Just after New-Year came a very heavy snowstorm. It lasted two days, and when the boys went to school on the third morning, they had to wade through drifts in some places as high as their shoulders. Even on a level the snow was up to the knees of the smaller boys.
It was a huge frolic to most of them, and the best part of it was when they found that, owing to some trouble with the furnace, there would be no school in the boys’ department that day.
“Hurrah for a holiday!” shouted half a dozen voices, as the boys tumbled pellmell down the stairs, not considering it necessary, under the circumstances, to keep in line as usual.
“Won’t the girls envy us, though,” chuckled Dixon, lifting his cap with great politeness as he saw two or three girls looking out of one of their windows. “I’ve half a mind to go and smash their furnace, so they can get out too.”
“I would,” said Hamlin, dryly. He had long since arrived at the conclusion that “Rosy” had “plenty of good points,” but even yet Dixon’s frequent references to “the girls” were apt to vex him, and he had never been willing to introduce his red-haired schoolmate to his cousin Grace or any other of his girl friends.
“Say, fellows, why can’t we build a fort and have a snowball fight instead of going home,” cried Reed. “The snow’s in prime condition. Just see what balls it makes,” he added, catching up a handful of snow and hastily fashioning it into a ball which he flung at Hamlin, who dodged just in time to avoid it, and it landed full in Dixon’s mouth, as he opened it to speak. He spluttered and gasped for a moment, but as soon as he could get his breath, he dashed at Reed and rolled him in the snow, rubbing a handful of it into his mouth.
“Ouch! ouch!” yelled Reed; “help, help, boys!” whereupon two or three ran to his rescue, and the next moment, Dixon was treated to a dose of his own medicine. He took it very good-naturedly; he always did take everything good-naturedly. Even the boys that disliked him could not deny that.
“Say we do have a snowball fight. We may not have another chance this year,” said Sherman.
“Professor would order us off. The girls couldn’t recite if we were yelling outside here,” suggested Graham.
“That’s a fact! I forgot about the girls,” murmured Rosy, at which somebody remarked:—