"If only something would happen!" she said. Then, desperately, "I wish there would be a cyclone or a blizzard, or a prairie fire! I wish the Indians would make a raid!"
"We don't have cyclones and prairie fires in winter," her mother said, calmly.
Just then Lilian heard a great stamping of feet and gay voices outside on the kitchen threshold.
Her four brothers were coming in from doing their morning chores. As they entered they let in a great rush of cold air. Jack spied Lilian through the half-open sitting room door.
"Hello, Lil!" he called.
She did not answer.
"Lil in the dumps again?" he asked his mother.
"She is a little homesick this morning."
"Why doesn't she get out, as we do, and stir up her spirits?" said Harry. "It's nothing but moping makes her homesick."
"This is a thousand times better than poky old Deerfield," asserted Ben. "There was nothing to do there but slide down hill on a hand-sled, and here we have the ponies, and the cattle, and—"