the enchantment of a night
like this. Tomorrow he would do better.

The three Spirits met and talked together. They would go back to
the cities and begin anew. They would bring the spell of the woods back
with them and teach men unknown things.

A NEW Era was about to be born.

* * * * *

MORNING dawned cold and raw, a bleak gray light shone in the deserted
streets. The three Spirits returning from their wandering all too soon
forgot the magic spell of the woods--the snow--the Moon--and fell to
work once more among the sordid things of the day; making Art and
History and Philosophy only grayer--darker--

AND in the woods where all was beauty, the Moonbeams shone only for the
fairies as they danced under the trees, and now and then for a wistful
human soul that had strayed into the splendor of the night.

THE DREAM MUFF [_To I. K. McF._]

ONE more day of horror had ended for Russia. At this hour once the lamps
along the Neva would have been lighted, the laughter of sleigh-riders
would have resounded over the snow. But now the streets were
dark--deserted save by some wandering homeless people, seeking refuge in
the night.

NO one seemed to know exactly what had happened--or the cause--

THERE was no ruler--no order--

DARKNESS and chaos.

A GIRL, perhaps of twelve, sat huddled in a ragged shawl on the steps of
a closed church.

THERE had been a time when a fire burned--

A MOTHER--a father--

BROTHERS--

THEY had gone--no one knew where. The mother was royalist.

SHE used to sew for a great lady--a Princess.

PERHAPS the jailers of a prison could tell where she was.

ONCE--in the life that was only a memory--was it real--or was the biting
cold--was the hunger what had always been--her mother had taken her to
the house of the great lady--

HER eyes had opened in childish wonder, as the Princess took her from
room to room.

ON a great couch of palest blue, among cushions that were all lace and
blue and pink--a muff.

IT had been carelessly thrown down--she had loved it.

HER greatest desire had been to touch it--to feel the soft gray fur on
her face.

A PIERCING wind blew from the frozen river--the muff--if it would come
it would keep her warm--

SHE would put her hand in it and hold it to her heart.

THROUGH half-closed lids she saw the muff--curving and swaying in the
air--like a gray bird.

IT was looking for her--there were so many freezing ch