The roof of the barn is covered; and the leaking eaves show dark stains
of water that trickle down the weather-beaten boards. The pear-trees,
that wore such weight of greenness in the leafy June, now stretch their
bare arms to the snowy blast, and carry upon each tiny bough a narrow
burden of winter.
The old house-dog marches stately through the strange covering of earth,
and seems to ponder on the welcome he will show,--and shakes the flakes
from his long ears, and with a vain snap at a floating feather he stalks
again to his dry covert in the shed. The lambs that belonged to the
meadow flock, with their feeding-ground all covered, seem to wonder at
their losses; but take courage from the quiet air of the veteran sheep,
and gambol after them, as they move sedately toward the shelter of the
barn.
The cat, driven from the kitchen-door, beats a coy retreat, with long
reaches of her foot, upon the yielding surface. The matronly hens
saunter out at a little lifting of the storm, and eye curiously, with
heads half turned, their sinking steps, and then fall back, with a quiet
cluck of satisfaction, to the wholesome gravel by the stable-door.
By-and-by the snow-flakes pile more leisurely: they grow large and
scattered, and come more slowly than before.
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