Each girl produced from her desk a large slate, and waited further orders. Then the teacher wrote in large letters on the blackboard these words:-- I LOVE TO HEAR THE ORGAN-GRINDER PLAY and ordered each girl to write that upon her slate over and over and over again for one hour. This seemed like a very easy punishment, and then began a vigorous scratching of pencils, with shy laughing glances between the culprits, while the teacher took a book and began to read, keeping, however, a sharp eye on the pupils to see that no one shirked her work. When one announced that her slate was full, she was told to sponge it off and begin again. Never was an hour so long! The lively scratching of pencils soon began to lag, and the teacher had to spur them on again, and now and then she walked down between the desks and looked at the slates to see that no one failed to obey orders. Many eager glances were turned upon the clock; recess-time came--and went; the boys were let out and their shouts and calls came in at the window, but the silence in the room of the girls was broken only by the scratching of slate-pencils and the sighs of weary girls,--for it had long ceased to be funny. When at last that tiresome old clock struck the hour, they were made to put away their slates and resume their lessons, and no recess at all did they have that morning. * * * * * "That was an awful funny prank," said Kristy; "and wasn't it a cute punishment!" she added, getting up to look out of the window again. "Rain! rain! rain!" she said, in a vexed tone, "nothing but rain to-day." "There are worse storms than rain, Kristy," said her mother. "I don't see what can be worse," said Kristy, returning to her seat. "What would you say to a blizzard?" asked mamma. "What's a blizzard?" said Kristy. "It's a kind of storm they have out on the western prairies; let me tell you about one." CHAPTER IV ALL NIGHT IN THE SCHOOLHOUSE It was very quiet one winter day in the little schoolhouse out on the prairie near the village of B----. The afternoon was wearing away, and thoughts of home and the warm supper awaiting them began to stir in the children's thoughts, and many glances were turned to the clock which was busily ticking the minutes away. Suddenly, without the least warning, a severe blast of wind struck the little schoolhouse and shook it to its foundations, while at the same moment a great darkness fell upon the world, as if the sun had been stricken out of the heavens. "A blizzard!" came trembling from the lips of the older scholars, who well knew the enemy which had suddenly descended upon them. Miss Grey, the teacher, left her seat and hurried to the window. Nothing was to be seen but snow. Not the soft, feathery flakes of eastern storms, but sharp ice-like particles that cut and stung when it beat against the flesh, like needles.