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50 to fume and bubble with excitement. A warm, sultry smell was diffused throughout the room. A thermometer on the wall farthest from the stove stood at eighty degrees. The parlor was hung with red curtains, and covered with a red carpet, and looked just as warm as it felt. The difference betwixt the atmosphere here and the cold, wintry twilight out of doors, was like stepping at once from Nova Zembla to the hottest part of India, or from the North Pole into an oven. Oh, this was a fine place for the little white stranger !

The common-sensible man placed the snow-child on the hearth-rug, right in front of the hissing and fuming stove.

&ldquo;Now she will be comfortable!&rdquo; cried Mr. Lindsey, rubbing his hands and looking about him, with the pleasantest smile you ever saw. &ldquo;Make yourself at home, my child.&rdquo; Sad, sad and drooping, looked the little white maiden, as she stood on the hearth-rug, with the hot blast of the stove striking through her like a pestilence. Once, she threw a glance wistfully toward the windows, and caught a glimpse, through its red curtains, of the snow-covered roofs, and the stars glimmering frostily, and all the delicious intensity of the cold night. The bleak wind rattled the window-pane, as if it were summoning her to come forth. But there stood the snow-child, drooping, before the hot stove! But the common-sensible man saw nothing amiss.

&ldquo;Come wife,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;let her have a pair of thick stocking&rsquo;s and a, woollen shawl or blanket directly; and tell Dora to give her some warm supper as soon as the milk boils. You, Violet and Peony, amuse your little friend. She is out of spirits, you see, at finding herself in a strange place. For my part, I will