The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1871-02-03
The Pleasures of Winter.


The Pleasures of Winter.
Hawthorne, after spending a winter
in Rome, declared that thereafter he
would, if possible, pass the inclement
season in some part of the globe where
it is recognized as legitimate institu-
ton. Hawthorne has not been the
| only traveller who has descanted upon
! the discomforts of winter when expert
enced in q climate where frost is but an
irregular and uncertain visitor. Ohm
sted, in his accounts of his winter ira
wells in Texas, describes feelingly some
of the sufferings he underwent from the
cold northers," against which the i'm.
perfectly constructed houses afforded
very inadequate protection. Winter,
indeed, is only an affection in places or
with people where or with whom there
is no suitable means for guarding against
its rigors. To we'll fed, we'll housed,
well clothed people, winter is as de
lightful as any other season OF the year.
It's pleasures, of course, are essentially
different from those of summer, but
they are no less vivid and no less genu-
inc. Not to mention those of out-of.
door sports, such as skating and sleigh.
ing, and are unexcelled by any of other
seasons, it is withindoo that the win
ter supplies us with some of its best de
lights. In summer the hilltop. the
brook-side, the garden, the porch, the
open window-all places, in fact, that
afforded us quiet and pleasant air, have
equal charms upon our affection /; but it
is only in winter that we come to under
stand the full significance of the word
home. When the storm is shaking our
easements, and the night is black and
dangerous, then, within the drawn cur
tains and around the blazing fire, we
discover how secure, and glowing, and
peaceful, and rich in affections are
hearth and home" Just as in spring
the first blossoms give us delight, so in
winter does the fire, when first lighted,
give us singular pleasure. Perhaps of
all our boyhood recollections those of
the old winters fireside are the keenest
and most delightful. When the first
snow fall comes this season, let the
reader take down his copy of Whittiers
Snow-bound," and read the poem by
the brisk blaze of cracking logs, with
the sound of the outward blast reaching
his ear in melancholy menace, and see
what relish the old-fashioned picture
will have for him. BY the brisk blaze
of cracking logs Alas if he reads it
ali, in all probability it will be over the
hot air of a register, or by the burnt
iron of stove. Firesides and hearth.
stones are things of the past, and with
their departure have gone nearly all the
best charms of winter home. Modern
life is surrounded with good many
conveniences, but every innovation in
our households seems to signalize the
death of some treasured pleasure. Your
furnace, no doubt, diffuses an even
warmth through the house, but, in shut
ting up the fireplace, it scatters the
household and breaks up the old time
family circle. 1t drives out of the home
an artist who was wont to paint deli
cious pictures on your walls, and tint
the cheeks of your dear ones with rare
glow. 1t excludes friend whose bright,
sparkling chatter once entertained you
many long evening, and whose blaze
and glow rarely failed to fill your heart
with cheerfulness and gratitude.
There are few old fashioned people
who cling to wood fires, but many of the
younger generation remain ignorant of
what was once the greatest charm of
winter home. "Coal" says Ike Marvel,
"may have its uses in the furnace,
which takes off the sharp edge of win.
ter from the whole interior of the house,
and keeps up day and night struggle
with Boreas for the mastery, but coun-
try home without some one open chin.
ney around which, in time of winter
twilight, when SHOWS are beating against
the panes, the family may gather and
watch the fire flashing, and cracking,
and flaming, and waving, until the
girls clap their hands and the boys
shout in a kink of exultant thankful.
ness, is not worthy the name. apple
toms Journal