Year: 1874

"When will you be home, father ?''
"lhe day after tomorrow. If start
Immediately, can be there by eight or
nine o'clock. The snow looks as though
1t might be deep. | shall put Bob and
Grey to the sleigh, and take Jack with
me'


lit will be so lonely. and, somehow,
wish you were not going"


The girl stopped and opened the stove
door. turtively wiping her eyes with her
apron.


$50 do l, Beckie, but must go. am
Huston's principal witness, and should
feel very sorry if, for want Of my testi-
mony, he lost his farm


81 know it is right, and should not
care so if Jack would be here, but


81 shall stop at neighbor Giles and get
Aunt Lizzie to come over she said she
would do so. Joe is to bring her, and stay
and milk and do the feeding while am
gone"


Beckie frightened up at this.


LET Jack get ready, while pat some
wood and coal in the shed to be handy,
then will take bite and be off,"


Mr.. Wilson was q New England man,
who, finding some difficulty in making
living out of his "stony potato patch." as
he called the few acres he owned in his
native state, had emigrated to the West
and settled on one of the rich prairies that
there abound. He had married thrifty.
active girl, the daughter of neighboring
farmer, and he now owned a large farm,
with comfortable house and out-houses
His dwelling was rather isolated, being
some distance from any travelled road.


His wife had died six months previous,
leaving him with five children. Jack, the
eldest, was turned of fourteen Beckie
was in her thirteenth year. James was
ten; Will, eight; and the baby, girl,
was seven months old.


Since their mothers death, Beckie had
tried to supply her place to the other chill
dren. She had taken all the care of the
baby. and was, as her father called her, a
"little mother" Mr.. Wilson had been
summoned to the county town, as witness
on trial involving the ownership Of a
friends farm, and although the weather
was stormy and cold, he felt that he must
go.


keep up the fires, Beckie," he said,
while eating his pie; 'there is wood and
coal enough in the she'd to last until get
back, and take good care of Jamie and the
baby"


Yes" she replied; adding, 'How it
does snow. and it has grown colder!"


When they had started, Beckie stood
until they drove out of the yard and the
curtain of fast-falling snow almost hid
them from her sight.


Il never did see it snow so," she said
to Jamie. II wish Joe would come,-he
is such good company"


A silent hour passed, interrupted only
by Wills laugh, as he lay on the floor
playing with baby. Beckie began to feel
uneasy, for the short winter day was draw
ing to close, and neither Aunt Lizzie nor
Joe had come.


"Ihave been watching the snow, Beckie.


l cannot see the garden fence. the flakes
fall SO thick. hope father and Jack will
be SAFE" said Jamie, as he stepped into
the sitting-room to get the broom. She
had gone into the shed for something, and
was surprised at the depth of the snow.
She went to the window and looked out.


There was not goose nor duck TO be
seen. The chickens had been driven from
under the lilac bushes, where they usually
took refuge in storm.


Again she wished Aunt Lizzie and Joe
would come. She began to feel a sort of
dread too. and was little frightened at the
aspect of things. Every moment the storm
increased in violence. Outside things were
buried in the snow ; a gloom was creeping
over the whole landscape. She could
scarcely distinguish objects she knew to be
only few yards distant.


She opened the door again. and went out
into the shed. AS she did so, she heard
the favorte cow, Crumpie, lowing, give a
long, low below.


"She is at the cow-house door and wants
to get in." she said to herself; II will milk
her, for Joe may not come, and baby must
have her supper


She took down an old coat of her faith
er's and buttoned herself in it, drew on
Jacks cow-hide boots, tied up her head
and ears in comforter, then, opening the
door into the sitting-room she told Jamie
to stay in there and look after Will and the
baby, took her milk pail and started. She
stopped, aghast, when she reached the
door of the shed, confounded at the depth
of the snow. She plunged into it, but
found she could not 60 on.


Beckie was girl of courage, besides
which she had a spirit of adventure. She
did not think there was any especial dam
ger. 1t was dreadful storm, there was
excitement in breasting it, and it would be
something to tell Of afterwards; besides.
she must have the milk for baby-that was
the paramount idea now. AS she recov-
cred from her plunge she thought of
kind Of snow-hoe her father had made,
and she stepped back into the shed, and.
with some difficulty, extricated it. ltwas
long stout stick. at the end of which was
fastened broad fiat piece of board, like a
hoe, only many times larger. Cutting a
piece off the clothes line that hung there.
She tied her milk pail by it around her
waist; then putting the handle of her
snow-hoe against her breast, holding it
with both hands, she pressed on, making
track for herself. AS she went by the
dog kennel the animal barked and jumped
towards her, and she stopped in the deep
snow and unclaimed him.


The gloom had so increased, she could
scarcely distinguish an object in the barn.
yard. Reaching the gate between the two