. "I heard Daddy say the
snow melted a lot last night, and I thought maybe I could find it. But
I didn't." She sighed deeply.

Meg still clung to the hope of finding her locket, though the rest of
the family had long ago given up the idea that it would ever be found.

A day or two later when the children came into the school yard they
were surprised to find a small army of snow soldiers drawn up to
receive them. There were six men in a row, headed by a captain,
wearing a rakish snow hat and carrying a fine wooden sword.

"Who did it?" asked every one. "Did Mr. Carter make 'em?"

Miss Wright was ready to tell them.

"Some poor tramp who was once a sculptor made them for you," she told
the wondering pupils. "John, the janitor, tells me that he was here
all last night keeping the fires going because he was afraid the pipes
would freeze. This poor artist saw the light, and knocked at the door
to ask if he might come in and get warm. I'm glad to say John asked
him in and shared his midnight lunch with him. Then he took him home
to breakfast with him. But first the artist made these snow men to
please you, and perhaps to see if his old skill still was left to him."

"Let us make a snow man in our back yard," proposed Bobby to Meg on the
way home from school that afternoon. "Dot and Twaddles tried it, but
there wasn't enough snow then. We can make a good one."

They found the twins ready to help them, and in a very short time they
had rolled a huge snowball that was pronounced just the thing for Mr.
Snowman's body.

"We can't make long thin legs like the soldiers," said Bobby
regretfully. "I wonder how the man made 'em like that. We'll have to
have short roundish legs for ours."

The short "roundish" legs finished, they had still to make the head.
This was done by rolling a smaller snowball and mounting it on the
large round one.

"Now he needs a face," said Dot, gazing with admiration on their work.
"How'll you make his eyes and nose, Bobby?"

"With coal," said Bobby. "Meg, will you go and get some lumps of coal?
And ask Mother if there is an old hat we can have. He ought to have a
hat."

Meg ran info the house, and was back again in a few seconds, carrying a
handful of coal done up in a bit of newspaper.

"Mother's hunting up an old derby hat," she reported. "She'll throw it
to us. Oh, Bobby, doesn't he look funny?"

The snow man was a bit cross-eyed, but he had a cheerful, companionable
l