too deep
between the back door and the barn to try to shovel a path through it.
As fast as we toss the snow away it blows in again and fills up the path
so we can hardly get back to the starting place. Now if we begin in
front of the house, where there is a big drift, we can tunnel out to the
side of the barn."

"What good will that do?" asked Aunt Jo.

"When we make a tunnel it will have a top on it, like a roof over a
house. It will be a long snow house, the tunnel will, and the snow
can't blow in and fill it up."

"But what will you do with the snow you dig out of the tunnel?" Mrs.
Martin enquired. "You'll have to dig ahead and pile the snow back of you
and you'll be just as badly off."

"No," said her husband. "In front of the house is a big drift that goes
all the way to the barn. But one side of the drift, near the house, is
low and we can make a hole there to start. Then as we dig away the snow
we can bring it back to this hole and dump it outside. If we work long
enough we'll have a tunnel right through to the barn."

"In what will you carry the snow out of the tunnel?" asked Aunt Jo.

"In the big clothes baskets," answered Daddy Martin. "A tunnel is the
only way I can see by which we can get out to the barn. Come on, Uncle
Frank! If your feet are warm enough we'll begin. The horse and cow will
be glad to see us."

"Can't you make a place so the children can watch you?" asked Mother
Martin. "I can't have them in the playroom now as the window is broken.
Scrape off some snow around the front windows so they can see what
you're doing."

"We will," promised Uncle Frank.

So before he and Daddy Martin began to dig the tunnel they made a
cleared place in front of one of the parlor windows so a view could be
had of the big drift where the tunnel was to be started.

"Oh, I wish I could dig!" cried Ted.

"So do I!" echoed Janet.

"Don't you Curlytops open any more windows, or try to get out where your
father and Uncle Frank are making the tunnel," warned Mrs. Martin. "This
storm is getting worse instead of stopping."

So the children stayed by the window and watched.

With their big, wooden shovels and the big clothes baskets in which to
pile the snow they dug from the tunnel, Daddy Martin and Uncle Frank
started off to their work.

As the children's father had said, there was a large drift near the
front of the house. On one side it sloped sharply to the ground, making
a sort of snow wall, almost s