The icy sheath was now upon things less pure than itself.

The sleet fell where cold and cheerlessness seemed to be the natural state of things.

Few people ventured into the streets, and those few looked and moved as if they felt it a sad morning, which probably they did.

The very horses stumbled along their way, and here and there a poor creature had lost footing entirely and gone down on the ice.

Slowly and carefully picking its way along, the stage-coach drew up at last at its pace in Court St.
The disease had spent itself, or Winthrop's excellent constitution had made good its rights; for he got out of the coach feeling free from pain, though weak and unsteady as if he had been much longer ill.