ON the morrow, the Brownies awoke to find the house uncomfortably cold. Connie put on her slippers and robe and ran to the window to see if snow still fell.

The pane was completely frosted over in lacelike patterns. She could not see outside.

“I’m staying in bed,” announced Veve, snuggling deeper down into the covers.

“You’re getting up,” contradicted her roommate. “Grandfather Gordon isn’t here, so there’ll be lots and lots of work to do.”

“Today’s the day before Christmas,” mumbled Veve, still drowsy with sleep. “If Mother doesn’t come—”

“Of course she’ll come. All our parents will! Now stop sniveling.”

“I’m not sniveling,” Veve denied. “And just tell me how you think our parents can get here when the roads are closed! Grandfather Gordon is in182 Goshen, and our folks are due to arrive at Deerford.”

“They’ll find some way to get here. Wait and see.” Connie spoke confidently, but at that time she had not seen the wind-swept road.

A little later, when she and Veve went downstairs, they caught a glimpse of the highway and yard through a window over the landing. Snow no longer fell, but a sharp wind had raised mammoth drifts during the night.

Not only was the road blocked in places, but similar mounds of snow isolated the house from the barn and outbuildings.

When Connie opened the front door onto the porch, an avalanche of snow tumbled in on the rug. All she could see was a wall of white.

“We’re desperately short of wood, and I don’t know how to get more,” said Mrs. Gordon, who was baking pancakes. Only a few sticks were left in the nearby box.

“Can’t the Brownies shovel a path to the woodpile?” asked Connie. She wanted to help.

“We can try, but the drifts are deep. There’s the stock to feed too. If only the work crews would clear the roads with the snowplow!”

The Brownies wore their sweaters at breakfast,183 for although a fire still burned in the kitchen and on the living room hearth, cold kept creeping in.

Outdoors, the sun was bright but had no warmth. Wind kept howling about the corners of the old house.

Before the breakfast dishes were washed, Mrs. Gordon tried to telephone to Goshen. She learned then that the weight of snow and ice had broken the wire.

“Now that our telephone service is gone we’re completely isolated,” she declared. “Snowbound.”

Mrs. Gordon and the Brownie troop leader talked quietly together, deciding what must be done. They knew that in another hour or two, all the wood would be gone.

“If necessary, we can burn the furniture,” Mrs. Gordon decided. “I would hate to do it, though.”

Miss Gordon and the Brownies thought they might be able to shovel a path to the woodpile. All they had to work with was a coal shovel, for the regular snow shovel had been left at the barn.

Taking turns, they dug and dug. It was hard, slow work. After an hour of shoveling, they had not cleared a path even a third of the way.

“We’ll never be done at this rate,” said Miss Gordon.

184 Just then, she and the Brownies heard a shrill whistle. Miss Gordon lifted Connie up on her shoulders, so she could see above the top of the drift to the barn.

“Why, it’s Mr. Stone!” she shouted.

The man had snowshoed across the fields and now was shoveling away a drift which blocked the barn door.

“Hi, there!” he called. “Need help here?”

“Yes, we do!” Connie shouted in return. “Grandfather Gordon is gone, and we’re almost out of wood.”

“I’ll feed the stock, and then shovel a path to meet yours,” Mr. Stone called. “Cheerio!”

Just to know that help was near greatly relieved the minds of Miss Gordon and the Brownies. They shoveled faster, making the snow fly. Some of it tumbled back into the path, but they laughed and shouted and did not mind.

Within another hour, the Brownies’ path joined the one Mr. Stone had made.

“Hi! Ho!” he greeted the girls. “I’ve fed the stock, and now I’ll make a side path to the woodpile. You run back to the house and warm your toes.”

“How are the roads?” Miss Gordon inquired anxiously.

185 “Still blocked. The snowplows can’t do much until the snow stops drifting.”

“And how is everyone at your place?”

Mr. Stone hesitated a moment and then said with forced cheerfuln............