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RURAL HOURS.

Such severe weather as this the turkeys can hardly be coaxed down from their roost, even to feed; they sometimes sit thirty-six hours perched in a tree, or in the fowl-house, without touching the ground. They are silly birds, for food would warm them.

Saturday, 13th.—Quite mild; bright sky; soft air from the southwest. Pleasant walk on the lake; just enough snow on the ice first formed, for a mile or so, to make the footing sure. Beyond this the ice is clear, but unusually rough, from having frozen of a windy night when the water was disturbed.

The clear, icy field, seen in the distance, might almost cheat one into believing the lake open; it is quite blue this afternoon with reflections of the sky. But we miss the charming play of the water.

Monday, 15th.—Yesterday was a delightful day; soft and clear. To-day it rains. We always have a decided thaw this month; “the January thaw,” which is quite a matter of course. The lake is watery from the rain of Saturday night, which has collected on the ice, lake above lake, as it were. The hills and sky are clearly reflected on this watery surface, but we feel rather than see, that the picture is shallow, having no depth.

Tuesday, 16th.—The days are growing, as the country people say, very perceptibly. It is surprising how soon one observes a difference in this respect. According to the almanac, we have only gained a few minutes morning and evening—scarcely enough, one would think, to make any impression—but one marks the lengthening afternoons at once. We seem to have gained half an hour of daylight at least. This is always the first pleasant change in the new year.