Event date: Mar 16, 1888
Brattleboro was never lovelier, certainly, than early on Wednesday morning. The night had been perfectly still, succeeding the great storm, and three or four inches of light feathery snow had fallen, covering every tree and shrub and twig to its outmost tip, while everything below was the same pure white covering. The scene was a symbol of absolute rest and stillness, or like a vision of enchantment out of childhood’s fairyland.
