It was
almost as good as any day in winter in America. I went out with Mamma
and Sweet Fern [Julian]. The snow is about half a foot deep. Julian
is out, now, playing. I packed him up very warmly indeed. I wish I
could go out in the new snow very much. Julian is making a hollow
house of snow by the rhododendron-tree." What not to do we learned
occasionally from the birds. "The little robins and a thrush and some
little sparrows have been here this morning; and the thrush was so
large that she ate up the crumbs very fast, and the other poor little
birds did not dare to come near her till she had done eating." My
father used to treat the Old and the New Year with the deepest
respect. I never knew the moments to be so immense as when, with
pitying gentleness, we silently attended the Old Year across the
ghostly threshold of midnight, and my father at last rose reverently
from his chair to open the window, through which, at that breath, the
first peals would float with new promise and remembering toll.
We children were expected to come into the presence of the grown
people and enjoy the interesting guests whom we all loved. My father
was skillful in choosing friends: they were rare, good men, and he and
they really met; their loves and interests and his were stirred by the
intercourse, as if unused muscles had been stretched. I could perceive
that my father and his best cronies glowed with refreshment. Mr.
Bennoch was a great favorite with us. He was short and fat, witty and
jovial.
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