[THE FAIR MAIDS OF FEBRUARY]
"The frail snowdrop
Born of the breath of Winter."
—Barry Cornwall.
GREAT many years ago, when Adam and Eve were turned out of Eden for their disobedience, Eve looked out over the bare and desolate earth and wept for the beauty she had lost.
Before this it had always been summer-time. The sun had always shone, and Eve had breathed the fragrance of the flowers, day after day, and gathered them at her own sweet will.
But now it was winter, and all was changed. The trees stood bare and leafless; no birds sang in their branches; no sweet blossoms raised their heads to catch the sun's warm rays. The skies were gray and cheerless, and ever the soft white snow kept falling silently, "like the footsteps of angels descending upon earth."
But the good God in Heaven saw Eve sit weeping, ni£, and looked down on her with pitying eyes, and turning to one of the bright angels who stood by, ready to do His bidding, He said:
