Ben's lip was swelling a little. A tooth had cut into it. But his eyes
were clear and sparkling and his whole face was resolute. Perkins'
attempts at freeing his hands grew more feeble.

"Boys, can't you help a fellow?"

"'Twas a fair thing, Perk. You may as well own up beat. Come, no
snivelling."

Quite a crowd was gathering. There was no policeman to interfere.

Perkins made a reluctant concession. Ben sprang up and was off like a
shot. His mother met him at the door.

"Go up-stairs and put on your best clothes, Ben," she said, "and take
those down to the barn." She knew he had come off victor.

"I s'pose I'd had to do it some time," Ben thought to himself. "Mother's
awful spunky when she's roused. I hope I won't have to go on and lick
the whole crew! I just hate that kind of work."

As he came down his mother kissed him on the white forehead, but neither
said a word.

When he went in to see Mr. Theodore that evening he told him the story.
It was queer, but he would not have admitted to any one else his
mother's threat. Mr. Theodore laughed and said boys generally had to
make their own mark in that fashion. Then he thought they would try a
game of chess, as Ben knew all the moves.

Jim was surprised and delighted to hear the story the next day. He
nodded his head with an air of satisfaction.

"Ben's awful strong," he said. "He could thrash any boy of his size. But
he isn't spoiling for a fight."

A few days later there came a real snowstorm of a day and a night. Jim
sprung the old joke on Hanny "that they were all snowed up, and the snow
was over the tops of the houses." She ran to the window in her
night-dress to see. Oh, how beautiful it was! The red chimneys grew up
out of the white fleece, the windows were hooded, the trees and bushes
were long wands of soft whiteness, the clothes-line posts wore pointed
caps.

"Don't stand there in the cold," said Margaret.

They all turned out to shovel snow. The areas were full. The sidewalks
all along were being cleared, and it made a curious white wall in the
street. Mr. Underhill insisted that the boys should level theirs. Some
wagons tried to get through and made an odd, muffled sound. Then there
was the joyful jingle of bells. The sun came out setting the world in a
vivid sparkle, while the sky grew as blue as June.

Not to have snow for Christmas would have spoiled the fun and been a bad
sign. People really did believe "a green Christmas would make a fa