The Firt Snow
The firt now came. How beautiful it wa, falling o ilently all day long, all nightlong, on the mountain, on the meadow, on the roof on the living, on the graveof the dead! All white ave the river, that marked it coure be a winding black lineacro the landcape; and the leafle tre, that againt the leaden ky now revealed more fully the wonderful beauty and intricacie of their branche. Whatilence, too, came with the now, and what ecluion! Every ound wa muffled;every noie changed to omething oft and muical. No more tramping hoof, nmore rattling wheel! Only the chiming of leigh-bell, beating a wift and merrilya the heart of children.