It was a perfect snowball day! There had been a heavy snowstorm, and then the sky had cleared and the weather turned soft and warm. What could be more delightful?
Rita was too little to go to school, but she was not too little to make snowballs.
So Mammy put on the little girl’s coat and hood, and leggings and overshoes and mittens, and turned her out of doors in the sunshine.
Oh, how bright it was! How the world sparkled and twinkled and laughed! Rita laughed, too, and at first could only jump up and down for pure joy, and sing,—
“Ho! ho! ho!
Pretty white snow!”
A song of her own composition, of which she was justly proud.
But presently she said to herself, “snowballs!” and from that moment she had no time for singing or jumping.
First she made some dumplings, and set them in a row on the piazza to bake in the sun; then she saw three little birds in a tree, and threw the dumplings at them, in case they might be hungry.
Then she made a pudding, and stirred it with a large icicle, which made the best possible pudding stick; then she made some eggs, and pelted Rover with them till that good dog fairly yelled with excitement.