New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1851-01-18

IN the garden the cnlI0 ma run hCrOhs NC btiOS~
IN play with them. So this kind lady went to
the door. intending to invite the little runaway
into her comfortable Parlori for, now that the
sunshine was withdrawn, the atmosphere, out Of
doors, was already growing very cold
But. after opening the house door, she stood an
instant on the threshold, hesitating whether sue
ought 70 ask the child 20 come IN, or whether u
were real child after all, or only light wreath
OF the new.fallen snow, blown hither and tnltnef
about the garden BY the intensely cold west VIM
There was certainly something very singular IA
the aspect Of the little stranger Among all the
children of the neighborhoOd, the lady could re-
member DO such face, with It's pure white, ana
delicate rose.color aud the golden nDgets tossing
about the forehead and cheeks. And as for her
dress which was entirely OF white, and huttering
in the breeze, it was such as no reasonable woman
would put upon 1.-THE GIRL when sending ne1 OUT
70 plav. in the depth of Winter. 1t made this kind
and careful mother shiver, only 70 look at those
small feet with nothing in the world on them ex-
capt very thin pair of white slippers. Never
theless airily as she was clad, the child seemed
10 feel not the slightest inconvenience IRON the
cold, but danced so lightly over the snow that the
tips Of her toes left hardly print in its surface
while Violet could but just keep pace with her.
and PeoDys short legs compelled him to lag De-
hind.
Once, in the course Of their play, the strange
child placed herself between Violet and Peony,
and taking hand of each, skipt merrily forward,
and they along with her. Almost immediately,
however, Peony pulled away his little list and
began TO rub it as il the fingers were tnglng
with cold; while Violet also released herself,
though with less abruptness gravely remarklng
that it was better not 20 take hold Of hands. The
white-robed damsel said not word, but danced
about, Just as meuily as before. If Violet and
Peony did not choose to play with her. she could
make just as good a playmate OF the orSk ana
cold west wind, which kept blowing her all about
the garden, and took such liberties with her that
thew seemed to have been friends for long time.
All this while, the mother stood on the threshold,
wondering how little girl could look so much
like fying snow-driit, or how a snow DRIFT could
look so very like little girl
She called Violet, and whispered to her.
"Violet, nay darling, what is this chlds name
asked she. "Does she live near Us"
why dearest mamma" answered Violet,
laughing to think that her mother aid not COM
prehend so very plain an affair, this is our little
snow sister. whom we have Just been making"
"Yes, dear mamma cried PeOny, running to
bis mother and looking up simply into her race.
"This is our snow-imsgel Is it not nice little
chid?'
AT this instant, flock of snow-birds came fit
ting through the air. AS was very natural they
avoided Violet and Peony. But-and this looked
strange-they few at once to the white-robed
child futtered eagerly about her head, aighted
on her shoulders, and seemed to claim her as an
old acquaintance. She, on her part, was evident
ly as glad to see these LITTLE birds, old Winters
grand children, as they were TO see her, and wei
coined them by holding out both her hands
Hereupon they each and all tried to alight on her
two palms and ten small fingers and thumbs,
crowding oneanother of, with an immense fiat.
tering of their tiny wings One dear little bird
nestled tenderly in her bosom; another put its
bill to her hP'. They were as joyous, all the
while, and seemed as much in their element. as
YOU may have seen them when sporting with a
snow storm.
Violet and Peony stood laughing at this pretty
sight; for they enjoyed the merry time which
their new playmate was having with these small
winged vistants, almost as much as II they them
selves took part in it.
"Violet," said her mother, greatly perplexed,
tell me the truth, without any jest Who is
this little girlP
INV darling mamma" answered Violet, look
ing seriously into her mothers face, and appar-
emily surprised that she should need any further
explanation, " l have told you truly who she is.
IL is our little snow.image, which Peony and L
have been making. Peony will tell you so, as
well as l."
Eyes mammal asseverated Peony, with
much gravity in his crimson little phlz This is
little snow.Child. Is not she nice one? But,
mamma, her hand is, oh, so very cold J"
While mamma still hesitated what to think and
what to do, the street gate was thrown open and
the father of Violet and PeOny appeared, wrapt
in q pilot cloth sack, with a fur-cap drawn down
over his ears, and the thckest of gloves upon his
hands Mr.. Lindsey was middle.aged man.
with weary, and yet happy look In his wind
flushed and frost pinched face, as If he had been
busy all day long, and was glad to get back TO his
ouiet home His ewes frightened at the sight of
his wife and children, although he could not help
uttering q word or two of surprise at finding the
whole family IN the open air. on so bleak day,
and after sunset too. He soon perceived the
little white stranger, sporting TO and fro in the
garden, like dancing snow wreath. and the flock
of snow birds futterDg about her head.
"Pray, what little girl may that be- inquired
this very sensible man Surely her mother must
be crazy to let her 60 out in such bitter weather
as it has been today, with only that fimsy white
gown, and those thin slippers
"My dear husband" said his wife, I" know no
more about the little thing than you do. Some
neighbors child, / suppose. Our Violet and Peo-
ny, she added, laughing at herself for repeating
so absurd story, insist that she is nothing but
a snow-image, which they have been busy about
in the garden, almost all the afternoon"
AS she said this, the mother glanced her eyes
toward the spot where the childrens snowimage
had been made. What was her surprise, on per-
ceiving that there was not the slightest trace of
go much labor mo image at alls-no .piled-up
heap Of snow nothing whatever, save the prints
Of little footsteps around vacant space.
"This is very strange" said she.
"Whst is strange, dear mother" asked Violet.
"Dear father do you see how it is This is our
snow. image, which Peony and l have made, be-
cause we wanted another playmate. Did not we,
PeoDy ?"
ayes, papa said crimson PeOny. This be
our title snow.sster. Is not she beautiful
But she gave me such cold kiss"
'Poh, nonsense, children" cried their good,
honest father, who, as we have already minated,
had an exceedingly common-sensible way OF
looking at N alters. d" Do not tell me Of making
live figures out Of snow. Come wife this little
stranger must not stay out in the bleak air mo-
ment longer. We viii bring her into the parlOr;
and you shall give her a supper Of warm bread
and milk, and make her as comfortable as you
can. Meanwhile, l will inquire among the neigh
bors or, if necessary, send the city crier about
the streets, to give notice of lost child