markable narrative of a snow-storm which I have ever seen was that written by James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, in record of one which took place January 24, 1790.
James Hogg at this time belonged to a sort of literary society of young shepherds, and had set out, the day previous, to walk twenty miles over the hills to the placen them and its walls, a distance of only fourteen yards. He floundered through, Hogg soon following, and, finding all the family up, they agreed that they must reachrds recovered and held out with the rest.
Two of them lost their head-gear, and Hogg himself fell over a high precipice; but they reached the flock at half-past 10. y had only one momentary glimpse of the hills through all that terrible day. Yet Hogg persisted in going by himself afterwards to rescue some flocks of his own, barelafterwards to refer the whole terrific storm to some secret incantations of poor Hogg's literary society aforesaid;
When dark December shrouds the transient da