SNOW 179 
sible to claim this weather as the only type of 
our winter climate. There occasionally come 
days which, though perfectly still and serene, 
suggest more terror than any tempest, — terri- 
ble, clear, glaring days of pitiless cold, — when 
the sun seems powerless or only a brighter 
moon, when the windows remain ground glass 
at high noontide, and when, on going out of 
doors, one is dazzled by the brightness, and fan- 
cies for a moment that it cannot be so cold as 
has been reported, but presently discovers that 
the severity is only more deadly for being so 
still, Exercise on such days seems to produce 
no warmth ; one’s limbs appear ready to break 
on any sudden motion, like icy boughs. Stage- 
drivers and draymen are transformed to mere 
human buffaloes by their fur coats ; the patient 
oxen are frost-covered; the horse that goes 
racing by waves a wreath of steam from his 
tossing head. On such days life becomes a 
battle to all householders, the ordinary appa- 
ratus for defence is insufficient, and the price 
of caloric is continual vigilance. In innumer- 
able armies the frost besieges the portal, creeps 
in beneath it and above it, and on every latch 
and key-handle lodges an advanced guard of 
white rime. Leave the door ajar never so 
slightly, and a chill creeps in cat-like ; we are 
conscious by the warmest fireside of the near 
