The Milk-boy in Winter

The Milk-boy too in his morning rambles no longer saunters to the pasture as he had used to do in summer (pausing on every pathway flower & swanking idly along    often staring with open mouth thoughtlessly musing on the heavens as if he could wish for somthing in the passing clouds     leaning his lazy sides gainst every stile he come{s} to and can never get his heavy cloutred shoon over the lowest without resting     sighing as he retires with the deepest regret to leave such easy chairs) – 

But now in hasty claumping tried finding nothing but cold & snow to pause on he never stops to cawm his thoughtless head about – but shuffling along he make{s} the frosty plain reecho with his hasty bruzzing foot-steps – the stiles which were so hard to climb over in summer are now scald with the greatest ease and he wishes for nothing but his journey's end – prefering the sheltering warm confines of the farm yard and stables before the frozen plain

Nor MS 4 pp 56-59
(The beauties of the winter forest)