p that widow across
the street who keeps the boarders. She has a hard time of it, any way,
and it's part of her business to keep things comfortable for those who
live with her."

"She wouldn't give us a cent, if we shovelled at her sidewalk all
day," grumbled Joseph.

"The other side the bed, lad! Quickly!" ordered the father, pausing on
his way to the door to see his command obeyed.

Everybody laughed, even the culprit, who had to ascend to his own
sleeping-room, get into the bed at one side--the side from which he
had originally climbed--and get out at the other. A simple operation,
and one not helpful to mother Mary's housekeeping labors; but she
never minded that, because the novel punishment always sent the
grumbler down-stairs again in good humor.

Then they all clustered about that rear window which commanded a view
of the Armacost yard, and watched their father floundering through the
drifts between the small house and the large. He disappeared around
the corner of the mansion, and mother Mary set her young folks all to
work: Molly to washing the dishes and tidying the house; while she
herself bathed and dressed the twins, stirred up a fresh lot of bread
dough, rolled out her sewing-machine, and made flying visits to the
small cellar where the three Jays were sawing and nailing and
chattering like magpies.

They were all so busy and happy that the morning flew by like magic
and dinner time came before anybody realized it. Meanwhile, the three
boys had kept their own steps passably free from the gathering snow,
and had shovelled a way into the widow's house, not once but twice.
Coal carts and milk wagons had, as father John prophesied, come out
and forced their passage through the street, and a gang of workmen,
each with a shovel over his shoulder, had made their way to the Avenue
for the purpose of clearing the car tracks. But they had not remained.
Their task was such a great one that, until the storm was really over,
there was no use in their beginning it.

Yet even these few moving figures rendered the outlook more natural,
and Molly had almost forgotten to worry over any possible suffering to
the poor, much less the rich, when her father came in and she saw, at
once, how much graver than usual he was.

"Why, father, dear! Has anything happened? Was there real trouble over
at the lady's?"

"Plenty has happened, and there is real trouble. But let's have dinner
first; and, Mary wife, when I go back I