ALREADY the wind had piled up great snowdrifts on the road. At first the Brownies laughed and shouted as they climbed through them.

“This is just like scaling a mountain!” shrieked Veve as she plunged from one huge mound to another. “It takes your breath though.”

Actually, the wind was at the girls’ backs, bowling them along and making walking fairly easy.

“It will be a different matter coming home,” Miss Gordon warned. “Then we must face the wind. Fortunately, we haven’t far to go.”

The girls took turns carrying the sled and the packages. They were surprised how quickly their fingers became numb through their mittens and gloves.

“Slap your hands together,” Miss Gordon advised. “That will keep them warm.”

Snow fell steadily in large flakes, dusting the girls from head to foot. Their eyelashes caked over.

164 By the time they reached the Stone cabin, Miss Gordon and her Brownies looked like a troop of walking snowmen.

As the girls rapped on the door, Mrs. Stone, who had seen them trailing through the yard, quickly opened it. A tall, thin woman, she wore a faded blue gingham dress.

Now the arrival of so many persons at one time astonished her, but she was too polite to show it. She was under the impression that the Brownies were on their way to the Gordon farm and had stopped to warm themselves.

“Come in! Come in!” she invited cordially. “You must be half frozen.”

The girls were grateful for the warmth of the stove. However, as they glanced around, they saw that the kitchen was almost bare of furniture.

“We’ve brought the children something for Christmas,” said Miss Gordon, brushing snow from her cap. “It was entirely the Brownies’ idea.”

“Here’s a new sled,” said Connie, depositing it by the tree.

Barbara, Betty and Benny, who had been staring at the Brownies, let out a whoop of joy. They rushed to examine the sled, gleefully dragging it over the bare kitchen floor.

165 “May we try it out on the hill now?” Barbara asked her mother. “It’s such a dandy sled.”

“Not right now,” said Mrs. Stone regretfully. “The storm is getting much worse. I’m afraid it may prove to be a regular blizzard.”

“Here’s something else we brought,” said Eileen, offering the stocking dolls.

“And some cookies we made,” added Rosemary, giving the box to Mrs. Stone.

The children’s eyes brightened at sight of the dolls, but the cookies seemed to please them even more.

“May we each have one now?” Betty pleaded. “It’s been ages since we’ve had anything good to eat!”

Mrs. Stone gave each of the children a chocolate brownie. The cookies disappeared almost in one bite. When the girls saw how hungry the Stone youngsters were, they were sorry they had not brought more food.

“Mrs. Stone, if you have no objection, we’ll bring you a goose or a turkey for your Christmas dinner,” Miss Gordon offered impulsively. “Grandmother Gordon has a large flock.”

At mention of Mrs. Gordon’s name a very queer expression came over Mrs. Stone’s face.

166 “Are—are you sure—” she began, and then finished quickly: “We’ll be most grateful, Miss Gordon. My husband hasn’t worked for several weeks, and he’s had bad luck with his traps. Except for your generosity, the children would have had no Christmas.”

“We’ll be back,” Miss Gordon assured her. “Now we must run along, for the snow is coming down faster by the minute.”

Mrs. Stone did not urge the Brownies to remain, for she too was alarmed by the increasing intensity of the storm.

Trooping out of the warm cabin, the girls were met by a blast of sub-zero wind which nearly swept them from their feet.

“O-o-oh!” squealed Veve. “This is awful! It’s a lot worse than it was!”

“The wind has risen a little,” Miss Gordon admitted, “and we must face it all the way to the farm. Duck your heads into your mufflers and follow me single file.”

By going ahead, Miss Gordon broke the wind for the girls, making it easier for them to walk. However, the trail they had made only a few minutes before from the roadway to the Stone cabin, already had been swept away. They had to weave in and out to avoid the larger drifts.

167 “Wait!” cried Veve just as the girls reached the road.

Everyone paused, wondering why she had called out.

“I’ve lost my mittens!” Veve informed the group. “I—I guess I left than on the table in Mrs. Stone’s kitchen.”

“The little kitten has lost its mitten,” mocked Jane. Snow was biting into her face, making her out of sorts.

“I—I didn’t notice about the mittens because I had my hands in my pockets when we left the house,” Veve mumbled. “Now my hands are simply freezing. I’ll run back and get them.”

“We’ll freeze solid if we stand here and wait!” grumbled Jane. “Can’t you go without your old mittens?”

“No. Veve will need them before we get home,” Miss Gordon said before the little girl could reply.

“I’ll go back with her,” Connie offered quickly. “It won’t take long. The rest of you walk on and we’ll catch up.”

“I don’t like to separate in this storm,” said Miss Gordon. “But ............