Page:The mislaid uncle (IA mislaiduncle00raym).pdf/94

 "Yes, suh," responded Peter respectfully, since some reply seemed expected.

"Here, boy. Carry my mail to the library. Get a good heat on. Fetch that old soft shawl I put over my foot when it's bad, and, for goodness sake, keep that child out of the way and contented, somehow."

Josephine had gone to the window, pulled the draperies apart, and was looking out on a very different world from any she had ever seen. White was every object on which her eye rested, save the red fronts of the houses, and even these were festooned with snowy wreaths wherever such could find a resting place. The scene impressed and almost frightened her; but when, presently, it stopped snowing, and a boy ran out from a neighboring house, dragging a red sled through the drifts, her spirits rose. It had been one long, long week since she had exchanged a single word with any child, and this was an opportunity to be improved. She darted from the room, sped to the hall door, which stood ajar for Lafayette's