the valley; the snow-images that were to be shaped out; the snow-
fortresses that were to be built; and the snow-balling to be carried on!

So the little folks blessed the snow-storm, and were glad to see it come
thicker and thicker, and watched hopefully the long drift that was
piling itself up in the avenue, and was already higher than any of their
heads.

"Why, we shall be blocked up till spring!" cried they, with the hugest
delight. "What a pity that the house is too high to be quite covered
up! The little red house, down yonder, will be buried up to its eaves."

"You silly children, what do you want of more snow?" asked Eustace, who,
tired of some novel that he was skimming through, had strolled into the
play-room. "It has done mischief enough already, by spoiling the only
skating that I could hope for through the winter. We shall see nothing
more of the lake till April; and this was to have been my first day upon
it! Don't you pity me, Primrose?"

"O, to be sure!" answered Primrose, laughing. "But, for your comfort,
we will listen to another of your old stories, such as you told us
under the porch, and down in the hollow, by Shadow Brook. Perhaps I
shall like them better now, when there is nothing to do, than while
there were nuts to be gathered, and beautiful weather to enjoy."

Hereupon, Periwinkle, Clover, Sweet Fern, and as many others of the
little fraternity and cousinhood as were still at Tanglewood, gathered
about Eustace, and earnestly besought him for a story. The student
yawned, stretched himself, and then, to the vast admiration of the
small people, skipped three times hack and forth over the top of a