"
So the children began this great business of making a snow image that
should run about. Violet told Peony what to do, while with her own
careful fingers she shaped all the nicer parts of the snow figure. It
seemed, in fact, not so much to be made by the children as to grow up
under their hands as they were playing and talking about it. Their
mother, who was sitting at the window, watched them. The longer she
looked, the more and more surprised she grew.
"What remarkable children mine are!" she said to herself. "What other
children could have made anything so like a little girl's figure out
of snow at the first trial?"
"Peony, Peony!" cried Violet to her brother, "bring me some of that
fresh snow from the farthest corner where we have not been trampling.
I want to make our little snow sister's dress with it. You know it
must be white, just as it came out of the sky."
"Here it is, Violet!" Peony said as he came floundering through the
drifts. "Here is the snow for her dress. Oh, Violet, how beautiful she
begins to look!"
"Yes," Violet said thoughtfully and quietly, "our snow sister does
look very lovely. I did not know, Peony, that we could make such a
sweet little girl as this. Now bring me those light wreaths of snow
from the lower branches of the pear tree.
Pages:
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164