King Winter
* * * * * Mamma sits by the fire Her little ones round her knees. "How cosy we are, Mamma," they cry, "Tell us something, if you please." [Illustration] [Illustration] "Tell us about King Winter, And about Jack Frost, his man; We'll not be noisy or naughty at all, But as good as ever we can." * * * * * "Well then;" says mamma, "you, Jenny, May knit and listen, my dear;
contemplation of eternal things; contemplation threatened by the crowd,
but a refuge even so. And so I think our life is like that of the monks
of old, who were military too, and more apt at fighting than I could
ever be. Among them, those who willed could know the joy which I now
find.
To-day I have a touching letter from Madame M----, whose spirit I love
and admire.
Changeable but very beautiful weather.
It is impossible to say more than we have already said about the
attitude we must adopt in regard to events. The important thing is to
put this attitude in practice. It is not easy, as I have learnt in these
last days, though no new difficulty had arisen to impede my path towards
wisdom.
. . . Tormenting anxiety can sometimes be mistaken for an alert
conscience.
_December 16._
Yesterday in our shelter I got out your little album--very much damaged,
alas--and I tried to copy some of the lines of the landscape. I was
stopped by the cold, and I was returning dissatisfied when I suddenly
* * * * * Mamma sits by the fire Her little ones round her knees. "How cosy we are, Mamma," they cry, "Tell us something, if you please." [Illustration] [Illustration] "Tell us about King Winter, And about Jack Frost, his man; We'll not be noisy or naughty at all, But as good as ever we can." * * * * * "Well then;" says mamma, "you, Jenny, May knit and listen, my dear;