A MIDSUMMER OUTING. 197 



It is winter now, and as welcome the warmth 

 and sunshine in this little nook as were the cool- 

 ness and shade in the leafy month of June. 



And what a merry fate is his who is snow- 

 bound ! It is something to know even a little of 

 what Whittier has pictured for all time. Every 

 feature of a great snow-storm is a living poem 

 that thrills us ; and ever dearest of all the open 

 fire. " Back-log studies," think of them ! Every- 

 thing, down to the breaking of paths to the high- 

 way and the assurance received at last that the 

 world still lasts everything, when snow-bound, 

 cuts a deep notch in the tally-stick of your mem- 

 ory. 



The townsman may greet me with a pitying 

 smile and turn with disdain from the pleasures 

 wherewith I am pleased ; but nothing that he 

 offers in their place has yet tempted me to for- 

 sake the idols of my early days. What though I 

 am rough as the gnarly black-oak's bark, have I 

 not Nature for my next neighbor ? 



01 iftibaummer (Dating. 



THE gentle breeze that keeps the forest roof 

 a-tremble whispers the promise of a cool day. 

 but breaks it long before noontide. It is wise, 



