nd. Wonder if he thinks it's next Christmas."

"Be careful, Anderson; mebby it's an infernal machine!" cried his wife.

"Well, it's loaded, 'y ginger," he grunted as straightened up in the
face of the gale. "Shut the door, Eva! Cain't you see it's snowin'?"

"I'll bet it was Joe Ramsey leavin' a sack o' hickor' nuts fer us," she
said eagerly, slamming the door.

"You better bolt the door. He might change his mind an' come back fer
'em," observed her husband. "It don't feel like hickor' nuts. Why, Eva,
it's a baskit--a reg'lar clothes baskit. What in thunder do--"

"Let's get a light out by the kitchen fire. It's too cold in here."

Together they sped to the kitchen with the mysterious offering from the
blizzard. There was a fire in the stove, which Anderson replenished,
while Eva began to remove the blankets and packing from the basket,
which she had placed on the hearth. Anderson looked on eagerly.

"Lord!" fell from the lips of both as the contents of the basket were
exposed to their gaze.

A baby, alive and warm, lay packed in the blankets, sound asleep and
happy. For an interminable length of time the Crows, _en dishabille_,
stood and gazed open-mouthed and awed at the little stranger. Ten
minutes later, after the ejaculations and surmises, after the tears and
expletives, after the whole house had been aroused, Anderson Crow was
plunging amiably but aimlessly through the snowstorm in search of the
heartless wretch who had deposited the infant on his doorstep. His top
boots scuttled up and down the street, through yards and barn lots for
an hour, but despite the fact that he carried his dark lantern and
trailed like an Indian bloodhound, he found no trace of the wanton
visitor. In the meantime, Mrs. Crow, assisted by the entire family, had
stowed the infant, a six-weeks-old girl, into a warm bed, ministering to
the best of her ability to its meagre but vociferous wants. There was no
more sleep in the Crow establishment that night. The head of the house
roused a half dozen neighbours from their beds to tell them of the
astounding occurrence, with the perfectly natural result that one and
all hurried over to see the baby and to hear the particulars.

Early next morning Tinkletown wagged with an excitement so violent that
it threatened to end in a municipal convulsion. Anderson Crow's home was
besieged. The snow in his front yard was packed to an icy consistency by
the myriad of footprints that fell upon it; the