ith you in crocodile, and take your
side in arguments with your room-mates.

The spring term at Brackenfield proved bitterly cold. In February the
snow fell thickly, and one morning the school woke to find a white
world. In Dormitory 9 matters were serious, for the snow had drifted in
through the open window and covered everything like a winding-sheet. It
was a new experience for the girls to see dressing-tables and
wash-stands shrouded in white, and a drift in the middle of the floor.
They set to work after breakfast with shovels and toiled away till
nearly school-time before they had made a clearance.

"I feel like an Alpine traveller," declared Chrissie. "If things go on
at this rate the school will have to provide St. Bernard dogs to rescue
us in the mornings."

"The newspapers say it's the worst frost since 1895," remarked Sylvia.

"I think it's the limit," groused Betty. "Give me good open hunting
weather. I hate snow."

"Hockey'll be off," said Marjorie. "It's a grizzly nuisance about the
match on Saturday."

Though the usual outdoor games were perforce suspended, the school
nevertheless found an outlet for its energies. There was a little hill
at the bottom of the big playing-field, and down this the girls managed
to get some tobogganing. They had no sleds, but requisitioned tea-trays
and drawing-boards, often with rather amusing results, though
fortunately the snow was soft to fall in. Another diversion was a mock
battle. The combatants threw up trenches of snow, and, arming themselves
with a supply of snowballs, kept up a brisk fire until ammunition was
exhausted. It was a splendid way of keeping up the circulation, and the
girls would run in after this exercise with crimson cheeks. At night,
however, they suffered very much from the cold. Open bedroom windows
were a cardinal rule, and, with the thermometer many degrees below zero,
the less hardy found it almost impossible to keep warm. Marjorie, who
was rather a chilly subject, lay awake night after night and shivered.
It was true that hot bricks were allowed, but with so many beds to look
after, the maids did not always bring them up at standard heat, and
Marjorie's half-frozen toes often found only lukewarm comfort. After
enduring the misery for three nights, she boldly went to Mrs. Morrison
and begged permission to be taken to Whitecliffe to buy an india-rubber
hot-water bag, which she could herself fill in the bath-room. Part of
the Empress's succe