e."

"I will!" promised his grandfather with a laugh. "We'll make a big snow
man and a snow house and have all sorts of good times."

"What's snow made of?" asked Violet, who had been pressing her nose
against the car window, looking out at the telegraph poles that seemed
to whiz past so quickly.

"It's frozen rain," said Daddy Bunker.

"Who freezes it?" went on Violet. "Does the ice-cream man freeze the
rain to make snow?"

"No, it freezes up in the air--in the clouds," her father explained.

"Well, what makes it come down?" went on Violet. "Rain comes down 'cause
it's heavy. Once a raindrop splashed in my eye and it felt terrible
heavy. But snow isn't heavy at all. It's light like a feather. What
makes snow and feathers fall when they aren't heavy, Daddy?"

"Oh, now, my little girl is asking too many questions," said Daddy
Bunker with a laugh. "Some time, when you are a little older, I'll tell
you why it is that things fall, whether they are heavy or light. Things
even lighter than snowflakes fall as easily as a chunk of lead, but, as
you say, a snowflake is like a feather. It falls from side to side, like
a leaf, and not as fast as a drop of rain. But I do believe we shall
have snow soon," he went on. "The storm clouds are beginning to gather,"
and he looked up at the sky.

"I don't mind traveling in the snow, but I don't like it in the rain,"
said Mother Bunker. "And we must expect snow, as it will soon be
winter."

The six little Bunkers amused themselves in different ways in the car,
as the train puffed on, over hills and through valleys, to Grandpa
Ford's home at Great Hedge. As Daddy Bunker had said, the clouds were
gathering, and they seemed to hold snow, which might soon come down
with a flurry.

"But it can't hurt us," said Mun Bun, "'cause we're in the train."

"I have a new riddle," announced Laddie, after a while.

"Have you?" asked Grandpa Ford. "Well, let's hear it. I'll try to guess
it."

"Why is a train like a boy?" asked the little fellow.

"That's a funny riddle!" exclaimed Russ. "A train isn't like a boy at
all. It's too big and it isn't alive."

"Well, it goes," said Laddie; "and anything that goes is almost alive,
anyhow."

"Is that why you made a riddle about a train and boy?" asked Grandpa
Ford. "A train is like a boy because it goes. Is that it, Laddie?"

"Nope! It's 'cause a train can whistle and so can a boy," said the
little chap with a laugh. "Isn't that a good riddle?