e roller a fresh towel. Everything gave sign of victory,
the whole kitchen looking only a little nicer than usual. Huldah herself
was dressed for the afternoon, and so was the baby; and nobody but as
acute observers as you and I would have known that she had been in
action all along the line and had won the battle at every point, when
two o'clock came, the earliest moment at which her husband ever
returned.

Then for the first time it occurred to Huldah to look out doors and see
how fast the snow was gathering. She knew it was still falling. But the
storm was a quiet one, and she had had too much to do to be gaping out
of the windows. She went to the shed door, and to her amazement saw that
the north wood-pile was wholly drifted in! Nor could she, as she stood,
see the fences of the roadway!

Huldah ran back into the house, opened the parlor door and drew up the
curtain, to see that there were indeed no fences on the front of the
house to be seen. On the northwest, where the wind had full
sweep,--between her and the barn, the ground was bare. But all that
snow--and who should say how much more?--was piled up in front of her;
so that unless Huldah had known every landmark, she would not have
suspected that any road was ever there. She looked uneasily out at the
northwest windows, but she could not see an inch to windward: dogged
snow--snow--snow--as if it would never be done.

Huldah knew very well then that there was no husband for her in the next
hour, nor most like in the next or the next. She knew very well too what
she had to do; and, knowing it, she did it. She tied on her hood, and
buttoned tight around her her rough sack, passed through the shed and
crossed that bare strip to the barn, opened the door with some
difficulty, because snow was already drifting into the doorway, and
entered. She gave the cows and oxen their water and the two night horses
theirs,--went up into the loft and pitched down hay enough for
all,--went down stairs to the pigs and cared for them,--took one of the
barn shovels and cleared a path where she had had to plunge into the
snow at the doorway, took the shovel back, and then crossed home again
to her baby. She thought she saw the Empsons' chimney smoking as she
went home, and that seemed companionable. She took off her over-shoes,
sack, and hood, said aloud, "This will be a good stay-at-home day,"
brought round her desk to the kitchen table, and began on a nice long
letter to her brot