uite another quarter.

A deep snow followed by a week of clear cold weather seldom came more
than once during the winter in this part of the country, and the
children were wild with delight. Aunt Zelie was obliged to do a little
of the curbing that Aunt Marcia so often advised, and Bess and Louise
thought it hard that they were not allowed to hitch their sleds behind
wagons as Carl and Ikey did.

The boys first got into trouble. They began at once building forts in
their playground at school, and were soon divided into two opposing
forces, each with one of the older boys for captain.

For a time things went very well, and Carl and Ikey, though they
belonged to different sides, could discuss their battles
good-naturedly. But this did not last. One day the cry of "Not fair"
arose; someone was hurt and resented it, his friends took it up, and
all good feeling went to the winds. When the bell called them in there
were some bad bruises, and, worse still, angry looks and accusations.

On the way home the dispute ran high between Carl and Ikey. The
first-named in particular was very much excited, and declared he
wanted nothing more to do with cheats. Ikey retorted warmly, with
natural indignation, and so they parted.

About the same time discord arose among the girls.

Mr. Hazeltine had had a slide made for the children in the back yard.
It was built from the top of the stable loft, and was as good a
substitute for a hill as such an affair could be. Here they had a
grand time till one day when Elsie insisted it was her turn to slide.

"No, it is Dora's," objected Louise. "Isn't it, Constance?"

But Constance, always devoted to Elsie, was not sure. Bess and Helen
both agreed with Louise.

"I am sure it is my turn to slide," said Dora, "but if Elsie thinks it
is hers, I'd rather have her take it."

Bess had very positive ideas of fairness, however, and would not give
up. "No," she declared, "it is her turn, and we must play fair or it
isn't any fun."

"But I know it is my turn," said Elsie, equally stubborn; "Connie
thinks so too."

"Never mind, Bess," pleaded Dora.

"I _shall_ mind; for when Louise and Helen and I all say it is your
turn, and only Constance thinks it is Elsie's, you have a--a
majority, and she ought to see it."

"Yes," added Louise, admiring her sister's big word; "I think you
ought, Elsie."

"And it is _our_ slide," put in Helen very unwisely.

"That doesn't make any difference," Bess hast