The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1885-12-18
UNDER THE SNOW.
The Queer Way in Which Fam
lily Spent Christmas.

'And don't forget the Christmas dim
ner, papa" said Willie.
Especially the chickens for the piem
put in Nora.
"An the raisins," piped up little Tot,
standing on tip-toe to give papa a good
bye kiss.
Il hate to have you go, George, 80 said
Mrs. Barnes, anxiously. at looks to
me like storm"
30, / guess it won't be much" said
Mr.. Barnes, lightly, ''and the young
sters must have their Christmas dinner,
you know"
"Well," said Mrs. Barnes, ''remem-
Der this, George, if there is a bad storm
don't try to come back. Stay in the
village till it is over. We can get along
alone few days Can't we, Willieq''
turning to the boy who was giving the
last touches to the harness of Old Tim,
the horse. .....
80, yes! papa, can take care of
mamma, " said Willie, earnestly
"And get UP the Christmas dinner
out of nothingP" asked papa, smiling.
II don't know" said Willie, hesitaf-
ing, as he remembered the proposed
dinner in which he felt q deep interest.
"What could you do for the chicken
pieP" went ON papa, with a roguish
look in his eye, "or the plum pud-
dingp"
Cor the raisins!" broke in Tot, anx-
iously.
"Tot has set her heart on the rails
ms, said papa, tossing the small
maiden up higher than his head, and
dropping her all laughing on the door
step, ''and Tot shall have them sure,
If papa can find them in s.. Now
goodbye all! Willie, remember to take
care OF mamma, and | depend on you
to get up Christmas dinner if | don't
get back, Now wife don't worry"
were his last words as the faithful old
horse started down the road
Mrs. Barnes turned one more glance
to the west, where low, heavy bank
OF clouds was slowly rising, and went
into the little house to attend to her
morning duties,
willie" she said, when they were
all in the snug little log cabin in which
they lived, I'm sure there's going to
be storm, and it may be snow. You
had better prepare enough wood for
ttwo or three days; Nora will help
bring it in.
Me, too! " said grave little Tot.
Yes, Tot may help, too" said
mamma,
This simple little house ON the
prairies away out West was busy
place, and soon every one was hard at
work, 1t was late in the afternoon be-
fore the pile of wood, which had been
steadily growing all day, was high
enough to satisfy Willie, for now there
was no doubt about the coming storm.
and, being but few days before Christ
mas, 1t would probably bring snow, no
one could guess how much, in that
country of heavy storms.
II wish the village was not so far off,
so that papa could get back tonight, =
sad Willie, as he came in with his last
load,
Mrs. Barnes glanced out of the win
cow Broad scattering snowhakes
Were silently falling, the advance
guard, she felt them to be, of numer-
GUS host.
$50 do |, " she replied anxiouslv, cor
that he did not have to come over that
dreadful prairie where it is so easy to
get lost"
But Old Tim knows the way, even in
the dark, said Willie, proudly. II
believe he knows MORN some folks
mo doubt he does about the wav
home, said mamma, land we won't
worry about papa, but have cur supper
and 60 to bed. That'n make the time
seem short"
The meal was soon eaten and cleared
away, the fire carefully covered up on
the hearth and the whole little family
quietly in bed. Then the storm which
had been making ready all day came
down upon them in earnest The bleak
wind hOwled around the corners. the
white lakes by millions and millions
came with 1t and hurled themselves
upon that house. In fact, that poor
little cabin alone on the wild prairie
seemed to be the object of their sport.
They sifted through the cracks in the
walls, around the windows and under
the door, and made pretty little drifts
on the floor. They piled up against it
outside, covered the steps and then the
door, and then the windows, and then
the root, and at last buried it complete
ly out of sight under the soft white
mass,
And all the time the mother and her
three children laid snugly covered up
in their beds fast asleep, and knew
nothing about it.
The night passed away and morning
came, but no light broke through the
windows of the cabin. Mrs. Barnes
woke at the usual time, hut finding it
still dark and perfectly quiet outside,
she concluded that the storm was over.
and with sigh of relief turned over to
sleep again. About eight o'clock,
however, she could sleep no more, and
became wide-awake enough to think
the darkness strange. At that moment