It was a brave little house with a big, tumbledown barn and fields that sloped into forests beyond. The days were bright with snow, the nights forbiddingly dark.

“Farewell bright sun, ” she cried, stretching out her arm towards it； and then she walked a short distance from the house； for the corn had been cut, and only the dry stubble remained in the fields.

But if you're lucky enough to be in one of these top fields, your job future is still quite bright.