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of snow here was an event。 I was nearly as excited about it this morning as the children； whom I found all peering through the nursery2 window at the magic outside and chattering as excitedly as if Christmas had suddenly e round again。 The fact is； however； that the snow was as strange and enchanting to me as it was to them。 It is the first fall we have had here this winter； and last year I was out of the country； broiling in the tropics； during the snowy season； so that it really does seem an age since I saw the ground so fantastically carpeted。 It was while I was away last year that I met the three young girls from British Guiana who had just returned from their first visit to England。 The two things that had impressed them most were the endless crowds of people in the London street； all strangers （they emphasized this； for they had spent all their lives in a little town where everybody knows everybody）； and the snow…covered landscape they awoke to； one morning when they were staying somewhere in Somerset。 They were so thrilled and delighted that they flung away any pretence of being demure young ladies and rushed out of the house to run to and fro across the glittering white expanses； happily scattering footmarks on the untrodden surface； just as the children did in the garden this morning。
The first fall of snow is not only an event but it is a magical event。 You go to bed in one kind of world and wake up to find yourself in another quite different； and if this is not enchantment； then where is it to be found？ The very stealth3； the eerie quietness； of the thing makes it more magical。 If all the snow fell at once in one shattering crash； awakening us in the middle of the night the event would be robbed of its wonder。 But it flutters down； soundless； hour aft
