was rather
soft' and the horse had hard pulling. We went in the field, struggling
on afoot--we little people--while Uncle Eb led the horse. He had to stop
frequently to tunnel through a snowdrift, and at dusk we had only got
half-way to the bridge from our cave in the cat. Of a sudden Old Doctor
went up to his neck in a wall of deep snow that seemed to cut us off
completely. He struggled a moment, falling on his side and wrenching
the shafts from the runners. Uncle Eb went to work vigorously with his
shovel and had soon cut a narrow box stall in the deep snow around Old
Doctor. Just beyond the hill dipped sharply and down the slope we could
see the stubble sticking through the shallow snow. 'We'll hev t' stop
right where we are until mornin',' he said. 'It's mos' dark now.

Our little house stood tilting forward about half-way down the hill, its
runners buried in the snow. A few hundred yards below was a cliff where
the shore fell to the river some thirty feet It had stopped snowing, and
the air had grown warmer, but the sky was dark We put nearly all the hay
in the sledgehouse under Old Doctor and gave him the last of the oats
and a warm cover of blankets. Then Uncle Eb went away to the fence for
more wood, while we spread the supper. He was very tired, I remember,
and we all turned in for the night a short time after we had eaten. The
little stove was roaring like a furnace when we spread our blankets on
the sloping floor and lay down, our feet to the front, and drew the warm
robes over us. Uncle Eb, who had had no sleep the night before, began
to snore heavily before we children had stopped whispering. He was still
snoring, and Hope sound asleep, when I woke in the night and heard the
rain falling on our little roof and felt the warm breath of the south
wind. The water dripping from the eaves and falling far and near upon
the yielding snow had many voices. I was half-asleep when I heard a
new noise under the sledge. Something struck the front corner of the
sledgehouse--a heavy, muffled blow--and brushed the noisy boards. Then I
heard the timbers creak and felt the runners leaping over the soft snow.
I remember it was like a dream of falling. I raised myself and stared
about me. We were slipping down the steep floor. The lantern, burning
dimly under the roof, swung and rattled. Uncle Eb was up on his elbow
staring wildly. I could feel the jar and rush of the runners and the
rain that seemed to roar as it dashed into my