s the girls' school, after all, as much as it is yours," said Mr.
Carter thoughtfully. "Some of them, I imagine, will prefer to look on
from the windows; but, if I were you, I would be glad to have those who
want to play on your side."

"But Tim can't be American," insisted Bobby. "We won't be any other
country."

"Then choose colors," suggested Mr. Carter, "Why not Black and Orange?"

Mr. Carter, you see, was a Princeton man, and he thought those colors
very beautiful, as indeed they are.

Bobby overtook Tim Roon on the stairs and asked him about the colors.

"I'll be general of the Orange side," decided Tim promptly.

Tim never thought to ask any one his opinion. He always took what he
wanted for himself and did not bother to consult the wishes of others.

"Then I'll be the Black," said Bobby. "We'll have to do a lot of work
this noon to get ready. I'm glad we brought our lunch."

Tim's head was so full of snowball fights that he missed outright in
spelling, and Bobby was discovered drawing a plan of a fort when he
should have been studying his geography lesson.

"There," said Miss Mason when the noon bell rang, "now do try to get
this wonderful fight out of your minds by the time the one o'clock bell
sounds. And don't let me hear of any one going without his lunch to
play in the snow. Eat first, and then play."

Bobby looked a little guilty. He had planned to hurry out and start
the building of his fort and eat his lunch as he worked. He sat down
with Meg and bolted the good sandwiches Norah had packed, very much as
Philip sometimes ate his dinner. But then this was an exceptional
occasion. Bobby didn't usually forget his manners.

"Come on, fellows!" called Tim, as the children streamed out into the
yard. "Choose your sides--hurry up!"

As they chose their sides, Tim found, to his disgust, that he would
have to have some girls under him. These were mostly sisters of the
boys who lived in Tim's neighborhood, and though he had often pulled
their braids and otherwise teased them, still they felt that for the
honor of their home streets they were bound to fight on Tim's side.

After every one was enrolled on the Black's side or on that of the
Orange, they set to work to build the forts. Such scrambling for snow!
Such frantic scouring of corners for drifts from which to pack the
walls! And mercy, such screaming and shouting! No game was ever
played without a noisy chorus, and this was the mo