the 

 whitening bones of his victim man. In the flower garden not 

 a vestige was visible of his victim dahlias. But where was 

 his supposed victim caterpillar ? Amidst the crystal gems of 

 his own scattering, as they melted in the smiles of his arch 

 enemy the sun, sat a saucy butterfly, and the Demon of Frost 

 shook his hoary locks, and gnashed his icy teeth ; for he 

 knew that the tiny spark of life which animated that winged 

 creature was the very same which must have laughed at his 

 power in the frost-stiffened caterpillar. 



But what has the Demon of Frost, or frozen caterpillars, to 

 do with this melting season ? We will endeavour to explain 

 their unapparent relationship, or tell at least how they have 

 been brought to our own minds, as connected with the 

 present time of year. 



Every particular season tells a particular tale or tales of 

 some prevailing and appropriate burthen. This, the season of 

 Midsummer, tells especially of life, life in its maximum, like 



