PART I. 



IN WINTER. 



Qt tointer Sunrise. 



THE waning moon was scarcely visible in the 

 western sky and not a star shone overhead, when 

 I ventured out of doors, at the call of the gath- 

 ering crows. These noisy scavengers of the 

 river's shore had evidently slept with one eye 

 open, and at the first faint glimmering of the 

 dawn signaled, in no uncertain tones, the com- 

 ing day. Across the brown meadows floated 

 their clamorous cries and roused me when my 

 own slumber was most profound; but I re- 

 sponded promptly, willing at least, if not wildly 

 anxious, to witness a winter sunrise. 



I have said the meadows were brown ; such 

 was their color when I saw them last ; but now, 

 every wrinkled blade of last year's grass was 

 daintily feathered with pearly frost. A line, too, 

 of steel-gray crystals topped every rail of the 



