is simple little home was a busy place, and soon every one was hard
at work. It was late in the afternoon before the pile of wood, which had
been steadily growing all day, was high enough to satisfy Willie, for
now there was no doubt about the coming storm, and it would probably
bring snow; no one could guess how much, in that country of heavy
storms.

"I wish the village was not so far off, so that papa could get back
to-night," said Willie, as he came in with his last load.

Mrs. Barnes glanced out of the window. Broad scattering snowflakes were
silently falling; the advance guard, she felt them to be, of a numerous
host.

"So do I," she replied anxiously, "or that he did not have to come over
that dreadful prairie, where it is so easy to get lost."

"But old Tim knows the way, even in the dark," said Willie proudly. "I
believe Tim knows more'n some folks."

"No doubt he does, about the way home," said mamma, "and we won't worry
about papa, but have our supper and go to bed. That'll make the time
seem short."

The meal was soon eaten and cleared away, the fire carefully covered
up on the hearth, and the whole little family quietly in bed. Then
the storm, which had been making ready all day, came down upon them in
earnest.

The bleak wind howled around the corners, the white flakes by millions
and millions came with it, and hurled themselves upon that house. In
fact, that poor little cabin alone on the wide prairie seemed to be
the object of their sport. They sifted through the cracks in the walls,
around the windows, and under the door, and made pretty little drifts on
the floor. They piled up against it outside, covered the steps, and then
the door, and then the windows, and then the roof, and at last buried it
completely out of sight under the soft, white mass.

And all the time the mother and her three children lay snugly covered up
in their beds fast asleep, and knew nothing about it.

The night passed away and morning came, but no light broke through the
windows of the cabin. Mrs. Barnes woke at the usual time, but finding it
still dark and perfectly quiet outside, she concluded that the storm was
over, and with a sigh of relief turned over to sleep again. About eight
o'clock, however, she could sleep no more, and became wide awake enough
to think the darkness strange. At that moment the clock struck, and the
truth flashed over her.

Being buried under snow is no uncommon thing on the wide prairies, a