Meg pulled off her hat and unbuttoned her coat.

"I'm starving," she announced. "It's awfully cold out. What are you
doing anyway, Twaddles?"

"Sliding down the banisters," answered Twaddles calmly. "See, we
spread down sofa cushions so 's we wouldn't hurt ourselves. It's Dot's
turn now. Hi, Dot!" he ended in a shout.

"Here I come--look out!" With a swish of pink gingham skirt a small,
plump little girl came flying down the banister to land luckily on a
red satin sofa cushion ready to receive her.

"Well, I must say," announced Meg with dignity, "that's a fine way to
do--using Mother's best sofa cushions! Where's Norah?"

"Gone to the movies," replied Dot, pushing the hair out of her eyes and
smiling sunnily. "She waited till she saw you turn the corner, 'cause
she said she wouldn't leave us alone."

Twaddles, who had been pressing his short nose against the glass in the
door panel hoping to see his mother coming with the promised gift,
suddenly wheeled and tried to stand on his head. That was Twaddles'
way of expressing delight. "It's snowing!" he cried. "Little fine
snowflakes, the kind that Daddy says always last. Oh, I hope we have
coasting. I'll bet it snows all night."

"You said that Thanksgiving," retorted Bobby gloomily, "and it just
snowed enough to cover the ground one night and melted 'fore we were up