T

HE kimona was finished without further mishap and packed away in the Christmas box.

"And no one was more surprised than I when the thing proved to be cut right," Doctor Hugh confided to Winnie. "I never looked at a pattern before, but I took a chance. I could see Rosemary was just on the edge of 'nerves' and I figured out that if I did make a mess of it, she might not find it out till the next day, and by that time she might be able to see the humor in the situation."

"You're a wise lad, Hughie, and I'm proud of you," said Winnie fondly. She had guessed something of the cost of the fur lined coat that the doctor had proudly displayed as his Christmas gift for the little mother, now well enough to take short tramps through the pine woods daily. Winnie did not know that a set of sorely needed medical books had gone into the coat, but she suspected something of the kind.The box was packed and sent and the Willis family settled down to the first Christmas they had known without the gentle spirit who had tirelessly planned for every holiday. But they had the dear knowledge that she was coming home again to them, well and strong, and they hung the wreaths in the windows and wound greens about the lights and trimmed a tree for Shirley with thankful and merry hearts. Doctor Hugh had missed so many home Christmas Days that he in particular, enjoyed the preparations and his attempts at secrets and his insistence on tasting all of Winnie's dishes drove the girls into fits of laughter. A pile of packages surrounded every place on Christmas morning and there was something pretty and practical and purely nonsensical for each one from the doctor. He, in turn, declared that for once in his life he had everything he wanted. Aunt Trudy's gift to her nephew and each of her nieces was a cheque and the announcements that followed were characteristic.

"What are you going to get, Hugh?" asked Sarah curiously, when the nature of her slip of paper had been explained to her.

"Books," said Doctor Hugh, promptly, smiling at his aunt."Music and a new music case, a leather one," declared Rosemary, her eyes shining.

"I'd like to buy a dog," said Sarah, and grinned good-naturedly at the groan which greeted her modest wish.

"You'd better buy an electric heater for the cats," suggested Winnie. "I'm forever taking 'em out of the oven; some day I'll forget to look, and there will be baked cats when you come down."

Shirley was distressed at this dismal prediction, but Sarah did not take it to heart.

"I think, after all," she said meditatively, "I'll buy a hen and keep chickens."

"What are you going to buy with your money, Shirley lamb?" asked Rosemary, as Sarah fell to planning a chicken yard.

"A doll I guess," said Shirley who had had three that morning.

When Sarah reminded her of that fact, Aunt Trudy protested.

"No one is to attempt to dictate in any way," she said with unaccustomed firmness. "When I was a child I was never allowed to spend a cent as I wanted to and I gave you each this money to do with exactly as you please. If you spend it foolishly, all right, I don't care. But I want each one of you to get what you want, whether or not it pleases some one else. I could have bought you what I thought you ought to have, but that's the kind of presents I had as a child and the only kind. And my goodness, didn't I hate 'em!"

The girls stared a little at this outburst and then the doctor laughed.

"Well all I can say," he remarked drolly as he pushed back his chair in answer to the summons of the telephone, "is that it is lucky Christmas comes only once a year. Otherwise, Aunt Trudy, you'd have us completely demoralized."

Spending their Christmas money gave the three girls a good deal of pleasure during holiday week and a letter from their mother was another pleasant incident. Mrs. Willis wrote that the fur coat and the kimona had made her the envy of the whole sanatorium and she was so proud of them both that she cried whenever she looked at them!

"—But, of course, I know you don't want me to do that, so I have stopped, really I have," ran one paragraph of her letter. "I am so proud of you all, my darlings and it seems such a short time ago that you were all babies. How could I look ahead and see that my son would grow up so soon and buy his mother a fur-lined coat, or that my three girl babies for whom I sewed so happily would make me a kimona and such a beautiful garment? I am wearing it now...."

The clear cold weather came to an end during holiday week and a heavy storm set in a few days before New Year's. For two days and a night it snowed steadily and Sarah was almost beside herself to think that now she could play in the snow as long as she liked with no school to interfere. Shirley suffered from cold and did not like to play out long at a time, but Rosemary was not too old to enjoy snow ball fights and coasting and she joined Sarah on the hill as often as she felt she could leave her beloved practising. Nina Edmonds did not care for coasting, but Fannie Mears and several of the girls in the grade above the seventh liked to coast on Fred Mears' bob-sled.

Late in the afternoon of the second day, when the snow had almost stopped, except for a few large flakes, Rosemary set out to find Sarah and bring her in in time for dinner. She was ploughing along through the snow when Jack Welles hailed her.

"'Lo, Rosemary!" he called. "Where you going—home?""I'm going to the hill to get Sarah," Rosemary explained. "Hugh says she'd coast till breakfast time if no one stopped her and I believe she would. Where's your sled? Haven't you been out to-day? They say the coasting is fine."

"I know it is, but I haven't had time to try it, worse luck!" growled Jack, falling into step beside Rosemary as they walked on. "The Common Council has sent out a call for the snow cleaning gangs again and I've been trying to round the fellows up."

"Yes, I suppose the streets are piled up," agreed Rosemary. "When are you expected to start work—not to-night?"

"To-morrow morning," the boy replied. "But there won't be more than six of us."

"Six!" repeated Rosemary in astonishment. "Why I thought there were twelve in each gang."

"There were," said Jack briefly. "But, you see, it is holiday week, and no one wants to work. The only five I can get are Norman Cox, Eustice Gray, Jerry and Fred Gordon and Ben Kelsey. I'm the sixth. Two of the others are away and the rest are going on a sleighing trip up to the woods."

