und the great opening in the woods, stood a moment, then gave a
shivering sort of a yelp, and scuttled back under the shadow of the
forest, as if its darkness was warmer than the frozen stillness of the
open space. An owl, perched somewhere amid the pine-tops, snug and
warm within the cover of its arctic plumage, engaged from time to time
in solemn gossip with some neighbor that lived on the opposite shore
of the lake. And once a raven, roosting on the dry bough of a
lightning-blasted pine, dreamed that the white moonlight was the light
of dawn, and began to stir his sable wings, and croak a harsh welcome;
but awakened by his blunder, and ashamed of his mistake, he broke off
in the very midst of his discordant call, and again settled gloomily
down amid his black plumes to his interrupted repose, making by his
sudden silence the surrounding silence more silent than before.

It seemed as if the very angels, who, we are taught, fly abroad over
all the earth that blessed night, carrying gifts to every household,
had forgotten the cabin in the woods, and had left it to the cold
hospitality of unsympathetic nature.

Within the lonely hut, which thus seemed forgotten of Heaven itself,
sat a woman huddling her young--two girls and a boy. The fireplace was
of monstrous proportions, and the chimney yawned upward so widely that
one looking up the sooty passage might see the stars shining overhead.
A little fire burned feebly in the huge stone recess: scant warmth
might such a fire yield, kindled in such a fireplace, to those around
it. Indeed, the little flame seemed conscious of its own inability,
and burned with a wavering and mistrustful flicker, as if it were
discouraged in view of the task set before it, and had more than half
concluded to go out altogether.

The cabin was of large size, and undivided into apartments. The little
fire was only able to illuminate the central section, and more than
half of the room was hidden in utter darkness. The woman's face, which
the faint flame over which she was crouched revealed with painful
clearness, showed pale and haggard. The induration of exposure and the
tightening lines of hunger sharpened and marred a countenance which a
happier fortune would have kept even comely. It had that old look
about it which comes from wretchedness rather than age, and the
weariness of its expression was pitiful to see. Was it work or vain
waiting for happier fortunes that made her look so tired? Alas