almost arrived now."

"Up with it then," cried the doctor, seizing the snow, and lifting it to
the top of the door. "Hand me those bits of stick, Harry; quick, man,
stir your stumps.--Now then, skipper, fix them in so, while I hold this
up."

The skipper lent willing and effective aid, so that in a few minutes the
snow was placed in such a position that upon the opening of the door it
must inevitably fall on the head of the first person who should enter
the room.

"So," said the skipper; "that's rigged up in what I call a ship-shape
fashion."

"True," remarked the doctor, eyeing the arrangement with a look of
approval; "it will do, I think, admirably."

"Don't you think, skipper," said Harry Somerville gravely, as he resumed
his seat in front of the fire, "that it would be worth while to make a
careful and minute entry in your private log of the manner in which it
was put up, to be afterwards followed by an account of its effect? You
might write an essay on it now, and call it the extraordinary effects of
a fall of snow in latitude so and so, eh? What think you of it?"

The skipper vouchsafed no reply, but made a significant gesture with his
fist, which caused Harry to put himself in a posture of defence.

At this moment footsteps were heard on the wooden platform in front of
the building.

Instantly all became silence and expectation in the hall as the result
of the practical joke was about to be realised. Just then another step
was heard on the platform, and it became evident that two persons were
approaching the door.

"Hope it'll be the right man," said the skipper, with a look savouring
slightly of anxiety.

As he spoke the door opened, and a foot crossed the threshold; the next
instant the miniature avalanche descended on the head and shoulders of a
man, who reeled forward from the weight of the blow, and, covered from
head to foot with snow, fell to the ground amid shouts of laughter.

With a convulsive stamp and shake, the prostrate figure sprang up and
confronted the party. Had the cast-iron stove suddenly burst into atoms
and blown the roof off the house, it could scarcely have created greater
consternation than that which filled the merry jesters when they beheld
the visage of Mr Rogan, the superintendent of the fort, red with
passion and fringed with snow.

"So," said he, stamping violently with his foot, partly from anger, and
partly with the view of shaking off the unexpected covering,