IN THE KINGDOM OF FROST. 
By CHARLES HALLOCK. 
In this present extraordinary Winter season, 
when the antipodes seem to have exchanged 
places and climatic characteristics, meteorolog- 
ical surprises are constantly occurring, which, 
in the higher latitudes, are for the most part 
agreeable, whatever may be said of the unusual 
frigid experiences of the southern districts. In 
Minnesota one of the most beautiful of these 
phenomena is the exquisite frost work which 
has on so many calm mornings already filled 
the landscape with the enchantment of Fairy- 
land. The prevailing characteristics of ordi- 
nary winters in that State have been clear, 
sunny days, with an atmosphere intensely cold 
and dry. Dampness is unknown and rain un- 
heard of. But this winter it rained continu- 
ously on the 31st day of December, and fogs 
have been of quite frequent occurrence in De- 
cember and January. 
Very much as in the early morning hours of 
August in Laurentian regions, where dense 
fogs settle down upon the valleys and lowlands, 
to be dissipated and burned off later on by the 
fervent sun, just so in Minnesota this winter a 
pall of heavy mist has fallen upon the earth 
with systematic regularity about 4 o’clock of 
mornings, with just sufficient moisture in its 
composition to crystallize all objects with a 
marvelous efflorescence when the temperature 
subsequently fell somewhat; so that the first 
imperfect revelation of the opening twilight was 
what an emotional artist would appropriately 
call ‘‘a symphony in gray "—a dull, leaden sky, 
with a dead neutral tint, and everything else 
within sight as pallid and ghost-like as a church- 
yard full of grave stones. As the day advances 
and the light of dawn increases, the sky be- 
comes successively dove-colored, lavender and 
roseate, unfolding more and more with each 
transition the rapturous beauty of the land- 
scape, until finally the glancing rays of the 
risen sun light up the whole arcana with a 
glitter and glory too dazzling to behold, except 
with averted gaze. 
In this supreme moment the sky becomes in- 
tensely blue, and every line and touch of frost 
work on trees and shrubbery and telegraph 
wires are sharply cut against the cerulean 
background in tracery of intensest white, de- 
fining minutest twig and spray as they never 
were before. Grapevines and woodbines en- 
fold their trellises and arbors with crystat 
drapery. The tendrils of the weeping birch 
and willow depend like the sprays of fountains 
stilled in mid air. The meshes of lawn tennis 
nets, still standing as in summer days, vie in 
filmy texture with the finest Valenciennes lace. 
The massed lines of telegraph wire stand out 
in space overhead like the parallel threads of a 
weaver'’s loom. Here, there and everywhere 
the sunlight touches up the foliage and the 
sprays with prismatic hues which gleam and 
flash like gems in the pervading light; and 
later on, when its waxing heat warms the frost 
work of the trees, it expands like the budding 
leaves of spring time, until they resemble pear 
and plum trees in fullest blossom. 
And all the while the air is so still and calm, 
and the sun so bright, and the sky so clear, 
that one does not realize the great degree of 
frost until his ears begin to tingle, and perad- 
venture, when he consults the thermometer, he 
finds the temperature at zero, though his body 
may be in a glow of warmth. 
These frost phenomena are sui generis. 
They are beautiful but harmless; more exqui- 
site than the ice and sleet phenomena of lower 
latitudes, which break the limbs which they 
bespangle, or the blankets of fresh-fallen snow 
which cover the trees in masses of whiteness, 
which obliterate instead of defining the handi- 
work of the objects which they envelope. Here 
the frost work of the fog touches up the trees 
with the most minute and exquisite tracery, 
while it clothes them with an efflorescence 
which is incomparable. Thereis nothing more 
delicately beautiful in Nature's realm. 
