Just as Bert had thought, letting Flossie and Freddie play out of doors made the small twins sleepy, and they were ready for bed much earlier than usual that evening.
Bert and Nan were also tired, so about ten o’clock the Bobbsey house was quiet and dark, every one being in bed. The last thing Bert remembered hearing was the howl of the wind outside and the tinkle of snowflakes against the windows.
“It’s storming hard again,” he said to himself.
And the first thing he heard, when he awakened in the dim, gray light of morning, was still the noise of the storm.
“It kept up all night,” thought Bert. “My, but the snow will be deep! And how that wind blows! It shakes the house!”
He was aware of a furious blast howling outside. And really, at times, the house trembled.
“Oh, Bert!” called Nan from her room. “Are you awake?”
“Yes, I’m going to get right up.”
“Oh, it’s a terrible storm, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I guess it’s pretty bad,” admitted her brother. “But we’ll be all right.”