230 
WINTERY SIGNS. 
son, a Livournese, rejoiced in a couple of barbaric 
pendules, doubtless of bad gold, but good conducting 
power.” 
The indications of winter were still becoming more 
and more marked. On the 11th, the sun rose but 9° 
at meridian; on the 15th but 6°; and on the 7th of No- 
vember, at the same hour, it almost rested on the ho- 
rizon. The daylight, however, was sometimes strange- 
ly beautiful. One day in particular, the 8th, a rosy 
tint diffused itself over every thing, shaded off a little 
at the zenith, but passing down from pink to violet, 
and from violet to an opalescent purple, that banded 
the entire horizon. 
The moon made its appearance on the 13 th of Oc- 
tober. At first it was like a bonfire, warming up the 
ice with a red glare ; but afterward, on the 15th, when 
it rose to the height of 4°, it silvered the hummocks 
and frozen leads, and gave a softened lustre to the 
snow, through which our two little brigs stood out in 
black and solitary contrast. The stars seemed to have 
lost their twinkle, and to shine with concentrated 
brightness as if through gimlet-holes in the cobalt can- 
opy. The frost-smoke scarcely left the field of view. 
It generally hung in wreaths around the horizon ; but 
it sometimes took eccentric forms ; and one night, I 
remember, it piled itself into a column at the west, and 
Aquila flamed above it like a tall beacon-light. We 
were glad to note these fanciful resemblances to the 
aspects of a more kindly region ; they withdrew us 
sometimes from the sullen realities of the world that 
encompassed us — ice, frost-smoke, and a threatening 
sky. 
We had parhelia again more than once, but devel- 
oped imperfectly ; a mass of incandescence 22° from 
