e dancing classes--brought even the
most bashful boys out upon the floor. There were no wallflowers, for
Carrie was a good hostess and, after all, had picked her company with
some judgment.

The girls began dancing with their furs and coats on; but soon they
threw their wraps aside, for the barn floor seemed as warm as any
ballroom.

They had lots of fun in the "grand march," and with a magic-lantern one
of the boys flashed vari-colored lights upon the crowd from the
loft-ladder at the end of the barn.

Suddenly Mr. Poole put a band record in the machine, and as the march
struck up, the great doors facing the house were rolled back. They had
been dancing for more than two hours. It was after ten o 'clock.

"Oh!" shouted the girls.

"Ah!" cried the boys.

The snow was now drifting steadily down, and between the illumination by
the colored slides in the lantern, and that from the blazing windows of
the big house, it was indeed a scene to suggest fairyland!

"Into the house--all of you!" shouted Mr. Poole. "Boys, assist your
partners through the snow."

"Come on! Come on!" shouted Carrie, in the lead with Neale O'Neil.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"

"Charge for the _eats_, they said!" added Agnes. "Oh--ow--ouch! over my
shoe in the snow."

"And it's we-e-e-et!" wailed another of the girls. "Right down my neck!"

"'Be-you-ti-ful snow! He may sing whom it suits--
I object to the stuff 'cause it soaks through my boots!'"

quoted Agnes. "Hurry up, you ahead!"

So the march was rather ragged--more in the nature of a raid, indeed.
But they had to halt at the side door where the two maids stood armed
with brooms, for Mrs. Poole did not propose that the crowd should bring
in several bushels of snow on their feet.

In the dining and sitting-rooms were long tables, and all loaded with
good things. There were no seats, but plenty of standing room about the
tables. Everybody helped everybody else, and there was a lot of fun.

Some of the girls began to be troubled by the storm. They made frequent
trips to the windows to look out of doors. Soon wraps appeared and the
girls began to say good-night to their young hostess.

"I don't see how we're ever going to get home!" cried one of the girls
who lived at the greatest distance.

Farmer Poole had thought of that. He had routed out his men again, and
they harnessed the horses to a big pung and to two smaller sleighs.

Into these vehicles piled both boys and