snug logcabin. outside, where the garden was yesterday, there is now a white and glistening level, and the village beyond is no longer your own familiar cluster of roofs but a village in an old german fairy-tale. you would not be surprised to learn that all the people there, the speetacled postmistress, the cobbler, the retired school master, and the rest, had suffered a change too and had become queer elvish beings, purveyors of invisible caps and magic shoes. you yourselves do not feel quite the same people you were yesterday. how could you not when so much has been changed? there is a curious stir, a little shiver of excite-ment, troubling the house, not unlike the feeling there is abroad when a journey has to be made. the children, of course, are all excitement but even the adults hang about and talk to one another longer than usual before setting down to the day's work. nobody can resist the windows. it is like being on board a ship.
第一场雪
第一场雪不仅是一件大事