noiselessness of many a species to-day, as the deer and the moose.

The sheep, having enjoyed little shelter beside the hayrick, had
encountered the worst of the storm. When David appeared in the
stable lot, they beheld him at once; for their faces were bunched
expectantly toward the yard gate through which he must emerge. But
they spoke not a word to one another or to him as they hurried
slipping forward. The man looked them over pityingly, yet with
humor; for they wore many undesirable pendants of glass and silver
dangling under their bellies and down their tails.

"You shall come into the barn this night," he vowed within himself.
"I'll make a place for you this day."

Little did he foresee what awful significance to him lay wrapped in
those simple words. Breakfast was ready when, carrying his
customary basket of cobs for his mother, he returned to the house.
One good result at least the storm had wrought for the time: it
drew the members of the household more closely together, as any
unusual event--danger, disaster--generally does. So that his
father, despite his outburst of anger the night previous, forgot
this morning his wrongs and disappointments and relaxed his
severity. During the meal he had much to recount of other sleets
and their consequences. He inferred similar consequences now if
snow should follow, or a cold snap set in: no work in the fields,
therefore no hemp-breaking, and therefore delay in selling the
crop; the difficulty of feeding and watering the stock; no hauling
along the mud roads, and little travel of any sort between country
and town; the making of much cord wood out of the fallen timber,
with plenty of stuff for woodpiles; the stopping of mill wheels on