There had been just snow enough to cover the earth and all its
covers with one sheet of pure and uniform white, and just time
enough since the snow had fallen to allow the hedges to be freed of
their fleecy load, and clothed with a delicate coating of rime. The
atmosphere was deliciously calm; soft, even mild, in spite of the
thermometer; no perceptible air, but a stillness that might almost
be felt, the sky, rather gray than blue, throwing out in bold relief
the snow-covered roofs of our village, and the rimy trees that rise
above them, and the sun shining dimly as through a veil, giving a
pale fair light, like the moon, only brighter. There was a silence,
too, that might become the moon, as we stood at our little gate
looking up the quiet street; a Sabbath-like pause of work and play,
rare on a work-day; nothing was audible but the pleasant hum of
frost, that low monotonous sound, which is perhaps the nearest
approach that life and nature can make to absolute silence. The
very waggons as they come down the hill along the beaten track of
crisp yellowish frost-dust, glide along like shadows; even May's
bounding footsteps, at her height of glee and of speed, fall like
snow upon snow.

But we shall have noise enough presently: May has stopped at
Lizzy's door; and Lizzy, as she sat on the window-sill with her
bright rosy face laughing through the casement, has seen her and
disappeared. She is coming. No! The key is turning in the door,
and sounds of evil omen issue through the keyhole--sturdy 'let me
outs,' and 'I will goes,' mixed with shrill cries on May and on me
from Lizzy, piercing through a low continuous harangue, of which the
prominent parts are apologies, chilblains, sliding, broken bones,
lollypops, rods, and gingerbread, from Lizzy's careful mother.
'Don't scratch the door, May! Don't roar so, my Lizzy! We'll call