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ll lent its Christian tone 30 To the savage air; no social smoke Curled over woods of snow-hung oak; A solitude made more intense By dreary-voiced elements-- The shrieking of the mindless wind, The moaning tree boughs swaying blind, 5 And on the glass the unmeaning beat Of ghostly finger tips of sleet. --_Snow-Bound._ 1. Outline, stanza by stanza, the story told. Who tells it? Where is the scene laid? How many days and nights are covered? 2. Compare this with the previous poem for clearness, pleasant sound, pictures shown, new ideas. Which do you like better? The last line of "The Snowstorm" interprets lines 14-25, page 197. How? 3. John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892) was born at Haverhill, Massachusetts. _Snow-bound_, from which this extract is taken, gives a good description of his home and family. A great deal of his writing was done while editor of various magazines and newspapers. He was for a long time connected with the _Atlantic Monthly_. Many of his poems describe country life in New England; others retell old stories of pioneer days. He died at Amesbury, Massachusetts. TOM PINCH'S RIDE BY CHARLES DICKENS It was a charming evening, mild and bright. The four grays skimmed along, as if they liked it quite as well as Tom did; the bugle was in as high spirits as the grays; the coachman chimed in sometimes with his voice; the wheels hummed cheerfully in unison; the brass work on 5 the harness was an orchestra of little bells; and thus as they went clinking, jingling, rattling smoothly on, the whole concern, from the buckles of the leaders' coupling reins to the handle of the boot, was one great instrument of music. Yo-ho! Past hedges, gates, and trees; past cottages, and barns, and people going home from work. Yo-ho! Past donkey chaises drawn aside into the ditch, and empty carts with rampant horses whipped up at a bound upon the little watercourse and held by struggling carters close to 5 the five-barred gate until the coach had passed the narrow turning in the road. Yo-ho! By churches dropped down by themselves in quie
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