The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1892-09-23

iron shovel lay close to the outer kitchen
door. Dove set the bucket down for
moment beside it. This meant a little
pause to get up her courage, for the
roar of the wind and the swirl of the
binding snow would have daunted
stronger heart than hers, even If braced
up by vigorous physique. Dove knew
from sad experience that she must in
evitably freeze at so low record as
thirty degrees below zero; and then, how
was she to stand up in storm such as
this.
''Its got to be DONE" said Dove,
grimly. II dare say it's not half so bad
as it looks"
She pulled the fur cap close over her
ears, tied wooden cloud over her face
to protect eyes and nose, and pulled the
heavy arctics over her boots. There
was no further excuse for moments
pause, so she grasped the bolt of the door
and slid it back.
The wind the tore door so furiously from
her hand that poor Dove, after an effort
at balance, found herself, bucket, shovel
and all in drift beside the threshold.
Now, it is a very easy matter to fall into
drift, but it requires judgement to as
sist one to get out of it, as struggling to
TlS6 mClCly OuO OAAO
snow bank. But here the bucket stood
friend in need; Dove rose on its firm
basis and took step EDWARDS. Fortu-
nately the snow was wind driven towards
the fence, and, therefore, not more than
two feet on the path between the kitchen
and the shed.
"Just my luck" said Dove, apt to con-
slider herself fortunate in small things;
so she struggled valiantly along with the
iron shovel tor staff, and the bucket
for balance. The situation to any but
the robust was one of danger-for the
blast of the billiards deadly in its icy
penetration; the snow swept EDWARDS by
its wide spreading wings, cut like knife,
and in turning her back on it i'll order to
take breath, Dove found her garments
ektemporized into sails, which drove her
towards the snowbank by the fence,
where she must have persisted. Well, it
is hardly romantic to owe ones life to a
bucket and a heavy iron shovel, but
Dove knows we'll how much was due to
these humble friends during that strug-
gle for existence, between the kitchen
and the shed door.
This door, somewhat sunken, was
choked with fine snow, and frozen so
that it would not give space to nudge
to enter. Dove, breathless but valiant,
set the bucket down, and taking the
spade as a gathering ram, plunged
against the rickety door. 1t gave way at
the hinges and came down with a clatter.
Meantime, the bucket had settled into
the snow and was frozen there; when it
was at ZENITH dug out, the bottom was so
lumpy with humps of ice that it could
not be induced to stand, and the coal
that Dove laborously shoYelled in tumb-
led out in manner that would have ex-
asperated saint. By this time another
calamity threatened her; her feet and
hands were numbed, and unless she
could speedily get up the circulation, they
would undoubtedly freeze.
What happened in the next minutes
remains ever kind of nightmare, of
working against impossibilities; but the
next thing she distinctly remembers was
the weight of the bucket, which she had
to carry with both hands and set down at
every step. The minutes seemed hours,
when the outer kitchen was reached at
last, Dove was grasping for breath, as
one-half drowned. Her hair was blown
down and twisted into the cloud, as
though mischievous hand had tied it
perversely into snarls. Her eyelids were
frozen, so that she had to wait until the
water thawed and rolled away like a
tear before she could bolt the door
again, and rid herself of the heavy
arctics.
After this came another season of
struggle, between three flights of stairs
and the weight of the bucket in unaccus-
toned arms.
eve done it," at last said Dove to her.
self, as she sat on the top stair, looking
lovingly at the well-fxed box be-
side her. Then she went back to her
invalid.
1t was an awful night; the blizzard in
creased in fury, and by o'clock in the
morning the bucket was again empty.
Exhausted by the nights watching,
Dove contemplated another visit to the
shed with horror; she feared that she
could never get through the twelve
hours accumulation of snow. What was
to be doneP Again she opened the pane
and looked into the street. If only the
milkman would appear! He was one of
the kindest men in the world and would
do anything to serve her. But it would
be hours before the milkman could break
the track and come in over the country
roads. Nor could Dove go into the
street: the snow had drifted half way up
the house door. 1t was regular block
ade. "May God give me strength"
prayed Dove. ferYently, as she took the
bucket in her hand and began to roll her.
self up in furs and wraps.
At that very moment, came a sound of
stamping outside. Then kind of earth
quake shook the house; this was caused
by the wrenching open of the outside
door, frozen in the intense cold. Then
the door bell rang.
Dove had flown down stairs at the first
sound, and now precipitated herself into
the arms of the rosy, fur-clothed monster
who stood shaking the dry snow pellets
from his clothes.
"Jack! oh, Jack! whatever made you
come so earlyP"
"Oh, I've been all night in the train;
it's struck fast mile or two away. We
were all so hungry that we ate up every
thing"
But how did you get hereP"
II chartered an old inhabitant to bring
me. l haven't been home yet. I've
been bothered all night thinking per-
haps madame and Martha would get
la Grippe, and you might be left without
coal in this blizzard"
This was the second time that Dove
had unconsciously brought this brother
to her aid at crisis. The first time he
broke his journey and travelled a hun
bred miles because he was awakened
during the night by her voice calling
him, his arrival home being as Opportune