  At bedtime Peter said, "I want to sit up. I am going to watch the snow man." "Why?" asked mother. "I heard him speak," said Peter. "He said he would not chase me. He said I ought to see him at night. He can move then." "Very well," said mother. "But you might get into your bed. You can watch him from your window." "I did not think of that, mother. I will go now." Soon Peter was in bed. By sitting up, he could see the snow man. His window was wide open. But Peter had on thick night clothes. He did not feel the cold. The moon was bright. Peter thought of his friend, the Fairy Bird. He wished the Bird would come again and take him to the moon. All at once he rubbed his eyes. Where was the snow man? He looked again. The snow man was gone! "Oh, oh!" said Peter to himself. "I've lost him. That's too bad. Now I shall not see anything." But just then the door opened softly. Peter saw something white coming into his room. It was the snow man! Peter was so surprised that he nearly jumped out of bed. He was frightened, too. He called, "Oh, dear!" "Sh, sh, sh!" said the snow man. "You'll wake every one in the house. I came up here to please you. I don't care to see any one else. "It was hard work climbing the stairs. You children didn't make me very good legs; nor very good arms, either, I must say. I have no feet and no hands. "My hat came off when I broke myself away from the snow. But, without hands, I couldn't put it back on my head. "I do wish that you would make me better next time. You can, if you try. But I'm thankful you gave me eyes and a mouth, too. I like to see and I like to talk." "Don't you like to eat?" asked Peter. "What do you eat? Oh, dear! I'm afraid you eat little boys like me." The snow man began to shake. Bits of snow dropped on the floor. "Why, Peter, I believe you are afraid of me. You needn't be. You'll laugh, too, when I tell you what I do eat. Sticks and twigs and leaves that I pick up when you are rolling me. "Best of all I like mittens. I don't get very many. But I ate yours and Tim's this morning. They were good. I like red ones best. And I had only one red mitten." Then Peter did laugh. "What queer things to eat," he said. "And how funny you look when you laugh. You shake, but you do not laugh with your mouth." "Yes," said the snow man. "That's all because of Polly. You see, she made my mouth with a horrid straight stick. I can't bend it at all." "You make me very cold," said Peter. "You are so white. I want my mother to come and tuck me up." "I will try," the snow man said. And, with his snowy arms, he tried to pull up the bedclothes. One arm slipped and hit Peter's neck. Peter was so surprised that he screamed. In just a minute mother ran in. "What is it, dear?" she asked. Peter could only say, "The snow man, the snow man! He has been up here!" "He's out in the yard, dear. I can see him. And he has lost his hat. The wind must have blown it off. It has been raining hard. The rain has come in at the window. It is wet on the floor." "He didn't have his hat up here," said Peter. "He dropped it when he started. Mother only said, "I'll tuck you up again, Peter. We can see about it in the morning. Now good night." In the morning the rain had stopped. The children went to look at the snow man. He had grown much smaller in the night. There was a crack near the bottom of his legs. "He did walk, he did, I know he did!" cried Peter. "That's what made the crack. And, O Polly, look at this!" Sticking out of the snow man's stomach was the end of a red mitten! |
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