"You'll kill your horses." "Meaning?" I queried.
"I see you are getting your cutter ready," he replied. "If I were you, I
should stick to the wheels." I laughed. "I might not be able to get back
to work." "Oh yes," he scoffed, "it won't snow up before the end of
next month. We figure on keeping the cars going for a little while yet."
Again I laughed. "I hope not," I said, which may not have sounded very
gracious.

At ten o'clock every bolt had been tightened, the horses' harness and
their feed were ready against the morning, and everything looked good to
me.

I was going to have the first real Christmas again in twenty-five years,
with a real Christmas tree, and with wife and child, and even though
it was a poor man's Christmas, I refused to let anything darken my
Christmas spirit or dull the keen edge of my enjoyment. Before going
out, I stepped into the office of the stable, slipped a half-dollar into
the hostler's palm and asked him once more to be sure to have the horses
fed at half-past five in the morning.

Then I left. A slight haze filled the air, not heavy enough to blot out
the stars; but sufficient to promise hoarfrost at least. Somehow there
was no reason to despair as yet of Christmas weather.

I went home and to bed and slept about as soundly as I could wish. When
the alarm of my clock went off at five in the morning, I jumped out of
bed and hurried down to shake the fire into activity. As soon as I had
started something of a blaze, I went to the window and looked out. It
was pitch dark, of course, the moon being down by this time, but it
seemed to me that there was snow on the ground. I lighted a lamp and
held it to the window; and sure enough, its rays fell on white upon
white on shrubs and fence posts and window ledge. I laughed and
instantly was in a glow of impatience to be off.

At half past five, when the coffee water was in the kettle and on the
stove, I hurried over to the stable across the bridge. The snow was
three inches deep, enough to make the going easy for the horses. The
slight haze persisted, and I saw no stars. At the stable I found, of
course, that the horses had not been fed; so I gave them oats and
hay and went to call the hostler. When after much knocking at last
he responded to my impatience, he wore a guilty look on his face but
assured me that he was just getting up to feed my team. "Never mind
about feeding," I said "I've done that. But have them harnessed and
hitched up by