Leaving my City haunts by a morning train, I was landed early in
the afternoon at the nearest station to my friend's house, although
in this case "nearest" was indeed, as it proved, by no means near.
When I reached the inn where I had fondly expected to find "flys,
omnibuses, and other vehicles obtainable on the shortest notice,"
I was met by the landlady of the establishment, who, with an
apologetic curtsey and a deprecating smile, informed me that she
was extremely sorry to say her last conveyance had just started
with a party, and would not return until late at night. I looked
at my watch; it was nearing four. Seven miles, and I had a large
traveling-bag to carry.

"Is it a good road from here to--?" I asked the landlady.

"Oh yes, sir; very fair."

"Well," I said, "I think I'll walk it. The railway journey has
rather numbed my feet, and a sharp walk will certainly improve
their temperature."

So I courageously lifted my bag and set out on the journey to my
friend's house. Ah, how little I guessed what was destined to
befall me before I reached that desired haven! I had gone, I
suppose, about two miles when I descried behind me a vast mass of
dark, surging cloud driving up rapidly with the wind. I was in
open country, and there was evidently going to be a very heavy
snowstorm. Presently it began. At first I made up my mind not
to heed it; but in about twenty minutes after the commencement
of the fall the snow became so thick and so blinding, that it was
absolutely impossible for me to find my way along a road which was