"'There is no sort of use in my trying to get out, even to the barn,' she reflected. 'I should be smothered in the snow. So the cattle and the chickens must take their chance. I am glad I pulled down plenty of hay for them last night. But now about myself. I suppose it may be two or three days before any one can get up here, and I had better look round and see what I have to live upon. Oh, if Miss Gibson had only come up as she promised! But after all, it would be only one more in trouble. The first thing to do is to bring in plenty of wood. No, that is not the first thing, either.'"
"Fanny knelt down and said her prayers. Then she quickly dressed herself, and, going out into the shed, she soon brought in plenty of wood, enough to last the whole day through, and piled it up in one corner out of the way. As she went out the third time, she heard a cracking sound in the roof of the shed; and looking up, she saw that some of the boards were bent down so that the snow came in between them."
"'If the shed should fall in, I would be rather badly off,' said she. 'I think I had better bring in all the wood I am likely to want.'"
"This was very sensible in Fanny. Fuel is generally the first thing to be looked to in such cases. She brought in nearly all the cut wood in the shed, and a great store of pine-knots. Then she began to look into the state of her provisions. No fear there. She had enough of flour, meal, and butter to last six weeks, besides the barrels of beef and pork in the cellar, and the chickens and turkey which had been got ready for the Thanksgiving dinner. As she looked at them she realized for the first time that this was Thanksgiving day—the day on which all New England bred or descended folks gather together as many of their families as are within reach, that they may rejoice together before the Lord, they, their sons and daughters, in all the good which the Lord has done unto them. Thanksgiving day!—And here she was alone and buried in the snow, while her father and mother were she did not know where."
Christmas at Cedar Hill.
"But I am not going to cry."
"'But I am not going to cry,' said Fanny aloud, resolutely brushing the tears from her eyes. 'If I once begin, I shall never know when to stop. I shall make my head ache, and then I shall be good for nothing.'"
"Determinedly she wiped her eyes and choked down her sobs. She looked into the candle box. It was half full of nice mould candles, and there was, besides, a jug of oil."
"'Well,' said Fanny, as she concluded her survey, 'I don't see that I need be extra careful of anything but wood, and I don't think I shall get out of that very soon. If father and mother are alive, they will be coming to look for me before long. Then they must know down at Mr. Morrell's that I am here alone, because father told Miss Gibson, and I should think they would see that I don't suffer. At any rate there is One who knows all about it, and while He cares for me, no real harm can come to me. Oh, I never knew before how good it was to trust in Him!'"