eider-down quilted
comforter Bobby had made himself a warm nest. In this he curled in a
tight little ball. Not for worlds would he have stretched his legs down
into shivery regions, and though he was not drowsy and did not care to
sleep, not for worlds would he have left his lair before the radiator
had warmed.

So he lay there waiting and watching where the window ought to be for
the first signs of daylight. Bobby liked to amuse himself trying to
define just when the window became visible. He never could. So this
morning, some time, no time, Bobby saw a dull gray rectangle where
darkness had been, and knew that day had arrived. Over in the corner the
radiator was singing softly with the first steam. Slowly the reluctant
daylight filtered in, showing in dim outline the familiar objects in the
room.

Bobby was just dozing when an unexpected sound from outside brought him
wide awake. He sat up in bed the better to hear. Far in the distance,
but momently nearing, rang a faint jingle of bells. At the same moment
there began a methodical _scrape, scrape, scrape_ immediately outside
the house.

Without a thought of the cold air of the room, nor the warm flannel
dressing gown, nor the knit bedroom socks, Bobby leaped out and pattered
to the window. This was covered thick with frost crystals, but Bobby
breathed on them, and rubbed them with the heel of his palm, and so
acquired a sight-hole.

"Snow!" he murmured ecstatically to himself.

The outer world was very still and bathed in a cold half-light. Over
everything lay a thick covering of white. The lawn, the sidewalks, the
street, the roofs of houses were hidden by it; the top of the fence was
outlined with it; great mantles draped the post tops and the fans of the
fir tree; every branch and twig of every tree bore its burden; Martin,
wielding a very broad wooden shovel, was engaged in clearing a way to
the front gate. Just as Bobby looked out, the milkman, his vehicle on
runners and his team decorated with the strings of bells that had
aroused the little boy, drove up, dropped his hitch-weight and with the
milkman's peculiar rapid gait, trotted around to the back door. The
breath of Martin and the milkman and his two horses ascended in the
still air like steam. Bobby heard the loud shrieking of the snow as it
was trodden, and knew that it must be very cold.

He dressed and went down stairs. Amanda, with her head tied in a duster,
was putting things to rights. Bobby c