"O Father! Please to come to the door, and see how pretty everything looks," exclaimed William Mason, running eagerly into the room where his father was sitting.
Mr. Mason was always glad to give his son pleasure, and he laid aside the newspaper which he was reading, and followed him to the door.
There had been quite a heavy snow-storm a few days before, which was succeeded by rain, and then by severe cold. Everything was now entirely cased in ice.
"Is it not beautiful, father?" said William. "I have been all around the yard and garden, and everything has put on its winter coat. Every little branch and twig, every blade of grass, and even the little stones are covered with ice."
"This is what we used to call a silver morning, when I was a boy," said Mr. Mason.

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