Theodore Winthrop

“ I have half a mind to go into a rage with you, John, for being so utterly contented.”
“When you have your first rage, Mary Brightly, I shall have my first discontent. But I cannot scold Zero when I see what a wonderful artist he is. Look at this window. See this magic frost-landscape. It is a beautiful thought that such exquisite fancies are always in the air waiting to be discovered.” ”

“ Brightly, still couchant, watched smiling, while he took a clothes-broom and selected two straws.
“Graver matters have been decided by lot,” said Brightly. “Draw, Mary. If you get the shorter straw, it’s a girl; if the longer, a boy.” ”

“ I find a different picture on the next pane. Do you remember or two dear little ones?”
“Do we remember them?” she asked with tearful eyes.
“God knows we do! And here among these lovely frost-pictures I find a memorial of them. Shall I describe it?”
“Yes, dear John,” said she, by this time weeping abundantly.
“I see a little promontory jutting into a great river. Evergreens grow about the edges. The top is nearly clear. It is a graveyard, Mary. In one corner, under a hemlock heavy with snow, and within a railing, I see two simple white stones, such as are put over children’s graves. ”