say, I know not what inexplicable and fatal power that brought on this union.” As we say good-night we carefully cover the embers with ashes, which no longer signify desolation, but the husbanding of the fire for to-morrow's cheer and warmth. Friendship is always prophetic of the morrow; its past is prophecy and promise of the morrow. CHAPTER XXVI A DAY OUT OF DOORS SI sit looking into the study-fire my glance rests on a pair of snow-shoes on the broad chimney breast, and straightway fancy flies abroad and recalls a glorious day of winter cheer and exploit. A writer of deep suggestiveness has commented on the superior advantages of the man on horseback over the man on foot; but this exalted condition, which in certain seasons gives one a delicious sense of sovereignty, affords neither advantage nor charm in the northern climate in midwinter. The man to whom all things are possible under these circumstances is the man on snow-shoes. He alone holds the key of the snow-beleaguered forests; to him alone is intrusted the right of eminent domain the privilege, in other words, of seizing for his own use the lands of his neighbours; he alone owns the landscape. Great privileges never go save in company with grave responsibilities, and not unfrequently with serious perils. No one need expect, therefore, to be put into possession of the landscape except upon conditions more or less formidable. The snow-shoe is a delightful feature of decoration; how often have we seen it effectively displayed against a proper background, and straightway, as if a door had been set ajar into another clime, the breath of winter has been upon us, the splendour of illimitable fields of snow has blinded us, and we have seen in a glance the dark line of spruce and fire as it climbs the white peak against the deep blue horizon line. But the snow-shoe has its serious and even humiliating aspects. The novice who ties it on his moccasin and goes forth for the first time in rash and exulting confidence is likely to meet with swift and calamitous eclipse. He mounts the first inviting drift of beautiful snow, only to disappear in a humiliation and perplexity from which he emerges blinded, breathless, and whiter |