vanished. The earth was white, as far as the eye could reach
--splendidly, dazzlingly white. And out of the white radiance
rose the great dark pile of masonry called Solheim, with its tall
chimneys and dormer-windows and old-fashioned gables. Round
about stood the tall leafless maples and chestnut-trees,
sparkling with frost and stretching their gaunt arms against the
heavens. The two horses, when they swung up before the great
front-door, were so white with hoar-frost that they looked shaggy
like goats, and no one could tell what was their original color.
Their breath was blown in two vapory columns from their nostrils
and drifted about their heads like steam about a locomotive.

The sleigh-bells had announced the arrival of the guests, and a
great shout of welcome was heard from the hall of the house,
which seemed alive with grownup people and children. Ralph
jumped out of the sleigh, embraced at random half a dozen people,
one of whom was his mother, kissed right and left, protesting
laughingly against being smothered in affection, and finally
managed to introduce his friend, who for the moment was feeling a
trifle lonely.

"Here, father," he cried. "Biceps, this is my father; and,
father, this is my Biceps----"

"What stuff you are talking, boy," his father exclaimed. "How
can this young fellow be your biceps----"

"Well, how can a man keep his senses in such confusion?" said
the son of the house. "This is my friend and classmate, Albert
Grimlund, alias Biceps Grimlund, and the strongest man in the