THE COUNTRY IN WINTER 



obliteration of the passing moment, does it not bring 

 us to a keener realization of the eternal? For it gives 

 one an indescribable sense of restfulness with which to 

 begin the day's doings. 



"But in the middle of winter when the ground is 

 covered with snow, surely you can't find anything to 

 do in the country then?" I look pityingly at my tri- 

 umphant inquisitor. Shall I try to explain the daily 

 changing beauty of the winter landscape, from the 

 hoar frost which transforms my world into fairy-land, 

 through brilliant sunrises and more gorgeous sunsets, 

 through cloud effects of startling grandeur to that first 

 wet snow which, clinging to every crevice, gives a 

 new contour to my familiar scenes? — when, after melt- 

 ing days of a singular softness, follow fierce gales and 

 silent nights of severe cold, until one day the heavens 

 open and let down myriads of starry crystals to cover 

 the earth as with a garment. The long struggle of 

 the lake against the ice king is over, with the ther- 

 mometer at ten below zero for three nights; the ice is 

 thick enough for sleighs and boats. 



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