no 
NEARLY FROZEN. 
“ Like down from angel wings cast off, 
As plumed for joyous flight.” 
Not a bit of it ! 
If in any way it suggested poetry, it was by 
making them wonder that Milton had not 
stretched his infernal heroes upon such a plain 
to be pelted with the sharp, cutting crystals, and 
to be pierced through and through by the pitiless 
wind which accompanied it. 
Theirs was only an “A” tent, but all were 
obliged to take refuge in it. A fire was' an im- 
possible luxury. The two boys and three women 
wrapped themselves in the bedding to keep from 
freezing. 
It was anything but droll then, though it does 
make a picture that one can smile at now — the 
way in which that wretched day was passed : 
how they took turns in reading Captain Riley’s 
adventures in the burning sands of the Sahara, to 
keep their imaginations warm ; how, as they 
looked in each other’s blue faces, just peering out 
of the gray blankets, they envied him some of 
the superfluous heat from which he so nearly 
perished. The delineations of scenes that would 
have filled their eyes with tears — read on a July 
day — called forth nothing more tender than a 
compassionate wish that they could change places 
with him for a few hours. 
The storm continued until the afternoon of the 
