“WELL, we’re goin’ to have a change in the weather,” announced Grandpa, as he peered out the tiny sitting room window at the sky.
“What makes you think so?” asked the Turk, who was playing checkers with the Cook.
“That toe of mine is hurting,” answered the old man, “and that’s a sure sign there’s going to be a change,” and with this prophecy Grandpa shuffled upstairs to bed.
Grandpa was quite right about the change in the weather, for it grew cold in the night, and the Lady of Fashion, who had to get up about midnight to give several of the children their cough syrup, noticed that the snow was falling.
In the morning the ground was covered with almost an inch of soft white snow and the little people shivered as they slipped on their tiny clothes.
After breakfast, several of the Teenie Weenies went out to play in the snow, but most of the little people were contented to sit before the warm fire.
“This snow storm reminds me of an experience of mine in forty-nine,” said Grandpa, who pulled his chair so near the fire he almost scorched his shins. “I was cuttin’ up an old ruler for fire wood one afternoon, when—”
“HELP! HELP!” screamed a voice from the outside.
“What’s that?” cried the General, jumping to his feet.
Suddenly the front door burst open, and a frightened Teenie Weenie boy sprang into the room.