Weekly Minnesotian and times., 1859-12-31
Winter Scenes.
E'ONTAINE.

The following from the Chicago journal is
worthy of being placed beside the winter
sketches of Jacob Abbott and Nathaniel Z.
Willis:
That old red sleigh with its long box that
never was full, for down in the straw, wrap
ped in the robes, or on one or another of the
four seats it contained, there was also room
for one more. What grouping of bright
young faces there used to be in it Faces in
hoods, in caps and in blankets; hearts that have
loved since hearts that have broken; hearts
that have mouldered. And away we went
over the hill, and through the vale, under the
moonlight, and under the cloud when the
stars were looking down; when the sun kim
died the world into a great white jewel .
but those days have gone forever away, and
the sweet old necklace of bells, big in the
middle of the string, and growing small by
degrees, has lost its power over the pulses.
In that old Sleigh brides have gone away
before Ow-those that were married to man
hood, those that were married unto death"
Great ships have gone over the waters with
less of hope and happiness, than the rude
craft has borne over the pillows of winter -
swanlke shapes now glance along the arrow
way, but give us, for its sweet memories of
yesterday, the old red sleigh.
Then, the days when we were Coasters ;"
and down the big hill, by the maple wood,
through the little pitches, far into the valley
we came with merry shout each, the solitary
Panurus of his own small craft. How like
a flock of swallows we were, dashing down
the decivity, in among group of sleds, side
by side with rival, shooting by like an ar
row, steering in calamity ahead, like Jockey,
and on our way mp with sled in tow, ere
the party had reached the valley below
And then it was when the wind had swept
away the snow from pond and stream, and
the ice was glare, that we put on the rockers
and darted hither and thither, and cut skies
and Fights, and curves without number, and
drew the girls that we loved and whirIed them
like leaves over the highway of crystal.
And the schools where we spelt each other
down, and the schools where we sang Wind
ham and Near, and the schools where we
cyphered and wrote, and event up;' gone,
all gone teacher and taught, like the melting
SHOWS under the rainbows of April
And when, sometimes after the great snow,
the winds came out of the north for frOlic,
what wreathings and carvings of the cold Al
abaster there were. What corinthian adorn-
ings surmounted the fence posts; what moul-
dings were fashioned beside the way; what
fairy like caves in the drifts what flowers of
rare finish ard pendants of pearls on the
trees.
Have you quite forgotten the footprints we
used to find in the damp snow; as delicate,
some of them, as love letter; the mysteri-
Gus paths down to the brook or by the old
hollow tree, that we used to wonder over and
set figure fours," by, ifperchance, we might
catch the makers thereof? Have you quite
forgotten how sorry you were fora the snow
birds that f1uttered among the fakes, and
seemed tossing and lost in the Storm
And there in the midst of that winter,
Christmas was set, that made the Thanks
giving last all through the night of the year,
and what wonder the stars and the fires burn
ed more brightly therefor Christmas with
its gifts and its cheer; it's carol and charm
its evergreen branch and it's bright morning
dreams. Christmas, when there were prints
upon the chimney tops if we were only there
to see them, where Santa Claus set his foot
as the clock struck twelve. Christmas, when
stockings were suspended by hearth and by
pillow all over the land; stockings silken and
white; stockings homely and blue, and even
the little red sock with a hole in the toe.-
Blessed forever be Bethlehems star