It was the middle of winter and Cloverfield Farm was deep under snow. The ponds were all frozen over and even the little brook had stopped babbling and was frozen into silvery ice.

Bobby liked the winter, because he could coast on the Little Hill and take rides in the big bob-sleigh.

There was no work to be done on the farm in winter; so Prince and Daisy stood all day in their stalls in the Old Red Barn.

"How would you like a long sleigh ride to-day, Bobby?" asked father one morning.

"I'm ready for one; that would be great fun. Where are you going?" answered Bobby.

"Well, harvest time has come," said father. "So Prince and Daisy and I are going to help harvest butter and ice cream."

"This is not harvest time," said Bobby; "harvest time is in the summer when it is very hot. And besides, Prince and Daisy cannot make butter and ice cream. Mother makes the butter, and John freezes the ice cream."

"Do you remember, Bobby, how they helped make bread?" asked father.

"Yes," said Bobby.

"If you will come with me, I will show you how they do truly help to make butter and ice cream too," said father.

"Shall I have to go far, father?"

"Yes, it is quite a long drive. Ask mother to bundle you up warm," said father.

Before long, father was at the door with the big bob-sleigh drawn by Prince and Daisy. He tucked Bobby in warm and snug with the buffalo robe, and then away they went. The bells on the horses jingled merrily as they went skimming along over the snow.

"Are we going to the city?" asked Bobby.

"No, Bobby, not this time. We are going to the river," said father.

"I never saw any ice cream in the river," said Bobby.

"Keep your eyes wide open, Bobby, and you will see Prince and Daisy help get ice cream from the river," said father.

When they came to the river, Bobby could see that it was all one mass of ice. Men working there had swept the snow off and were cutting the ice into great blocks.

"Oh!" said Bobby, "this is where we get the ice for John to put in the freezer."

Father drove close down to the edge of the river and the men filled the sleigh with a great load of the big blocks of ice.

"May I have a dish of the ice cream to-day?" asked Bobby.

"Not to-day," said father, "not until summer."

They were on the way home now, the horses going slowly with the heavy load.

"But it will not be summer for a long time," said Bobby. "By that time the snow and ice will all melt."

"This ice will not melt," said father, "even when spring comes and the snow goes off."

"That is strange," said Bobby. "Truly I am afraid it will melt and then we shall have no ice cream."

"Just watch," said father, "and see where I put it."

When they reached home father drove to the ice house.

"Look in there," he said to Bobby, "and tell me what you see."

"I see a great pile of sawdust," said Bobby. "You won't put the ice in there will you, father? I do not want sawdust in my ice cream."

"We will see that no sawdust gets into the ice cream," said father, "and yet we could not make the ice cream without it."

Father carried the big cakes of ice into the ice house and piled them in rows on a deep layer of sawdust. Then he went for another load and another and another. All that week he kept drawing ice until the ice house was nearly full. Over the top of the ice and around the sides of it he packed sawdust until it looked like a mountain.

"Are you trying to keep the ice warm?" asked Bobby.

"No, Bobby, I am covering it with the sawdust to keep it cool," said father.

"That is very strange," said Bobby. "Mother puts blankets on me to keep me warm. You put a blanket on the ice to keep it cool. I think there must be a mistake somewhere."

After a few months spring came and the snow melted and the ice on the river melted.

One day mother said, "If you will get me some ice we will have ice cream to-day. I am going to churn too and will need some for the butter."

"I am afraid the ice is all melted, mother," said Bobby.

"Come with me and we will see," said father.

So they went to the ice house. Father climbed on top of the mountain of sawdust. Bobby climbed after him.

Father dug some of the sawdust off, then said, "Now you may dig, Bobby."

Bobby began to scoop the sawdust off. Pretty soon his hand touched something cold. He dug some more and then came to a piece of shiny silvery ice.

Father lifted it out. There was a large cake of glittering ice just as they had put it in last winter.

"Now we'll wash the sawdust off," said father.

So they stopped at the well and washed it all clean, and then broke it into pieces. Part of it they took to mother to keep the butter cool; part of it to John to freeze the ice cream.

When the ice cream was frozen and Bobby was eating a dish of it, father said, "Well, Bobby, who made the ice cream to-day?"

"I see now," said Bobby. "We could not have had it on this hot day if Prince and Daisy had not drawn the heavy loads of ice last winter."

"And I could not have made such good butter without the ice," said mother.

"If horses liked ice cream," said Bobby, "I would give some of mine to Daisy and Prince."