as he approached, the snow-birds took to flight. the little white damsel, also, fled backward, shaking her head, as if to say, "pray, do not touch me!" and roguishly, as it appeared, leading him through the deepest of the snow. once, the good man stumbled, and floundered down upon his face, so that, gathering himself up again, with the snow sticking to his rough pilot-cloth sack, he looked as white and wintry as a snow-image of the largest size. some of the neighbors, meanwhile, seeing him from their windows, wondered what could possess poor mr.