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[Page 60]

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are frozen over so thickly that English boys and Australiana soldiers are able to slide and in a certain measure skate there is still much snow about

Enough to transform the scenery here into those perfect Xmas scenes of England, which illustrated papers and magazines have familiarized us with for years.

This snow with its beautiful whiteness crests every feature of the landscape.

Nothing is forgotten. The soft caress, the pure clinging touch; impinges lightly, lingers, remains; and makes beautiful picturesquely manifest "A blessing from Heaven", I doubt [indecipherable] if there is anything else in the world by which it could better be done than by the soft fall of whisperless snow.

I have heard people say there is perfect silence in a snow fall they are quite wrong, for silence is too real, too loud, silence has a presence.
In a snowfall silence would be like thunder.

In a snow fall there is only awe

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