There was a new snow over the village.

Indeed, it had ceased to fall only at sunset, and it was now eight o'clock.

It was heaped apparently with the lightness of foam on the windward sides of the roads, over the fences and the stone walls, and on the village roofs.
Its weight was evident only on the branches of the evergreen-trees, which were bent low in their white shagginess, and lost their upward spring.
There were evergreens--Norway pines, spruces, and hemlocks--bordering the road along which Burr Gordon was coming.

Now and then he jostled a low-hanging bough and shook off its load of snow upon his shoulders.

Then he walked nearer the middle of the street, tramping steadily through the new snow.