“Oh!” exclaimed the two Whitneys.
“Well, we all went to bed early that night. Joel and David meant to get up as soon as it was light and go out and coast, they said. It was snowing beautifully when Mamsie looked out the last thing, and it was dreadfully deep, and Ben said he’d be sure to find time to give Phronsie a ride on the sled. And the first thing we knew it was morning, only we didn’t know it was morning,” said Polly, with a funny little laugh.
“What do you mean,—that you didn’t know it was morning?” asked Van.
“Oh! I mean—never mind, you’ll see when I get to it,” said Polly, who never liked to be pushed ahead of her story. “Well, the first thing I knew Mamsie was calling me, ‘Polly,’ in such a funny voice, that I hopped right up into the middle of the big bed.
“‘Get on your clothes as quickly as possible and come out here,’ said Mamsie. And I flew out of bed. Oh! how I wanted to just peep into the kitchen and see what was the matter, but I knew Mamsie wouldn’t like it; so I got dressed as fast as ever I could, and ran out. There was Mamsie in the middle of the floor. ‘Polly, child,’ she said, ‘we’re snowed in!’”
There was a breathless silence for a minute, that nobody seemed able to break. “Yes,” said Polly; “and don’t you think, there we were buried up in our Little Brown House.”
“O Polly!” cried Van in a horrified tone; “didn’t you ever get out?”
“Why, yes,” said Polly; “of course, or else we wouldn’t be here. Don’t feel so, Van,” as she saw his face; “it didn’t hurt us any, you know, because we all got out in good time. And we had some fun while being shut up in our little snow-house.”
“Is that what you mean by the little snow-house the story is about?” asked Percy, who was so bound up in the story he had lost sight of the opportunity to laugh at Van.