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And, when the second morning shone,
We looked upon a world unknown,
On nothing we could call our own.

4. Around the glistening wonder bent
The blue walls of the firmament;
No cloud above, no earth below,-
A universe of sky and snow!
The old familiar sights of ours

Took marvelous shapes: strange domes and

towers

Rose up where sty and corn-crib stood,

Or garden wall, or belt of wood;

A smooth white mound the brush-pile showed; A fenceless drift what once was road;

The bridle-post an old man sat,

With loose-flung coat and high cocked hat;
The well-curb had a Chinese roof;

And even the long sweep, high aloof,

In its slant splendor, seemed to tell
Of Pisa's leaning miracle.

5. All day the gusty north-wind bore
The loosening drift its breath before;
Low circling down its southern zone,
The sun through dazzling snow-mist shone.
Beyond the circle of our hearth,
No welcome sound of toil or mirth
Unbound the spell, and testified
Of human life and thought outside.
We minded that the sharpest ear
The buried brooklet could not hear,
The music of whose liquid lip
Had been to us companionship,

[graphic]

To have an almost human tone.

6. As night drew on, and, from the crest

Of wooded knolls that ridged
the west,

The sun, a snow-blown traveler, sank
From sight beneath the smothering bank,
We piled, with care, our nightly stack
Of wood against the chimney-back,-
The oaken log, green, huge, and thick,
And on its top the stout backstick;

The knotty forestick laid apart,

And filled between, with curious art,
The ragged brush; then, hovering near,
We watched the first red blaze appear;
Heard the sharp crackle, caught the gleam
On whitewashed wall and sagging beam,
Until the old, rude-furnished room
Burst, flower-like, into rosy bloom.

7. Shut in from all the world without,
We sat the clean-winged hearth about,
Content to let the north-wind roar
In baffled rage at pane and door,
While the red logs before us beat
The frost-line back with tropic heat;
And ever, when a louder blast

Shook beam and rafter as it passed,
The merrier up its roaring draft

The great throat of the chimney laughed.

8. The house-dog, on his paws outspread,
Laid to the fire his drowsy head;
The cat's dark silhouette on the wall
A couchant tiger's seemed to fall;
And, for the winter fireside meet,
Between the andirons' straddling feet,
The mug of cider simmered slow,
The apples sputtered in a row;
And, close at hand, the basket stood
With nuts from brown October's wood.

9. At last the great logs, crumbling low, Sent out a dull and duller glow;

The bull's-eye watch that hung in view,
Ticking its weary circuit through,
Pointed, with mutely-warning sign,
Its black hand to the hour of nine.
That sign the pleasant circle broke:
My uncle ceased his pipe to smoke,
Knocked from its bowl the refuse gray,
And laid it tenderly away,

Then roused himself to safely cover
The dull red brands with ashes over.
And while with care our mother laid
Her work aside, her steps she stayed
One moment, seeking to express
Her grateful sense of happiness

For food and shelter, warmth and health,
And love's contentment, more than wealth.

10. Within our beds awhile we heard

The wind that round the gables roared,
With now and then a ruder shock,
Which made our very bedsteads rock.
We heard the loosened clapboards tost,
The board-nails snapping in the frost;
And on us, through the unplastered wall,
Felt the light-sifted snow-flakes fall.
But sleep stole on, as sleep will do
When hearts are light and life is new;
Faint and more faint the murmurs grew,
Till, in the summer-land of dreams,
They softened to the sound of streams,
Low stir of leaves, and dip of oars,
And lapsing waves on quiet shores.

J. G. Whittier.

LXXXV.-IRONICAL EULOGY ON DEBT.

DE

EBT is of the very highest antiquity. The first debt in the history of man is the debt of nature, and the first instinct is to put off the payment of it to the last moment. Many persons, it will be observed, following the natural procedure, would die before they would pay their debts.

2. Society is composed of two classes-debtors and creditors. The creditor class has been erroneously supposed the more enviable. Never was there a greater misconception; and the hold it yet maintains upon opinion, is a remarkable example of the obstinacy of error, notwithstanding the plainest lessons of experience. The debtor has the sympathies of mankind. He is seldom spoken of but with expressions of tenderness and compassion-"the poor debtor!" and "the unfortunate debtor!" On the other hand, "harsh" and "hard-hearted" are the epithets allotted to the creditor.

3. Who ever heard the "poor creditor," the "unfortunate creditor" spoken of? No, the creditor never becomes the object of pity, unless he passes into the debtor class. A creditor may be ruined by the poor debtor, but it is not until he becomes unable to pay his own debts, that he begins to be compassionated. A debtor is a man of mark. Many eyes are fixed upon him; many have interest in his wellbeing; his movements are of concern; he can not disappear unheeded; his name is in many mouths; his name is upon many books; he is a man of noteof promissory note; he fills the speculation of many minds; men conjecture about him, wonder about him-wonder and conjecture whether he will pay.

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