th, hanging on the edge of yellowish clouds and growing
stronger, until about noon it flooded everything with gold, and the
heavens were one broad sheet of blue magnificence.

Doris did not go to school in the morning. There were no broken paths,
and boys and men were busy shoveling out or tracking down.

"It is a heavy snow for so early in the season," declared Uncle
Leverett. "We are not likely to see bare ground in a long while."

Doris thought it wonderful. And when Uncle Winthrop came the next day
and took them out in a big sleigh with a span of horses, her heart beat
with unwonted enjoyment. But the familiarity little James evinced with
it quite startled her.

Thanksgiving Day was a great festival even then, and had been for a
long while. Christmas was held of little account. New Year's Day had a
greater social aspect. Commencement, election, and training days were in
high favor, and every good housewife baked election cake, and every
voter felt entitled to a half-holiday at least. Then there was an annual
fast day, with church-going and solemnity quite different from its modern
successor.

The Hollis Leveretts, two grown people and four children, came up early.
Sam, or little Sam as he was often called to distinguish him from his
two uncles, was a nice well-grown and well-looking boy of about ten.
Mrs. Hollis had lost her next child, a boy also, and Bessy was just
beyond six. Charles and the baby completed the group.

Uncle Leverett made a fire in the best room early in the morning. Doris
was a little curious to see it with the shutters open. It was a large
room, with a "boughten" ingrain carpet, stiff chairs, two great square
ottomans, a big sofa, and some curious old paintings, besides a number
of framed silhouettes of different members of the family.

The most splendid thing of all was the great roaring fire in the wide
chimney. The high shelf was adorned with two pitchers in curious
glittering bronze, with odd designs in blue and white raised from the
surface. The children brought their stools and sat around the fire.

Adjoining this was the spare room, the guest chamber _par excellence_.
Sometimes the old house had been full, when there were young people
coming and going, and relatives from distant places visiting. Electa and
Mary had both married young, though in the early years of her married
life Electa had made long visits home. But her husband had prospered in
business and gone into public life,