Willmar tribune., 1899-12-27

Unsuitable monster. Yet we couldn't
make up our minds to close it up and
put up a stove instead, because of it's
radiant cheerfulness. How jolly it was.
just when the first touch of a winters
twilight stole on, to pile fresh hickory
logs On the old andirons and watch the
flames dash up the chimney's throat
and light the whole room with mellow
crimson fame.
But the wood! Of course, we three
women couldn't very we'll go out and
chop and haul it, and our funds did
not always warrant hiring large quanti-
ties laid in, besides which the neigh
boring help we could get was not very
dependable on at all times.
Maple Knoll was lovely place, but
didn't bring in much revenue, worked.
as we were obliged to have it done, by
any Tom, Dick or Harry we could pick
up; and the old house was picturesque
but leaky as sieve. Still, we man.
aged very well about everything else,
but for fuel we were obliged to depend
on getting load hauled now and then
when some neighbor had the time and
inclination to undertake it.
December though it was, we had had
a streak of regular Indian-summery
weather-a mild atmosphere inter-
woven with soft smokiness. Our stove
wood had run out, and the neighbors
had all been too busy hauling cordwood
to attend to our needs. Our chip yard
we had been levying on it for cooking
purposes, using what little wood we
had for the fireplace, as we didn't need
much, and had gone jogging along in
an easy, grasshoppery way, as if the
pleasant weather were going to last all
winter.
We woke up the morning of December
30 to find the world nearly lost in a
most beautiful blizzard of whirling
snow. Not only was the outward world
a white desolation, but there were lit
tie drifts all over the inside of the
house.
''Dora," I shouted, bouncing out of
bed and landing with one foot in a
snow bank, chow many chips did we
Drlng IN last nlght?
"About enough to cook breakfast
with," Dora answered, with the calm
ness of despair, as she shook little puff
of snow out of her shoe. I hoped out
Of my drift and rushed to the window.
meantime, let's 60 down and make
fire and get a good warm-up if we
do perish afterward.''
'We'd better save the sitting-room
wood until after breakfast" counseled
Dora, ''and just have fire in the cook
stove till then, and eat in the Kitchen
"Sure," said I, "thatll be lark"
In spite of the dismal outlook we had
cheerful fire and cozy kitchen when
Aunt Laura came down, and then while
she began to prepare breakfast Dora
and did ourselves up like Laplanders
and plunged out into the, blizzard to
feed and milk the cows, after which we
braved the winters blast long enough
to transport my treasure stump to the
house, which we did partly by Juggling
and partly by rolling it over and over.
Breakfast was ready when we got it
safely under, cover, and notwithstand-
ing our impending doom, we fell upon
the ham and fried potatoes and pan.
+ cakes, and enjoyed our meal immensely.
Girls, !" said auntie, when the last
potato and the last crimpy brown bat
ter-cake had vanished, 81 don't want
+ to dampen your spirits, but there isn't
4 q chip left, and how we're going to
cook dinner I don't see.'
Nett, said Dora (who was Just three
months older than II, well cook
dinner by the fireplace
s Dora" T said, you're gifted. That's
what we will, and imagine we're ou1