or a dozen years or more.

"Boys, do you recollect the dinner we had a year ago to-night?" This
from Livingstone.

The others nodded. They were remembering that, too, perhaps.

"Then the bread line afterward?" said Perner. "We gave them a nickel
apiece all around, and were going to give them a dollar apiece to-night.
And now, instead of that--"

"Instead of that," finished Van Dorn, "we can go down to-night and get
into the line ourselves. Light up, Stony; we'll take a look at your
picture, anyhow."

There was a brisk, whipping sound against the skylight above them. It
drew their attention, and presently came again. Livingstone arose
hastily.

"Sleet!"

He spoke eagerly, and looked up at the glass overhead. Then he added in
a sort of joyous excitement:

"Fellows, let's do it! Let's go down there and get into the line
ourselves! I've been waiting for this sleet to see how they would _look_
in it. Now we're hungry, too. Let's go down and get into the line and
see how it _feels_!"

Van Dorn and Perner stared at him a moment to make sure that he was in
earnest. There was consent in the laugh that followed. The proposition
appealed to their sense of artistic fitness. There was a picturesque
completeness in thus rounding out the year. Besides, as Livingstone had
said, they were hungry.

They set forth somewhat later. There was a strong wind, and the sleet
bit into their flesh keenly. It got into their eyes and, when they
spoke, into their mouths.

"I don't know about this," shouted Van Dorn, presently. "I think it's
undertaking a good deal for the sake of art."

"Oh, pshaw, Van, this is bully!" Livingstone called back. He was well in
advance, and did not seem to mind the storm.

Perner, who was tall, was shrunken and bent by the cold and storm. His
voice, however, he lifted above it.

"Art!" he yelled. "I'm going for the sake of the coffee!"

The line that began on Tenth Street had made the turn on Broadway and
reached almost to Grace Church when they arrived. The men stood
motionless, huddled back into their scanty collars, their heads bent
forward to shield their faces from the sharp, flying ice. Strong
electric light shone on them. The driving sleet grew on their hats and
shoulders. Those who had just arrived found it even colder standing
still. Van Dorn's teeth were rattling.

"Do you suppose there's always enough to go round?" he asked of Perner,
who stood ahead of him.

Talking was not pleasant,