snow house," cried Flossie.

"Can't we take the snow man into the snow house?" Freddie wanted to
know. "That'll be more fun than dolls. And we can make believe the
snow house gets on fire, and I'll be a fireman and put it out. Oh,
let's play that!" he cried, his eyes shining in fun.

"Yes, anything like playing fireman suits you," returned Bert. "But it
would be pretty hard even to _pretend_ a snow house was burning.
Snow can't catch fire, Freddie!"

"Well, we could make believe!" said the little fellow. "Anyhow, I'm
going to start to make a snow man, and you can make the snow house."

"And I'll get my doll!" added Flossie, starting toward the house, her
little fat legs and feet making holes in the snow drifts as she tried
to hurry along.

"Wait, I'll carry you," offered Nan. "You're getting so fat, little
fairy, that you'll look like a snow man yourself, if you keep on."

"Are snow mans always fat?" asked Flossie.

"They always seem to be," Nan said, as she lifted up her little sister
in her arms. Snap, the dog, came flurrying through the snow after
them. "My, I can hardly carry you!" panted Nan, for Flossie was indeed
growing fast, and was heavy.

However, Nan managed to carry Flossie over to a path Mr. Bobbsey had
told Sam, who was Dinah's husband, to shovel through the snow that