  ALL night the snowflakes sought the earth—the snowflakes big and white— They covered up the meadows brown, they bent the bushes slight! At morn the sun with wondrous pomp came climbing o’er the hill, And lent a thousand beauties to the world so fair and still. Ruth at the old manse window stood, a wonder in her gaze, “The earth was turned to fairyland” she cried out in amaze! Her cousin Ronald laughed and said, “This is no fairyland, But a Canadian landscape clothed in beauty wild and grand.” “In Georgia you have naught like this—ice, snow and wintery gale— The southern air is warm and soft, the southern girls are pale,” Not pale the face she turned to him, in each soft cheek the red Flamed up, “You need not say a word against the south,” she said, I love the warmth of our blue sky, the bloom on every hand, Far more than all your snow-capped hills, and forests ghostly white, And mournful winds that love to play a dirge both day and night!” Thereat his father—kindly soul as ever put to sleep Both saint and sinner in the pew, with sermon long and deep— Bade him not tease a sister so, “Come, make your peace straightway, Then harness and bring out Black Bess, for on this glorious day My Ruth shall have a rare, good treat—a sleigh-ride, do you hear? The air will warm up towards noon, for see the sky is clear, Come, you should love each other well, so near of kin are you, My child, in Ronald you shall have a brother good and true.” “No brother I,” the graceless youth did hastily exclaim, Black Bess came prancing from her stall, so smooth, so shiny-skinned, Give her the rein and she would race as swiftly as the wind, She tossed her slender head and pawed the snow-drifts as she stood, And shook her bells until they chimed, so eager was her mood, “Whoa, Bess, be patient for awhile?” said Ronald, as with care He tucked the robes so thick and warm about his cousin fair. Then off they sped away—away, the snow-birds flew afraid, The frost came in the air to touch the cheeks of man and maid, The yellow sunbeams raced with them, and made a glow and gleam, Put rainbow colors on the bridge that spanned the frozen stream. A white highway they followed down into the valley wide, And whiter yet the sun-kissed hills that rose on either side; As on she sped, and on, and on—a handsome thing and fleet. But when the forest wide was reached she took a sober pace, As though to give them time to note the beauty of the place, The giant heads were crowned with snow, the giant limbs were dressed, And close about the giant girths the snowy drifts were pressed. And Ruth, a fair and radiant Ruth, said softly “This is grand; Old winter makes his home I trow, in this wide northern land, You lacked in courtesy to-day, but this ride makes amends, So Ronald now, a truce, I say; let us be loyal friends.” “No friend am I,” he said, and laughed to note her look of pride! “What boors you are, here in the north!” the angry maiden cried; “And now for home and supper warm, we’ll need them without doubt.” Homeward they flew, Black Bess as fresh as when she started out; The sun with all his gorgeous train went down behind the crest Of one tall hill, but left a glow of crimson in the west, So soft, so pure, the old world lay as the young night came down, For covered all her gardens sere, her meadows bare and brown. He spoke at length, “I will not be your brother or your friend. But I will be your lover true till life and love shall end,” The blue eyes looked into the brown, he bent his head full low, He may have kissed her tender mouth—but this no one can know. . . . . . . . . . . “Ho! Ho! this winter air is fine!” the old man cried with glee! “Did you enjoy my treat? Your cheeks are rosy as can be,” “I did,” Ruth owned, and stretched her hands out to the cheerful blaze, “I like Canadian scenery—I—like—Canadian—ways.” |
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