It was the butcher. How had he got in?

"Excuse me, marm, for coming in at the side door, but the back
gate is kinder blocked up. You were making such a pounding I
could not make anybody hear me knock at the side door."

"But how did you make a path to the door?" asked Mr. Peterkin.
"You must have been working at it a long time. It must be near
noon now."

"I'm about on regular time," answered the butcher. "The town
team has cleared out the high road, and the wind has been down
the last half-hour. The storm is over."

True enough! The Peterkins had been so busy inside the house they
had not noticed the ceasing of the storm outside.

"And we were all up an hour earlier than usual," said Mr. Peterkin,
when the butcher left. He had not explained to the butcher why he
had a pickaxe in his hand.

"If we had lain abed till the usual time," said Solomon John, "we
should have been all right."

"For here is the milkman!" said Elizabeth Eliza, as a knock was
now heard at the side door.

"It is a good thing to learn," said Mr. Peterkin, "not to get up any
earlier than is necessary."