But, by-and-by, the clouds covered the sky; a light rain began to fall. The wind changed to the north-east, and the air became cold. The drizzle was converted into snow, which soon fell thick and fast. The old sheep began to feel alarmed, but it was dark, and she did not like to travel across the woods and fields, to her home, at midnight. So she lay still. But the storm continued. The air was full of snow, and in the morning it was a foot deep. Dick looked out of the window, and, anxious for his sheep and lamb, ran out to the barn. He could not find them. He looked in this place and that, but he could nowhere discover them. At length, with tears in his eyes, he ran back to the house, and told his sad story. Having taken breakfast, he and his brothers went to look for Nan. All the forenoon they spent in the search, but it was vain. The day passed, and the storm increased. (_To be finished in our next._) [Illustration: MERRY’S MUSEUM. APRIL, 1843. Vol. V. No. 4.] The Seasons. WINTER. Winter is a noisy, blustering, bustling season, though in general he keeps himself cool. Even as early as November he seems already impatient to begin his sway. If you leave a door ajar, he slams it wide open and comes puffing in, and blows the newspaper into the fire, oversets the clothes-horse, and cuts sundry other capers of the sort. He takes advantage of every still night to steal into the garden and pinch off the heads of the flowers. He mounts every black cloud, and from it sends down a flurry of sleet, hail or snow. In December he clutches the reins of government, and in a few days, ――――congeals every brook, That murmured so lately with glee, And places a snowy peruke On the head of each baldpated tree; * * * * * And a black wreck of clouds is seen to fly In broken shatters through the frighted sky. SPRING.