forts in the school yard and have a good battle."

"The snow's fine there," said Meg, catching Mr. Wright's enthusiasm.
"It hasn't been touched since the first storm, only where the janitor
dug out the walks. I'd love to have a snowball fight."

"Girls don't snowball fight, do they?" Bobby was quite scandalized, and
appealed to Mr. Wright.

"Well, now, I don't believe they did when we were boys," admitted the
feed-store man slowly. "But times have changed, you know. I should
say that the side that lets girls have a place stands the best chance
of winning this snowball fight you're planning."

"Can we stay?" begged Twaddles and Dot, who had overheard.

"I should say not!" declared Bobby crushingly. Meg might win her
point, but he hoped he could still handle the twins. "You go straight
home. And you can tell Mother, if we don't come in early, that we're
having a snowball fight at school."

"You always have all the fun," grumbled Dot. "Why can't we stay a
little while?"

"They'll have to say lessons right up to recess time, before they can
even roll a snowball," Mr. Wright comforted the twins, driving the
sleigh up to the curb before the school-house yard. "You and I are
going to have a nice little ride while they're pegging away at their
books. How's that?"