The sun lay in the heavens a ball of gold, and a fine haze, like a misty golden veil, hung over the forest.

It was Indian summer.
Then Indian summer passed and winter, which was very early that year, came roaring down on Wareville.

The autumn broke up in a cold rain which soon turned to snow.

The wind swept out of the northwest, bitter and chill, and the desolate forest, every bough stripped of its leaves, moaned before the blast.
But it was cheerful, when the sleet beat upon the roof and the cold wind rattled the rude shutters, to sit before the big fires and watch them sparkle and blaze.
There was another reason why Henry should now begin to spend much of his time indoors.

The Rev.Silas Pennypacker opened his school for the winter, and it was necessary for Henry to attend.