“Well, one can hardly tell by looking at them, whether the snow-flakes are coming down or going up, they float about so silently. They mind me of beautiful and peaceful things.”
“But, Graeme, it looks cold and dreary, and all the bonnie flowers are covered in the dark.”
“Menie! There are no flowers to be covered now, and the earth is weary with her summer work, and will rest and sleep under the bonnie white snow. And, dear, you mustna think of dreary things when you look out upon the snow, for it will be a long time before we see the green grass and the bonnie flowers again,” and Graeme sighed.
But it was with a shout of delight that the boys plunged headlong into it, rolling and tumbling and tossing it at one another in a way that was “perfect ruination to their clothes;” and yet Janet had not the heart to forbid it. It was a holiday of a new kind to them; and their enjoyment was crowned and completed when, in the afternoon, Mr Snow came down with his box-sleigh and his two handsome greys to give them a sleigh-ride. There was room for them all, and for Mr Snow’s little Emily, and for half a dozen besides had they been there; so, well wrapped up with blankets and buffalo-robes, away they went. Was there ever anything so delightful, so exhilarating? Even Graeme laughed and clapped her hands, and the greys flew over the ground, and passed every sleigh and sledge on the road.
“The bonnie creatures!” she exclaimed; and Mr Snow, who loved his greys, and was proud of them, took the oft repeated exclamation as a compliment to himself, and drove in a way to show his favourites to the best advantage. Away they went, up hill and down, through the village and over the bridge, past the mill to the woods, where the tall hemlocks and cedars stood dressed in white “like brides.” Marian had no thought of sorrowful things in her heart now. They came home again the other way, past Judge Merle’s and the school-house, singing and laughing in a way that made the sober-minded boys and girls of Merleville, to whom sleigh-riding was no novelty, turn round in astonishment as they passed. The people in the store, and the people in the blacksmith’s shop, and even the old ladies in their warm kitchens, opened the door and looked out to see the cause of the pleasant uproar. All were merry, and all gave voice to their mirth except Mr Snow’s little Emily, and she was too full of astonishment at the others to think of saying anything herself. But none of them enjoyed the ride more than she, though it was not her first by many. None of them all remembered it so well, or spoke of it so often. It was the beginning of sleigh-riding to them, but it was the beginning of a new life to little Emily.
“Isna she a queer little creature?” whispered Harry to Graeme, as her great black eyes turned from one to another, full of grave wonder.
“She’s a bonnie little creature,” said Graeme, caressing the little hand that had found its way to hers, “and good, too, I’m sure.”
“Grandma don’t think so,” said the child, gravely.
“No!” exclaimed Harry. “What bad things do you do?”
“I drop stitches and look out of the window, and I hate to pick over beans.”