Every bush and little twig was
loaded and hung down its head. The bodies and limbs of the trees were
alike covered and the boughs bent down under the heavy load of icy
armor. Icicles, glistening like jewels, hung from the eaves of the
house, from the fence rails, and from the limbs of our little fruit
trees. The currant brush, the rose bushes, the briers and prickly ash
were all encased in ice. From the points and ends of all the boughs,
small and large, icicles formed and hung down like tapers. To the point
of each was hanging a silver-like gem which had been frozen fast while
in the act of dropping.
Some of the trees were loaded so heavily that the limbs broke off and
went tearing down to the earth in a heterogeneous mass. The limbs broke
in pieces and their icy coat and icicles broke up like glass.
The next morning the "Whirl-dance of the blinding storm" of sleet had
passed away, but it had left its impression behind. There was formed a
crust on the little snow left which gave it a shining coat, transparent
as crystal. It was most beautiful. The sun shone clear and bright and
cast his golden rays across the face of nature.
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