dying, that will
seem, perhaps, to the children of another generation like a pretty bit of
Munchausenism. Whoever has seen our Metropolitan City only under the balmy
atmosphere of a soft May-day, or under the smoky sultriness of a tropic
August--who has known our encompassing rivers only as green arms of
sparkling water, laughing under the shadows of the banks, and of
shipping--would never have known the Petersburg of a place into which our
passing winter has transformed the whole.

Only fancy our green East River, that all the summer comes rocking up from
the placid Sound, with a hoarse murmur through the rocks of Hell-Gate, and
loitering, like a tranquil poem, under the shade of the willows of
Astoria, all bridged with white and glistening ice! And the stanch little
coasting-craft, that in summer-time spread their wings in companies, like
flocks of swans, within the bays that make the vestibule to the waters of
the city, have been caught in their courses, and moored to their places,
by a broad anchor of sheeted silver.

The oyster-men, at the beacon of the Saddle-rock, have cut openings in the
ice; and the eel-spearers have plied their pronged trade, with no boat
save the frozen water.

In town, too, a carnival of sleighs and bells has wakened Broadway into
such hilarity as was like to the festivals we read of upon the Neva. And
if American character verged ever toward such coquetry of flowers and
bon-bons as belongs to the Carnival at Rome, it would have made a pretty
occasion for the show, when cheeks looked so tempting, and the streets and
house-tops sparkled with smiles.

As for the country, meantime, our visitors tell us that it has been
sleeping for a month and more under a glorious cloak of snow; and that the
old days of winter-cheer and fun have stolen back to mock at the
anthracite fires, and to woo the world again to the frolic of moonlight
rides and to the flashing play of a generous hickory-flame.

-------------------------------------

Beside the weather, which has made the ballast of very much of the salon
chat, city people have been measuring opinions of late in their hap-hazard
and careless way, about a new and most unfortunate trial of divorce. It is
sadly to be regretted that the criminations and recriminations between man
and wife should play such part as they do, not only in the gossip, but in
the papers of the day. Such reports as mark the progress of the Forrest
trial (tho