"STUMBLING OVER THEIR OWN FEET AND BUNDLES ... THE CREW POURED INTO THE WARM KITCHEN"
"Here, Carol, give me your hand. I'll plough you through. Large bodies move slowly, of course, but go elbows first and you'll get there."
"Gee whiz! Can't you get that door open? I'll bet it's frozen fast."
A light showed inside the kitchen. The storm-door swung open, propelled by force from inside. A cautious voice said low: "That the Fernald family?"
A chorus of whispers came back at Miss Marietta Cooley:
"Yes, yes—let us in, we're freezing."
"You bet we're the Fernald family—every man-Jack of us—not one missing."
"Oh, Marietta—you dear old thing!"
"Hurry up—this is their side of the house."