The mercury was very little above zero as I sought the woods to reap the full benefit of this wonderful transformation of Nature. Just two days ago she wore her usual garb of neutral tints; but what a magical change the Frost King had wrought in this time! The earth was now covered with a white mantle of snow and every tree and shrub had on a glittering armor of sleet. A few minutes’ brisk walk over the crisp snow brought me to a corn field, and by wending my way along a path through this field I arrived at a strip of woodland. Here the path merged into a narrow wagon road cut out of a steep bluff. The entrance to this road introduced me to a land of enchantment. On either side the face of the bluff was covered with a tangled growth of shrubs, briers and weeds, while above were trees whose over-arching branches sparkled in the sun, showing all the colors of the rainbow. Every branch and twig was decked with gems—rubies, sapphires, emeralds and diamonds everywhere—and diamond dust formed a carpet underneath. The low bushes at the base of the bank where sheltered from the wind’s disarranging blast, were wrapped in finest ermine. Just in front of me, to the left, was a wild rose, a fountain of purest crystal, the effect heightened by its scarlet hips. A little further on was a small tree draped with a tangled vine with clusters of pendant fruit, like crystallized grapes. On the other hand were raspberry canes, the livid red gleaming through the dazzling frost, and all around was goldenrod, more resplendent than when its golden blossoms lighted the way in autumn, and the asters shone like jewel-rayed stars. A barbed-wire fence, as far as the eye could reach, was converted into endless strings of pearls. I gazed upon this vision until, becoming dazzled, I turned from the sun to rest my eyes, and in the background saw trees that formed pearly silhouettes against the dark blue sky. Was any enchanted land more entrancing? Turning again, I resumed my walk to the foot of the hill, and, by the aid of the bushes and saplings, scrambled up its precipitous face and pushed onward through the underbrush, parting the interlacing branches as I went until I reached a ravine. I continued onward, recognizing the familiar trees everywhere; though divested of foliage and incased in crystal, each variety has its distinctive form and bark. A musical tinkle accompanied every movement as I brushed the twigs and grasses along the way.