The evergreen thought for a moment and then, as the wind again shook its branches, sifting more snow down on poor Racky, the tree said:
"Just beyond this patch of woods, where I am rooted, is a little house."
"Oh, a little house!" murmured Racky. "That sounds comforting! And is there a fire in the little house?"
"There must be," answered the evergreen, "a warm, blazing fire. For a little old woman lives in the house and, each day, she comes here to the forest to gather up sticks for her fire. So it must be warm there."
"I wish I could go in the little house," sighed Racky.
"Why don't you?" asked the tree. "I am glad to have you here, under me, but I cannot help sifting snow on you when the wind blows. And it is too breezy for one who is catching cold. The little old woman is kind. I am sure she will let you come in her house."
"Then I am going there, thank you," said Racky, who was now shivering so that he almost shook Grandma's glasses out from between the cushions. "How can I find the little house?" he asked.
"Bock yourself straight through the woods until you come to a big rock," answered the tree. "Around the corner of that rock stands the house of the little old woman."
And so, with many thanks to the kind evergreen, Racky swayed out from beneath the sheltering branches into the storm again. The wind was blowing harder now, and the snow was swirling down more thickly. It was all the chair could do to slide along. But he held his wooden arms stiffly to his sides, and swayed forward until he came within sight of the big rock, and then he noticed the little house.
Just as Racky looked, he saw the little old woman, in the big fur coat, leading four children and a dog into her cottage. At the sight of them, the chair shrunk back behind the shelter of the great rock.