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Reeve, Arthur B. (Arthur Benjamin), 1880-1936

"The Children's Book of Christmas Stories"

But snow deep enough to bury
them must cover up all landmarks, and she knew her husband would not
rest till he had found them. To get lost on the trackless prairie was
fearfully easy, and to suffer and die almost in sight of home was no
unusual thing, and was her one dread in living there.
A few moments she lay quiet in bed, to calm herself and get control of
her own anxieties before she spoke to the children.
"Willie," she said at last, "are you awake?"
"Yes, mamma," said Willie; "I've been awake ever so long; isn't it most
morning?"
"Willie," said the mother quietly, "we mustn't be frightened, but I
think--I'm afraid--we are snowed in."
Willie bounded to his feet and ran to the door. "Don't open it!" said
mamma hastily; "the snow may fall in. Light a candle and look out the
window."
In a moment the flickering rays of the candle fell upon the window.
Willie drew back the curtain. Snow was tightly banked up against it to
the top.
"Why, mamma," he exclaimed, "so we are! and how can papa find us? and
what shall we do?"
"We must do the best we can," said mamma, in a voice which she tried to
make steady, "and trust that it isn't very deep, and that Tim and papa
will find us, and dig us out."
By this time the little girls were awake and inclined to be very much
frightened, but mamma was calm now, and Willie was brave and hopeful.


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