The Goat and Her Kid | Page 6

was incrusted over with crystals of white frost; they no
longer appeared like common trees; no wood was to be seen; they
seemed to have been changed by some fairy in the night into silver, and
sprinkled with diamonds. The laurels and other evergreens had all their
leaves covered and fringed round the edges with the same silvery,
sparkling frost-work. The ivy-leaves near the window looked the best
of all; their dark green color seemed to make the jewels shine more
brightly, and then their pretty forms were shown off by all this
ornament. As Mary was fancying herself in some fairy palace, or in
Aladdin's garden, and wondering whether there was any fruit made of
precious stones hanging on the trees, her papa and mamma came down
to breakfast, and they all enjoyed the sight together. Mary's pretty
cousin, Chrissy, who had been May-Queen on the first of May, was on
a visit at the cottage, and when she came down, she was delighted too
with the beautiful sight, and thought the branches like white coral
tipped with diamonds.
While they were at breakfast, Mary asked the question which she had
asked for several mornings past. It was, "Do you think Aunt Mary, and
Thomas, and Willie will come to-day?"

"I think it quite possible that they may," said her mamma; "but
to-morrow is more likely."
"You had better try not to expect them till to-morrow, Mary," said
Chrissy.
"I will try," said Mary, "but I think I do expect them to-day. And now
let me think how many days it is before Christmas Eve will come.
Yesterday we counted it was eleven days, so to-day it is ten. Still ten
days."
"But you know, Mary, we have plenty to do first," said her mamma.
Mary nodded and smiled.
Christmas Eve was the day they kept at the cottage; because Mary's
papa and mamma always spent Christmas Day with grandmamma. She
lived in a large old house, in a country town ten miles off. Everything
in her house was clean and shining; the rooms smelt very sweet, and
grandmamma was very kind, and let the children do whatever they
liked; and her two maids were so good-natured, and petted them; and
there were always such nice cakes, oranges, and jellies. Then, in the
evenings there was sure to be a magic lantern, or a man to play the
fiddle; in short, going to grandmamma's was a very great pleasure.
Mary now asked her papa to come down to the pond, and give her
another lesson in sliding. He came out, and as they ran along they
found numbers of things to admire. Every blade of grass was fringed
with the white frost-work, and the leaves of all the weeds that grew
near the hedges looked quite pretty with their new trimming. But,
above all, the mosses in the little wood that skirted the field were most
lovely. When winter strips the trees of their leaves, then the little bright
green mosses come and clothe the roots and stems, as if to do all they
can to comfort them; and to-day they were sparkling all over, and
seemed to be dressed out for some festival. Mary and her papa stopped
before a weeping birch-tree, with the green moss growing on its silvery
white stem. After admiring it for some time, they looked up at its
branches that hung drooping over their heads. "How light and feathery
they look," said Mary. "I think they are quite as pretty as in summer."

"I think so too," said her papa. "I even think the birch more beautiful in
winter than in summer; and all the trees show us the grandeur and
beauty of their forms more when the leaves are gone. Look at their
great sweeping branches."
"Yes," said Mary, "and then all the little twigs look so pretty, and like
lace-work."
"And more than ever we must admire them," said her papa, "when we
think that in every little bud at their tips lie the young leaves folded in,
and safely shielded by this brown covering from the cold; but all ready
to burst forth when the soft spring air and sunshine tell them it is time."
Mary was delighted at this thought, and they spent a little while looking
at the different buds, particularly those of the chestnut-trees, with their
shining brown coats. Mary took great care not to break one off; she said,
"It would be such a pity the little leaves should not feel the spring air,
and come out in the sunshine."
"But, O Chrissy, what a lovely bunch of jewelled leaves you have
collected!" cried she. "O, yes, that branch in the middle will look pretty;
it has managed to go on looking like coral, and to keep its