Introduction

This is a c b c pardcast whose woods these are. I think i know his house is in the village, though he will not see me stopping here to watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horss must think it queer to stop without a farmhouse near between the woods of rose lak. That winter, people were missing the tried and true ways for cheering up a dark evening. No dinners, no parties, no reunions. The only other sounds the sweep of dizy wind and downy flake sebe s music was calling it the year of escapism. For those lucky enough not to face the worst, escaping meant a surge and subscriptions to