134 PASTORAL DAYS. 



find the winter full of interest and beauty. How distinctly I recall the 

 thrilling spectacle of that glad morning when, awakening early, and 

 jumping from the little cot so snug and warm, I tripped across the chilly 

 floor and scratched a peep-hole on the frosted window-pane ; looked out 

 upon a world so changed, so strangely beautiful, that at first it seemed 

 like a lingering vision in half-awakened eyes — still looking into dream- 

 land. All the world is dressed in purest white, as soft and light as 

 down from seraphs' wings. The orchard trees, the elms, and all the 

 leafless shrubs, as if by magic spell, transformed to shadowy plumes of 

 spotless purity, and the interlacing boughs o'erhead vanishing in a can- 

 opy of glistening, feathery spray. I look upon a realm celestial in its 

 beauty, unprofaned by earthly sign or sound. A strange, supernal still- 

 ness fills the air; and save where some unseen spirit-wing tips the slender 

 tvvisr and lets fall the scintillating shower, no slightest movement mars 

 the enchanted vision. Above, in the far-off blue, I see the circling flock 

 of doves, their snowy wings glittering in their upward flight — apt em- 

 blems in a scene so like a glimpse of spirit-land. A single vision such 

 as this should wed the heart to winter's loveliness, a loveliness inspiring 

 and immaculate, for never in the cycle of the year does nature wear a 

 face so void of earthly impress, so spirit-like, so near the heavenly ideal. 



One of the most striking features of the winter ramble in the woods 

 is their impressive stillness. But stop awhile and listen. That very si- 

 lence will give emphasis to every sound that soon shall vibrate on the 

 clear atmosphere, for " little pitchers have big ears," and wide-open eyes 

 too. They will first be sure that the stick you hold is only a cane, and 

 not the small boy's gun which they have so learned to dread. Hark ! 

 even from the hollow maple at your side there comes a scraping sound, 

 and in an instant more two black and shining" eyes are peering down at 

 us from the bulging hole above. Tut ! don't strike the little fellow. 

 Had you only waited a moment longer, we would have seen him emerge 

 from his concealment, and with frisky, bushy tail laid flat upon the bark, 

 he would have hung head downward on the trunk, and watched our every 

 movement; but now you've startled him, he thinks you mean mischief, 

 and you'll see his sparkling eyes no more at that knot-hole. Listen ! 

 Now we hear a rustling in the sere and snow-tipped weeds somewhere 

 near by, and presently a little feathery form flits past, and settles yonder 

 on the swaying rush. With feathers ruffled into a little fuzzy ball, he 

 bustles around among the downy seeds, now prying in their - midst, now 



