How well I recollect the kind of day it was! I smell the fog that hung about the place; I see the hoar-frost, ghostly, through it; I feel my rimy hair fall clammy on my cheek; I look along the dim perspective of the schoolroom, with a sputtering candle here and there to light up the foggy morning, and the breath of the boys wreathing and smoking in the raw cold as they blow upon their fingers, and rap their feet upon the floor.
hOw WeLL i recoLlect THe Kind Of DAy It was! i Smell the Fog That hung aboUt tHe pLaCe; i see The hoAr-frost, GhOsTly, througH IT; I FEEl my riMY haIR fall clAmmy ON my cheEk; I LOOk AlOnG thE dIm peRspective OF The schoOLroom, witH a sPUttering CandlE herE and therE To ligHt Up thE foggy moRnING, AND tHe brEATh of thE bOyS wreAthIng anD smoKiNg in the raw COLD As ThEy bLoW upon theiR fingerS, AND raP tHeir fEeT uPon the flOor.