which I stayed, but the other gave me a view of a thoroughfare, and by
this window I sat through many a bleak winter day, watching the
passers-by. One night there was a sleet, and when I looked out the next
morning, everything was covered in a gray coat of ice. A young maple
grew directly under my window, and its poor head was bent over as though
in sorrow at the treatment it had to endure, and its branches hung
listlessly in their icy case, with a frozen raindrop at the end of each
twig. The sidewalks were treacherous, and I found some amusement in
watching the pedestrians as they warily proceeded along the slippery
pavement, most of them treading as though walking on egg-shells. There
went an old gentleman who must have had business down town, for I had
seen him pass every day. This morning he carried a stick in his hand,
and I discovered that it was pointed with some sharp substance that
would assist him, for every time he lifted it up, it left a little white
spot in the coating of ice. There went a schoolboy, helter-skelter,
swinging his books by a strap, running and sliding along the pavement in
profound contempt for its dangers. A jaunty little Miss with fur wraps
and veiled face, but through the thin obstruction I could plainly see
two rosy cheeks, and a pair of dancing eyes. Her tiny feet, likewise,
passed on without fear, and she disappeared. Heaven grant they may rest
as firm on every path through life!

Next came an aged woman, who moved with faltering feet, and always kept
one hand upon the iron fence enclosing the small yard, as a support.
Each step was taken slowly, and with trepidation, and I wished for the
moment that I was beside her, to lend her my arm. Some errand of mercy
or dire necessity called her forth on such a perilous venture, and I
felt that, whatever the motive be, it would shield her from mishap. And
so they passed, youth and age, as the day wore on. In the afternoon the
old gentleman re-passed, and I saw that his back was a little more
stooped, and he leaned heavier on his stick. For each day adds weight to
the shoulders of age.

And now a miserable cur came sniffing along the gutter on the opposite
side of the street. His ribs showed plainly through his dirty yellow
coat, the scrubby hair along his back stood on end, and his tail was
held closely between his legs. And so he tipped along, half-starved,
vainly seeking some morsel of food. He stopped and looked up, shivering
visibly as the