y seem to linger an
instant in view, and then vanish sportively, as if amused at the
expense of impotent mortals."

"I can't hear 'em laugh," said Joe.

"And then," continued Glenn, "although beyond human consciousness,
there may be heavenly sounds in the air--the melody of aerial harps
and fairy voices--to which our ears may be sealed, when, perchance,
our vicinity to their presence may inspire the peculiar sensation I
now experience."

"I heard a heap of curious sounds one warm sunshiny morning," said
Joe; "but when I asked an old fellow jogging along the same road what
they meant, he said the day before had been so cold when the
stage-driver went by that his wind froze as it came out of the bugle,
and was just then thawing."

"If such beings do exist," continued Glenn, paying no attention to
Joe, "it would delight me to commune with them face to face."

"I see a buck's head!" cried Joe, looking down the dell, where the
object he mentioned was distinctly observable amid a cluster of
spicewood bushes, whence a slight jingling sound proceeded as the
animal plucked the nutritious buds bent down by the innumerable
icicles.

"Why should not the sylvan gods"--continued Glenn.

"Hush! I'm going to fire!" said Joe.

"Why should they not resort hither," said Glenn, unmindful of Joe,
"where no meaner beings abide?"

Joe fired, and Glenn started in astonishment, as if he had had no
intimation of his companion's intention.

"Hang it all! Isn't he going to die, I wonder?" said Joe, after the
buck had made one or two plunges in the snow, his sharp hoofs piercing
through the crust on the surface, and with much struggling extricated
himself and stood trembling, and looked imploringly at his foe.

"What in the world are you about?" exclaimed Glenn, casting a listless
glance at the deer, and then staring his companion in the face.

"Whip me if there was any lead in the gun!" said Joe. "I drew the
bullets out yesterday, and forgot to put them in again. But no
matter--he can't run through the snow--I'll kill him with the butt of
my musket."

"Move not, at your peril!" said Glenn, authoritatively, when Joe was
about to rush on the defenceless buck.

"I do believe you are out of your head!" said Joe, staring Glenn in
the face, and glancing at the tempting prize, alternately.

"At such an hour--in such an elysian place as this--no blood shall be
spilled. It were profanity to discolor these pearly walks with clotted
gore