The storm was evidently almost over, but the sky was gray and overcast.
They closed the door, went down, and soon had a fire, hoping that the
smoke would guide somebody to them.
Breakfast was taken by candle-light, dinner--in time--in the same way,
and supper passed with no sound from the outside world.
Many times Willie and mamma went to the scuttle door to see if any one
was in sight, but not a shadow broke the broad expanse of white over
which toward night the sun shone. Of course there were no signs of the
roads, for through so deep snow none could be broken, and until the sun
and frost should form a crust on top there was little hope of their
being reached.
The second morning broke, and Willie hurried up to his post of lookout
the first thing. No person was in sight, but he found a light crust on
the snow, and the first thing he noticed was a few half-starved birds
trying in vain to pick up something to eat. They looked weak and almost
exhausted, and a thought struck Willie.
It was hard to keep up the courage of the little household. Nora had
openly lamented that to-night was Christmas Eve, and no Christmas
dinner to be had. Tot had grown very tearful about her "waisins," and
Mrs. Barnes, though she tried to keep up heart, had become very pale
and silent.
Willie, though he felt unbounded faith in papa, and especially in Tim,
found it hard to suppress his own complaints when he remembered that
Christmas would probably be passed in the same dismal way, with fears
for papa added to their own misery.
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