THE SNOW-IMAGE

AND

OTHER TWICE-TOLD TALES



OLD NEWS

By

Nathaniel Hawthorne



There is a volume of what were once newspapers each on a small half-
sheet, yellow and time-stained, of a coarse fabric, and imprinted with
a rude old type. Their aspect conveys a singular impression of
antiquity, in a species of literature which we are accustomed to consider
as connected only with the present moment. Ephemeral as they were
intended and supposed to be, they have long outlived the printer and his
whole subscription-list, and have proved more durable, as to their
physical existence, than most of the timber, bricks, and stone of the
town where they were issued. These are but the least of their triumphs.
The government, the interests, the opinions, in short, all the moral
circumstances that were contemporary with their publication, have passed
away, and left no better record of what they were than may be found in
these frail leaves. Happy are the editors of newspapers! Their
productions excel all others in immediate popularity, and are certain to