BIRD PARADISE 183 



by the Ishmaelite condition, "Hand against 

 every man. " Living such a life is sure to outlive 

 all that is princely in real being. Curious, these 

 birds, a long way from the fellowship that is per- 

 fect, and still my friends. Ah, there is a twang 

 to that that fits the human bow exactly. 



Friday night was given to a snow carnival that 

 threw a great coverlid at least a foot in thickness 

 over all the fields. It came without a particle of 

 wind, a revelation of Mother Nature's handiwork 

 not often seen. The trees held the crystals in 

 great quivering masses, while over the roofs of 

 the buildings it was curled and festooned like a 

 living creature. I heard the gentle breathing of 

 the storm at times through the night, and was 

 somewhat prepared for the morning's revelation. 

 With the coming of the sun the storm died away, 

 leaving the earth clothed in its great mantle of 

 white. An hour later the wind looked out from 

 its western fastness and followed the look with a 

 bound that fairly filled the snow particles with 

 new life. The trees shook down their fleecy 

 mantle and everywhere over the fields the char- 

 iots of snow were driven with a free hand. Here 

 and there the drifts were shaped, no two of them 