"Where's Frank Fenton?" demanded Rosemary. "Can't he make 'em work?"

"Oh, he's going on the ride, too," explained Jack. "A bunch are going, girls and boys and three of the teachers will chaperone. They go up to a camp, you know, and build a big fire and dance and have a good time. Frank says it won't hurt to wait a day or two. I think he's hoping the snow will melt."

"What about the dramatic fund?" inquired, Rosemary, not intentionally sarcastic. "I thought they wanted the money."

"Too soon after Christmas," grinned Jack. "No, I guess the six of us will have to represent the school. Is that Sarah over there with the red hat?"

"Yes, it is," answered Rosemary, beckoning to her sister. "Didn't you want to go on the ride, Jack? Or the other boys?"

"Well I don't care so much," replied Jack slowly. "Of course I'd have a good time, but I can live without a sleigh ride. I'm sorry on the fellows' account though—they wanted to go with some girls and they don't have much fun. I hated like time to ask them to come and shovel snow to-morrow morning. As Eustice says most of the school fun costs too much for him, but this wasn't going to be expensive."

"Couldn't you wait just one day?" suggested Rosemary.Jack shook his head.

"It's understood that we stand ready to help the Council out," he said in a business-like manner. "They depend on us, and it isn't their fault the snow came during the holidays. We were glad enough to get the chance before and I think it looks mighty cheap to try to beg off now just because it isn't convenient to work. I'm going to be on deck to-morrow morning if I'm the only one who turns up."

Six boys, however, reported the next morning to Bill McCormack and at their own suggestion, were set to work clearing the Plummers Lane section of the accumulated snow.

"My father is always talking about the fire risk down here," said Jack to Jerry Gordon as they shoveled side by side. "Eastshore has a nifty little fire department I'm ready to admit, but it can't climb a snow bank even with the new chemical engine."

The boys found the day unexpectedly long. Hitherto they had worked three or four hours after school and the one Saturday they had shoveled had been at the end of their task so that they had been able to quit at noon. But, although they were genuinely tired long before night—and the noon rest had never been so appreciated!—not one of them suggested giving in or knocking off an hour or two earlier. They worked so steadily and to such good purpose that by half-past four, when Rosemary and Sarah appeared with hot coffee and sandwiches, the most congested area in Plummers Lane was comparatively clear.

"Gee, Rosemary, you certainly are all right!" approved Jack as he held the can for her while she ladled out coffee. "I never was so hungry in my life."

"They're chicken sandwiches and turkey, too," said Rosemary, smiling. "Winnie said if you couldn't go on the sleigh ride she'd see to it that you had something extra good to eat."

The hungry boys fell upon Winnie's sandwiches with a vigor that would have done her heart good, and the coffee disappeared magically. When the last drop was gone and the last crumb vanished, Jack insisted that the girls start for home.

"It's getting dark now," he said, "and Hugh won't like it if you are out late down here. I'd walk home with you, but we want to finish; we're not going to quit till we get to the end of the street. There's a fire hydrant there."Rosemary and Sarah, carrying the empty coffee can and the basket that had been packed with sandwiches, walked slowly toward home, Sarah audibly regretting that they had left the sled at the house.

"We could have a good coast, before dinner," she argued, walking backward, an accomplishment of which she was exceedingly proud.

Pride, as often happens, went before a fall, in this instance, a collision. Sarah, heedless of Rosemary's cry of warning, walked into a stout, silver-haired gentleman in a fur-collared coat.

"Bless my soul, what's this?" he asked in astonishment, looking down at the small girl who had bumped into his knees.

"How do you do Mr. Jordan?" said Rosemary respectfully, recognizing the president of the Common Council.

"Why it's Rosemary Willis!" beamed Mr. Jordan. "And Sarah, as I live. Where are you going my dears?"

"We're going home," explained Rosemary. "We took the boys some coffee and sandwiches. They are shoveling snow, you know."

"Oh, the high school lads, yes, I recollect," said Mr. Jordan. "I meant to go around and see them at work, but I've spent the afternoon in the library. Pretty faithful lads, aren't they, to stick to their job in holiday week?"

Rosemary held an instant's swift debate with herself. Jack, she knew, would hold his tongue. But Jack was not within hearing distance and his scruples did not honestly affect her. She put down the coffee can and began to speak. She told Mr. Jordan the whole story, from the beginning when the Student Council had objected to Jack's list of workers. She told about the streets assigned to the boys. She mentioned the sleigh ride and told who had gone. She named the six boys who had spent the day shoveling. The faster she talked, the prettier and more earnest she looked and the more interested Mr. Jordan seemed. Sarah listened dumbly, fascinated by her sister's eloquence.

Mr. Jordan walked with them to their front steps and shook hands with them both.

"I am extremely obliged to you," he told Rosemary as he lifted his hat to go. "I find that I have been a little out of things and you have set me right."

"Goodness knows what I've done," said Rosemary to Sarah as they brushed their hair and made ready for the table. "Don't you say a word to Jack—he will be furious. But I don't care what happens, I'm glad I said what I did; this 'silence is golden' is a silly saying, I think."

Late that night, when every one had gone to bed, the fire whistle sounded. Rosemary raised up in bed, shivering with excitement. She counted the strokes. One-two—one-two—one-two-three-four. Reaching for her dressing gown at the foot of the bed, she seized it and rushed for the door. Sarah's door opened at the same moment and the two little figures met in the hall. They shouted together, rousing the household.

"Plummers Lane!" they shrieked. "The fire's in Plummers Lane!"