But alas for the old and sickly, in poor
homes, with scanty food and firing! Little children suffer too, though
the gift of forgetfulness does for them what the gift of faith does for
their parents--helps them over many troubles, besides tingling fingers
and stony feet. There would be many tracks of those small feet in the
morning snow, leading away across the fresh-fallen clouds from the
house and cottage doors; for the barbarity of _morning-school_, that
is, an hour and a half of dreary lessons before breakfast, was in full
operation at Glamerton.
The winter came. One morning, all the children awoke, and saw a white
world around them. Alec jumped out of bed in delight. It was a sunny,
frosty morning. The snow had fallen all night, with its own silence,
and no wind had interfered with the gracious alighting of the feathery
water. Every branch, every twig, was laden with its sparkling burden of
down-flickered flakes, and threw long lovely shadows on the smooth
featureless dazzle below. Away, away, stretched the outspread glory,
the only darkness in it being the line of the winding river. All the
snow that fell on it vanished, as death and hell shall one day vanish
in the fire of God.
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