452 
RURAL HOURS. 
out after him ; tiiey only began to believe the truth of the stoiy 
when too late. 
Thursday, 28th. — Snow again. Reports from Albany say the 
Hudson is probably closed, and navigation broken iip for the win- 
ter. The river usually freezes some time before our lake. 
Friday, 29th. — Snow. A darker sky than usual. 
Saturday, 30th. — Still, half- cloudy day. Snow eighteen inches 
deep ; a fall of several inches during the night. The air is always de- 
lightfully pure after a fresh fall of snow, and to-day this sort of win- 
try perfume is very marked. Long drive, which we enjoyed extreme- 
ly. We have put on our winter livery in earnest, and shall prob- 
ably keep it, Avith a break here and there, perhaps, until the spring 
equinox. It is, indeed, a vast change from grass to snow ; things 
wear a widely different aspect from what they do in summer. All 
color seems bleached out of the earth, and what was a few weeks 
since a glowing landscape, has now become a still bas-rehef. The 
hills stand unveiled ; the beautiful leaves are gone, and the eye 
seeks in vain for a trace of the brilliant drapery of autumn — even 
its discolored shreds lie buried beneath the snow. The fields are 
all alike : meadow, and corn-field, and hop-ground, lie shrouded 
and deserted ; neither laborers nor cattle are seen a-field during 
three months of our year. Gray lines of wooden fences, old 
stumps, and scattered leafless trees are all that break the broad, 
white Avaste, which a while since bore the harvests of summer. 
There is, however, something very fine and imposing in a broad 
expanse of snow : hill and dale, farm and forest, trees and dwell- 
ings, the neglected waste, and the crowded streets of the town, 
are all alike under its influence ; over all it throws its beautiful 
vesture of purer white than man can bleach ; for thousands and 
