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Show FIRST SNOW " By Clifford Raymond. OUT of a gray sky a spit of snow in the morning, intimation rather than the fact of a storm, scurrying little specks, wind driven in wisps and spirals, scurrying over soft ground, swirled Into the face, subsiding, tantalizing tan-talizing with suggestions of beauty and power, beauty to cover the ground, power to impede movement but all the time merely intimation, flashing reminiscent pictures for the mind with the wisps and wind driven through the brown woods. Then a stronger wind and a real swirl of great flakes, white sport for the northeaster, earnest of drifts and knee deep paths, of the white stillness upon which Sirius shines of a winter night, token of the genial season when, of a morning, pump, wood shed and wood pile need the shovel to be reached, token of the vast quietness when the brown woods arise above the white carpet, "when spruce and fir are white and heavy, when a child's fancy returns to men with suggestions of a white world in its infancy of experience experi-ence and with its eternal promise of robust good. Fancy rides with the flakes on the wings of the northeast wind, and as the brown woods are blurred in the swirl of white, the inner vision grows keener and the perceptions kinder. ' Chicago Tribune. ,v |