The boys’ determination to reach the low register of a bullfrog in that “bully for all” line was very, very funny, especially in Roger’s case, for his speaking voice was naturally a shrill treble. Their joy, however, awoke any sleepers there might have been in the house, and most of them came to their bedroom doors and peered out. “What’s the matter with you blamed little rascals?” Ned, in a purple bathrobe, demanded. “Wouldn’t you boys just as lief sing as to make that noise?” Nat, in a gray robe, and at his door, questioned. But he grinned at his small cousins, for it hadn’t been so long ago that he was just as much of a boy as they were. “Hello, kids!” cried Tavia, sticking out a tousled head from her room. “Tell us: What’s the good news?” Jennie Hapgood peered out for an instant, saw Ned and Nat, and darted back with an exclamatory “Oh!” “I—I thought something had happened,” she faintly said, closing her door all but a crack. “Something has,” declared Joe. “What is it, boys?” asked Dorothy, appearing fully dressed from her room. “The ice?” “What ice?” demanded Tavia. “Has the iceman come so early? Tell him to leave a big ten-cent piece.” “Huh!” grunted Roger, “there’s a whole lot more than a ten-cent piece outside, and you’d see it if you’d put up your shade. The whole world’s ice-covered.” “So it is,” Joe agreed. “There was rain last evening, you know,” Dorothy said, starting down the lower flight of stairs briskly. “And then it turned very cold. Everything is sheathed in ice out-of-doors. Doesn’t the warm air from the registers feel nice? I _do_ love dry heat, even if it is more expensive.” “Bully!” roared Nat, who had darted back to run up the shade at one of the windows in his room. “Look out, girls! it’s great.” Every twig on every bush and tree and every fence rail and post were covered with glistening ice. The sun, just rising red and rosy as though he had but now come from a vigorous morning bath, threw his rays in profusion over this fairy world and made a most spectacular scene for the young people to look out upon. In an hour all of them were out of doors to enjoy the spectacle in a “close up,” as Tavia called it. “And we all ought to have spectacles!” she exclaimed a little later. “This glare is blinding, and we’ll all have blinky, squinty eyes by night.” “Automobile goggles—for all hands!” exclaimed Nat. “They’re all smoked glasses, too. I’ll get ’em,” and he started for the garage. “But no automobile to-day,” laughed Jennie. “Think of the skidding on this sheet of ice.” For the ground was sheathed by Jack Frost, as well as the trees and bushes and fences. Joe and Roger, well wrapped up, were just starting from the back door and Dorothy hailed them: “Where away, my hearties? Ahoy!” “Aw—we’re just going sliding,” said Roger, stuttering. “Where?” demanded the determined older sister.