“‘Silver threads among the gold’,” quoted Cologne. “I know. She’s getting rheumatic, too. Second childhood is close upon her——”
“Stop ranting and come on!” commanded Ned Ebony. “High overshoes—mittens—everything! the snow is just soft enough. If we’re careful we’ll make Olaine’s eyes bulge out in the morning. She never saw an old-fashioned Glenwood ‘white giant.’”
“‘The little dimpled darling has never seen Christmas yet,’” quoted Tavia in a high, mincing tone. “Where’s my rub-a-dub-dubs, Dorothy Dale? Did you eat ’em, I want to know?”
But when the chums were dressed, and the other girls of the upper class filed into the corridor, dressed for the frolic, there was little noise. This was an escapade that was not indulged in every winter by the Glenwood girls, for not often was the snow in the state it was at present.
There was plenty of it; it was soft and “packy,” and there was starlight enough to aid them in their work, although there was no moon.
The pedestal of the statue they proposed erecting was made of several huge balls rolled on the campus and then set upright in a circle, in the middle of the lawn, facing the teachers’ windows.
Other smaller balls were rolled swiftly and, as they had to be brought from a greater distance as the figure progressed, they were rolled upon sleds and dragged to the scene of operations. With pieces of board and a couple of shovels Tavia, Dorothy and Cologne shaped the round body of the giant as it grew in bulk and height.
“We’ll make the biggest and the tallest giant Glenwood ever saw,” declared Tavia. “Come on with that ball, Neddie. Hoist it up here!”
When one of the snowballs, raised in the arms of four girls to be adjusted upon the figure, chanced to burst like a bomb, there was much smothered hilarity—from those who were not engulfed in the mishap.
“Oh! oh! oh!” cried Nita. “I feel as if I’d been caught in an avalanche in the Alps! Goodness me! how wet that snow is!”