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    The Snow-Image A Childish Miracle
    The Snow-Image A Childish Miracle
    The Snow-Image A Childish Miracle
    Ebook50 pages33 minutes

    The Snow-Image A Childish Miracle

    By Marcus A. Waterman and Nathaniel Hawthorne

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    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 26, 2013

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      Book preview

      The Snow-Image A Childish Miracle - Marcus A. Waterman

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Snow-Image, by Nathaniel Hawthorne

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

      Title: The Snow-Image

      A Childish Miracle

      Author: Nathaniel Hawthorne

      Illustrator: Marcus Waterman

      Release Date: October 31, 2009 [EBook #30376]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SNOW-IMAGE ***

      Produced by David Edwards, Sam W. and the Online Distributed

      Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was

      produced from images generously made available by The

      Internet Archive.)

      THE

      SNOW-IMAGE:

      A CHILDISH MIRACLE.

      BY

      NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.

      NEW YORK:

      JAMES G. GREGORY, 540, BROADWAY.

      M DCCC LXIV.

      C. A. ALVORD, STEREOTYPER & PRINTER, NEW YORK.

      A CHILDISH MIRACLE.

      NE afternoon of a cold winter’s day, when the sun shone forth with chilly brightness, after a long storm, two children asked leave of their mother to run out and play in the new-fallen snow. The elder child was a little girl, whom, because she was of a tender and modest disposition, and was thought to be very beautiful, her parents, and other people who were familiar with her, used to call Violet. But her brother was known by the style and title of Peony, on account of the ruddiness of his broad and round little phiz, which made everybody think of sunshine and great scarlet flowers. The father of these two children, a certain Mr. Lindsey, it is important to say, was an excellent, but exceedingly matter-of-fact sort of man, a dealer in hardware, and was sturdily accustomed to take what is called the common-sense view of all matters that came under his consideration. With a heart about as tender as other people’s, he had a head as hard and impenetrable, and therefore, perhaps, as empty, as one of the iron pots which it was a part of his business to sell. The mother’s character, on the other hand, had a strain of poetry in it, a trait of unworldly beauty—a delicate and dewy flower, as it were, that had survived out of her imaginative youth, and still kept itself alive amid the dusty realities of matrimony and motherhood.

      So, Violet and Peony, as I began with saying, besought their mother to let them run out and play in the new snow; for, though it had looked so dreary and dismal, drifting downward out of the gray sky, it had a very cheerful

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