How strange it should bo that this beautiful snow

Huould fall on a sinner with nowhere to go I

How strange it should be, when the night cornea

again,

If the snow and tho ico struck my desperate brain;

Fainting,

Freezing,

Dying alone ;

Too wicked for prayer, tot weak for moan .

To be heard in tho crazy town,

Gone- mad in the joy of tho snow coming down ;

To lie and die in my terriblo woo

With a bed and a xurond of the beautiful snow J

NEWS ITEMS.

A rolling mill and nail factory is to be

built